I need to learn that another woman’s beauty doesn’t take away from my own. And her success does not limit mine. I cannot love the queen in myself but loathe the queen in my sister. I struggle with feeling envious and jealous, especially when it comes to looks, and it’s completely contrary to my otherwise celebration of women and womanhood. I need to understand, not just intellectually, but in practice, that another woman’s queendom will not cause mine to crumble. It will strengthen it. Another woman’s beauty should not turn me green, but instead humble me and allow me to admire.
I’m reminded of a chapter on beauty and internal light from the book A Woman’s Worth. Marianne Williamson says feminine beauty is not a function of clothes or hair or makeup. Beauty is an internal light, a spiritual radiance that all women have but most women hide, unconsciously denying its existence. The woman who is truly self-aware knows that her self is a light from beyond this world that has nothing to do with the physical world.
I need to learn to embrace the light that shines from other women and not feel intimidated if they shine brighter than me. They are older, more experienced, their light shines that bright for a reason. Their light is a combination of other lights, from other women. They love and admire and grow with other women, they aren’t nasty or envious. Until I can learn to absorb and appreciate the internal light and beauty that other women have, my light will be dim.
hi followers who stayed with me throughout the duration of my inactivity. i was pregnant and gave birth two weeks ago and now i’m back or perhaps not but i’m here now. that’s my husband and our daughter “Naeema” pardon her; she’s looking a little gross only a few hours old. my name’s fatimah, for those that didn’t know. hi, again.
The World Economic Forum 2009 Global Gender Gap Report ranked Saudi Arabia 131st out of 134 countries for gender parity. (The US ranked 22nd.)
All Saudi women are “guarded” (owned) by a male (father, brother, or husband). Not surprisingly, most domestic abuse is not reported.
So, depending on where it’s running, this ad for the King Khalid Foundation is important news. Because female abuse is “a phenomenon found in the dark,” as the Foundation says on their No More Abuse page.
how the hell do you expect to feel fresh/revitalised and attain healthy luminous skin when all you eat is sausage rolls and icecream for breakfast and sugar all day and your idea of exercise is moving from the bedroom to the kitchen and the odd stroll through the mall.
girl is so good at loving everybody (but herself). girl is so good at hating no one (but herself). of course you want to be loved. everyone does. but if your body is a home that even you refuse to live in, why would anyone else ask to move in? (just temporary tenants where your thighs touch under your summer dress) sweetheart, whatever you are running away from, we can all smell.
I think it’s great for two people to be together. That is a good number. I think, that to keep it alive though, you can’t spend every day together. It wears out the magic, Love means nothing to me if it’s not fortified with fierce, painful longing, brief explosive instances of furious passion and intimacy and then a sad parting for a time. In that way, you can give your life to it and still have a life of your own. I think some couples spend too much time together. They flatten out the potential for experience by constant closeness. Passion builds over time like steam. Let it rage until it’s exhausted and then leave it alone to let it build up again. Why can’t love be insane and distorted? How can it be vital if it has the same threshold as normal day-to-day experience? Why can’t you write burning letters and let your nocturnal self smolder with desire for one who is not there? Why not let the days before you see her be excruciating and ferment in your mind so on the day you go to the airport to pick her up, you’re nearly sick with anticipation? And then when desire shows the first sign of contentment, throw it back in its cage and let it slowly build itself back into a state of starved fury. Then when you are together, it all matters. So that when you look into her eyes, you lose your balance, so that when she touches you, it feels like you have never been touched before. When she says your name, you think it was she who named you. When she has gone, you bury your face in the pillow to smell her hair and you lie awake at night remembering your face in her neck, her breathing and the amazing smell of her skin. Your eyes go wet because you want her so bad and miss her so much. Now that is worth the miles and the time. That matches the inferno of life. Otherwise you poison each other with your presence day after day as you drag each other through the inevitable mundane aspects of your lives. That is the slow death that I see slapped on faces everywhere I go. It’s part of the world’s sadness that’s more empty than cold, poorly lit rooms in cities of the American night.
