Shame game

From all of the feminist movement novels I’ve been digging my nose in, you’d think I’d feel more resilient to shame.

But I’m not.

I mean…the feelings have decreased. For example if I were to be confronted by my past, I wouldn’t feel shame because I’m happy with who I am. My past made me who I am today. It molded me into a beautiful woman. Inside and out.

But there are many cultural aspects that are hard to defy.

It’s so easy for everyone to say: “well, stop caring what people think.”

It’s easier said than done. Like most immigrants from the Middle East or south east Asia, I’ve been raised to consciously reiterate my mother’s favorite line: “what will the people think.”

Maybe the people will give a fuck for 5 minutes, maybe even 30. Maybe my seemingly treacherous ways will be discussed over wine and chocolates.

I get it. In the big scheme of things, it’s all about me.

Shame is powerful. As a middle eastern woman, it feels even more powerful. Simply being a woman… it feels more powerful. * cough cough * double standards much?


But I have to let go. I have to just accept that this is how it is.

How? With time.

All I have left to say is “dammit.”

Eventually, time heals all burdens. In the mean time if this is my biggest problem…. so be it.

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