Cliche and Cheesy

Mr RedBerries and I are going to get married inshaAllah. We're going to be happy together inshaAllah. Forever inshaAllah.

Some people have stumbled accross this blog. They use it to hurt me.


I love blogging. I love this blog. I can't replace it.

But I love myself more, and I can't set myself up to be hurt anymore.

This is the last post.

There's so many more things I wanted to rant about, and talk about. I was looking forward to just throwing my messy engagement/wedding plans out there and letting you guys watch as I got myself into a pickle. I wanted to use this as a place of positive change. For those sisters (and brothers) who might need a bit of a chuckle and a laugh.

Such a nuisance to have to give this up. It feels like defeat. I'm not going to start a new blog. I don't think I could risk it again if something happened. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

To those girls who know who I am, who disregarded my feelings and my emotions, who considered my right to privacy less important than their right to talk about me - I am closing this blog due to you.

For the girl who liked Mr RedBerries (and started this mess), I found out who you are. I know what you said about me. It hurt. Your anonymity can't protect you from Allah SWT. In this life, I forgive you. Mr RedBerries told me to forgive you. Forgive and forget.

To my readers, I shall miss you. Honestly. I wish it could have ended in a better way. Khair. It is, what it is.

Salaam alaikum
xx

Talkers

Some people like to talk.

Some people talk about me.

Some people think it's alright to talk about me.

Sometimes I cry.


I want to ignore them. And forget about them.

I sound like a hormonal teenager. I don't mean to.

InshaAllah I can be strong.

InshaAllah these girls will gain maturity and knowledge from Allah SWT.

InshaAllah everything that's happened will make me stronger and wiser.


They are young girls. I feel like as I'm older, I should forgive and forget. Another part of me thinks I should just cut them out of my life, because they were only acquaintances. Except for one girl, she was my friend, and her words hurt the most.

I just want to end on a simple reminder, to myself first and foremost: there's no need to hurt someone else if you have been hurt. There's no need to talk about someone else  if you have been hurt. If you are upset, then the first feeling/emotion should be sabr. People often make mistakes when they are upset, because they forget to have sabr. Always have sabr. Always keep strong.

Salaam :)

Jealous-y

Alhamdulillah. Things are going well. Things are going smoothly. I can't complain.

Mr RedBerries and I are well. Alhamdulillah. Parents are meeting, sorting out engagement parties (yeuch), Nikkah ceremonies, and massive celebrations where they can invite any other asian person they ever lay eyes on.

*shrugs* Can't say I'm a massive fan of some of the ideas that have been floating about, but khair, you only get to do it once, so might as well let the parents do as they like.

Mr RedBerries spends a lot of time with his friends. All his time with his friends.

Don't get me wrong, I am in NO way suggesting that he should spend that time with me. I already think we spend a tad too much time together. I guess that's another conundrum...how much time is too much time?

We try and see each other once a week, but sometimes we can't, just because major timetable clashes. That's cool, I don't cry myself to sleep about it. Even if we do see each other, it's usually for only two or three hours. Man. That sounds like a pretty long period of time when you calculate it out. But it's mainly doing nothing. We're not dating.

We're not going to the cinema, we're not going out for coffee, we're not doing anything remotely exciting. Just hanging out, doing nothing, usually down the park. Because that's the only public place where we can hang out doing nothing. Talking about everything and anything. Sometimes, not often, not saying anything at all.

Part of me thinks that it's cool and it's okay. Another part of me feels a bit ... uneasy. Like a tiny piece of me. We're not technically doing anything wrong. But maybe I'm giving too much of myself away too quickly? A girl should be protecting herself and her modesty. Not that I'm immodest (as far as I'm aware), it's just that...you know...by letting a guy get to know you, then you are letting him into an inner circle that normally he wouldn't be allowed to get to know.

Mr RedBerries is very open and honest. Sometimes a tad too open and honest, and I have to stop him talking. Bless his socks, he's always very apologetic. Sometimes I don't think he realises what he's saying. But it's hard. When you know those feelings are there, but you can't say or do anything. I never wanted to be one of those girls who gets engaged and then spends all her time speaking to her fiance. That would be my ultimate lame.

Because even though we have made the intention to make that commitment, we haven't actually made the commitment. Islamically (and this is my basic knowledge), there isn't really such a thing as an engagement. So we're still strangers. I know in Arab culture, they have an Okud, which is the Nikkah ceremony, done as soon as possible. This is classed as the 'engagement'. My parents are not so keen on this. To be honest, neither am I.

Oh my. I've written about something completely off tangent from my original though. Nay mind :)

Salaam

Being a RedBerry.

Being a RedBerry is hard stuff.  You gotta be awesome all the time. :P

In all seriousness, I've been struggling to think about what to write about. Honest. Because all this stuff has been happening, and it's all been weird. But I don't know if I should share it. Coz it's perfect and private and personal. But at the same time, this is anonymous and even if you guys know who I am, it's not that private that I'd be embarassed if you knew.

I'm struggling a little with this blog. Mainly because I began writing as a way to release all me pent up emotions regarding marriage (mainly) and life. I think my friends had grown tired of my incessant talking, and I needed to share with a wider range of opinions, which Alhamdulillah I think I've reached. Strangely enough, as soon as I began this blog...things started falling into place in the strangest of ways. I'm at a bit of a loss as to how/why this happened. But there we are, He is the Best of Planners.

So. Where to go from here? I'm scared that if I carry on writing, it'll just be a narrative of why Mr RedBerries is so awesome. Why I think he is awesome. Why we are awesome together. Why he is the cutest, sweetest, bestest, awesomest person I've ever had the blessing to have in my life. You see, I'm doing it already. I'm sure other people might find me a bit nauseating.

I want to carry on. I like this blog. But as one blogger once wrote, and I paraphrase here; we can't just write for the sake of writing. Because there are some things which are meant to be personal, and if you share them it has to be with good reason. If I write something, I want those reading to gain some sort of benefit out of it, even if it's the simple act of laughter. I physically can't write about the mundane acts of my day and expect people to waste their precious time reading it.

I know blogging isn't for everyone else, it's for the writer. Readers flock to a good writer. I'm not really knowledgeable enough to turn it into a blog about Islam. Seriously man, I'm leaving that to the professionals. I'm just a tad confused.

Khair.

There's a contentment in finding your soulmate. A simple tranquility. The heart seems rested, the soul seems complete. Every little action suddenly has more meaning.

Mr RedBerries and I have been at such peace recently. I know now. I know. After everything that has been said...there's still so much more. The point is, I want to hear it. I want to talk. I want our conversations to go on forever.

As suddenly as all this madness had started, it finished. Now...I'm wondering what all the fuss was about. It's like we both fell, and then we had to stand back up again...except...we realised it would be easier for us to help each other. I'm telling you, I didn't think I would ever be able to let someone into my life. I never thought or imagined or envisaged that I would want someone around me all the time. That every last intricacy of my day, I would want to share with them. Hell, I still can't comprehend that he wants to know.

I sometimes feel like this is a bit too good to be true. To use a cliche. Too amazing to ever happen to me. Little ol' me.

Everything that's happened to me in my life...it's like I was being prepared to meet this guy.

subhanAllah. He is the Best of Planners. above and beyond human comprehension.

Running Around Naked In The Street

Facebook. The start and end of so many of life's problems.

I was just on Facebook.

The problem begins.


There's girls and guys who are my Facebook friends. People I went to school with, or whatever...aquaintances I guess would be the correct term for them. Alright for a quick 'hello', but not people I would hang out with regularly or maintain contact with should Facebook ever be shut down. I don't think they mind that I don't have deepening feelings of affection for them. It's just an shallow friendship, full of a whole load of nothing.

Many of these people are non-Muslims, and so there are a lot of photographs involving drinking/drunk people usually out a drinking establishment such as a pub or a club. I hate the way the girls are always wearing next to nothing. It's disgusting. (Just for clarification, I don't go flicking through all these pictures of haram, I'm simply commenting on the ones that pop up on my news feed.)

I don't expect a non-Muslim woman to dress the way Islam asks us to. To be completely honest, I don't even expect Muslim women to dress that way either. There's a lot of crazy fatwas in the world they say it's okay not to wear the hijab and whatnot...and I'm not Alimah in these matters...but I disagree. Nevertheless, some choose to follow these, or are scared, or any other reason, and don't wear the hijab. And that's okay.

I diverge from my point.

Why do women feel they have to take off all their clothes? Is there an incessant need to have your entire body on display? To have your breasts bursting out of your top? Do men find this attractive? I find it vulgar. Really vulgar. I don't know if I'm getting old or what, I don't think stuff like this used to bother me before, but recently, it seems that everywhere you turn, some women is half naked. Whether she's walking down the street in front of you, or plastered on a billboard, on a bus, on the television, in a magazine....the list is endless.

Like I said, I don't expect every woman (be they Muslim or non-Muslim) to wear a jilbab and veil and gloves and everything else. That's a personal decision and takes a lot of courage. But, that doesn't mean one HAS to dress like a whore. I'm actually offended by some of the girls that post their pictures up on Facebook. They are intellectual women, clever women, gifted women....these are individuals who are amazing. Yet, they succumb to society's desire to devour them through sight. It's like a visual rape, it really is.

It sends shivers down my spine even thinking about it. I don't understand why you would want a whole bunch of drunk strangers to see your body like that.

I'll be completely honest. When I'm in a hijab-free party (i.e. woman only) and woman walk in wearing clothes that are tight and/or revealing...I feel really uncomfortable. What happened to modesty? It's not just an attribute we turn on when we feel like it. Not a quality that is only applicable when outside the house. It should be present in all our doings, all the time. Modesty in dress is not something that the Prophet (SAW) only used to do in public. He never used to run around covered in gold and silk while in the comfort of his own home...so why do we feel the need to have different personalities and different clothes when we are around only women?

Some of the women that see you in those inappropriate clothes...they maybe seeing you for the first time. They may never see you again. Is that how you would like them to remember you? Wearing tight jeans and top which accentuates your chest? It's like my ultimate nightmare. Does Allah (SWT) not see you? Just because we have less to cover in front of other women, does not mean that we should only cover the bare minimum.

As Muslims, we should be nothing to the bare minimum. I'm not saying that we should wear the hijab 24/7, don't get me wrong. There needs to be more modesty in the world. Modesty in dress and attitude. We're missing this from Western culture...it's all about opening our eyes, and seeing what's really there.

Apologies, Forgiveness, Laughter, Smiles, The End?

Mr RedBerries apologies for scaring the life out of me. He said some stuff happened with someone close to him, and he panicked...because he didn't want that happening with us.

I had the biggest rant ever.

I don't think I've ever ranted that much at someone who wasn't my immediate family. In the long term, it might be good, because at least he knows that I'm a whole pile of crazy. In the short term, it might cause him to run away.

But seriously, I had such a massive tantrum. Who does he think he is? To treat me like that? Like a commodity he no longer needs? I can't even explain how upset I was.

Mr RedBerries is awesome. He apologised like crazy. Told me he was crazy. To excuse his crazy.

I don't want to excuse his crazy. I can't forget what he said. I really want to though. I really want us to be alright again...to laugh again...to smile again...I want us to be US again.

It's so strange. A really big part of me knows that we're going to be together forever, despite the odds and the challenges that we face, but another part of me, equally as big, doesn't trust him anymore. I guess I didn't know I trusted him, until he broke my trust.

His apologies, no joke, they were just like empty words to me. I wanted to see meaning behind them, and I wanted to feel like they could heal the wounds that he had made...but they didn't. Just words on an e-mail. Empty letters.

I'm so frustrated. We were on the final lap...the last straight...just one more push until the end...(sorry for the awful metaphors, I'm just really annoyed about everything right now)...and he just messed it up. Between us. His words. They're so sweet, but no saccharine. The perfect mix of knowing all the right things to say, and knowing the right way to say them. A month ago...I would've melted upon reading them. Now...there's nothing. Because nothing makes up for having doubts in us. When our road is so hard, having doubts in us isn't the way forward. It's not the way it's meant to be.

Guys are meant to be strong. To hold things together, when others cannot. All my life, I've had to be strong when others were weak. I don't want my marriage to be like that. I don't want that to happen for the rest of my life. I'm tired of being strong. Sometimes, I want someone to lean on. Someone to turn to. Someone who can tell me it's all going to be alright. I don't want to have to beg my husband to stay with me. I want him to be with me because he *loves* to see me everyday. Because I make him happy. Because he knows, just like I know, that we're meant to be together, by the Grace of Allah. I don't want any compromise on that. I can't compromise on that.

I hate this indecisiveness that's crept into my soul.