Low Self Esteem and Men Who Don’t Care

Men are intrinsically little boys.

Really they are.

What you heard about them on ‘Maury’ and ‘Oprah’ and all those day time talk shows. Its all true.

Fundamentally, they want to be told what to do, and what not to do.

And they need. NEED. Someone to lay the boundaries for them, and MAKE them stick to it.

Okay not all guys.

That would be generalising.

Which is not what we do here ūüėČ right?

So SOME guys. ..like to be-little their significant others.

Its a trend.

Its a thing.

A thing I have noticed again and again.

So much so that I had to write about it!

I have had enough of advising my girlfriends on this annoying species of Man (read cockroach) that I felt it necessary to make sure the rest of you aren’t enduring the same kind of cockroach.

Now this kind of cockroach, tends to be an insecure mess.

He doesn’t show it.

Nooooooo.

He is an insecure macho mess.

He portrays a really strong front though.

He acts tough.

And is usually the boss of the relationship.

Nothing wrong with that so far.

Problem is, he has picked a strong woman.

ESPECIALLY since he is insecure and really a weakling at heart. He tends to seek out stronger women.

And then when he HAS said strong woman. He gets terrified he will lose her.

And he gets…

intimidated by her strength.

And overwhelmed by her independence.

And beauty.

And basically realises he is a cockroach that has managed to snag a princess somehow.

And he gets terrified.

TERRIFIED.

Terr- I – fied.

With a capital ‘T’

That he will lose her.

So he begins to break her down.

‘Princess is too good for me.

I know it.

She knows it.

All the other men she works and interacts with know it to.

Its only a matter of time until she leaves me.’

Cockroaches brain spins around and around and around.

‘The only way out is to make sure she doesn’t realise how good she is.

How strong she is.

How hot she is.

That way, that way….

She will never have the confidence to leave me.’

And the sabotage begins.

Cockroach undermines every decision you make.

Calls you ¬†a’pretty little thing’

Makes you feel like you can’t make a single decision in your life, to SAVE your life!

And then starts with breaking down your self esteem.

He starts by casually mentioning that maybe you should hit the gym.

Or on reaching for that second slice of pizza, he gives you a face. The ‘Maybe you shouldn’t do that’ face.

Or maybe, he asks you if your dress is too tight.

If he gets away with the so called ‘subtle’ hints, and sees your self esteem cracking before his eyes…

It escalates.

Now he feels brave enough to call you ‘fat’ to your face.

He may even throw in a few names.

‘Elephant’

Likens you to a popular Tv host.

Maybe calls you a ‘Chunky’

Ah ha! Since that stage of the plan is working, he continues in his resolve to secretly make you an emotional wreck.

‘You are too emotional!’

‘Only a woman would say that kind of nonsense’

Sigh.

Need I go on?

So many friends of mine seem to have boyfriends or husbands like this.

It is not a coincidence.

Its a pandemic.

Its a generation of men, who were bred to believe they wanted a strong woman.

However, they have never learnt how to treat or deal with a strong woman.

So while their heads tell them they want a strong woman, their neathanderal hormones kick in, and tell them that they need to break this woman down, because she is stronger than him.

Doesn’t mean he doesn’t love his woman.

It also doesn’t mean he even realises what he is doing.

And I am not saying, by any means, to leave your husbands or boyfriends.

Just to recognise it for what it is.

And stop it in its tracks before it gets worse.

So the next time your boyfriend says you ought to go the gym…

Parry with a ‘Well your paunch is starting to look like it needs some work too’

Or maybe even call him up on it.

If he wants to call you fat. Let him say it to your face.

And ¬†then you can say you feel you are sexy and hot the way you are. And if he doesn’t like it, tough. Because he knew what package deal he was getting when he signed up for the relationship.

DO NOT let him get away with making you feel bad about yourself.

Shoot it down when it starts.

MAKE him see that that kind of crap will not fly.

You will NOT allow it.

You are too confident and strong a woman to LET him get under your skin and make you feel bad about yourself.

Now.

Not tomorrow.

Now.

Tomorrow, he may have escalated to buying your clothes. And telling you you are an an ‘ugly cow’

And that ladies. Is emotional abuse.

Don’t let him.

Hijabi Work Wear

Hijabi in front of the Sultan Hassan Mosque (l...

Hijabi

Since third year of medical school, I have been wearing formal clothes.

I own more formal clothes than I do casual.

Hence a ‘work wear’ piece is ….a good place to start.

So. I thought it would help to start with a few tips.

1. Cardigans

Long cardigans, short cardigans,wooly cardigans. They are your best friends.

The top you love in River Island isn’t long sleeved? The answer: Cardigan.

The gorgeous formal shirt from United Colours Of Benneton is too fitted? Answer: Cardigan.

The trousers you want to wear are a little too tight around the bottom? Answer: Cardigan! (a long one)

I have a huge range of cardies. Long ones, leopard print ones, polka dots, floral prints. HnM is clearly the best place to get cardies for good value. Usually they go for around 10-15 pounds ish.

When it gets hot? Switch to the ones in a jersey material. They are harder to find. And only come out in summer time. My advice: stock up. Lots and lots of different colours.

2. A good trouser fit

There is nothing worse than a pair of trousers that don’t fit well. As a hijabi, you really don’t want them too tight. You also don’t want them so big you look like you’re drowning in them. I NEVER buy trousers without trying them on first. Different styles suit different body shapes. Try on trousers in different stores, try new styles. You might be surprised at what suits you!

I am short, petite, and pear shaped (read, big ass! lol) And I was super surprised when peg leg trousers looked good on me. Granted I only tried the trousers on in the first place because they were on sale…. lol. But they worked for me. Loose. Comfortable. Tailored. Stylish.

3. The matching issue

Okay. Your hijab doesn’t always have to match perfectly. Nor do your shoes, cardigan or bag. Sometimes, try NOT matching. A grey pair of pants, go with a blue cardigan.

A green hijab, goes with a brown pair of flats.

Mix and match items in your wardrobe and have fun with them.

4. Shoes

Work shoes. Well it depends what kind of work you do. I am on the go ALL the time. So I prefer flats. I CANNOT wear heels to work. I wish I could. There is just something about wearing heels. You walk different, feel different. It just gives you that extra edge of confidence.

If you can’t wear heels, or like me you run around a lot at work, try wedges.

They’re great. You get the added height, without the bunions :p

5. Skirts

Okay. So most work-wear skirts or dresses tend to be short. Or tight. Or short and tight.

Now, I have said before I am not an overly strict hijabi…

So, I make do.

I wear really, really dark, thick tights.

Some of you, might frown on this idea…fair enough. But it works for me.

If it doesn’t work for you..I would definitely go with long skirts. Yes, they are harder to come by in UK shops. But be on the look out…and you will be surprised. Summer is usually the best time to get long flowy skirts…Get a few in different colours and stagger your wearing of them.

6. Have Fun

Have fun with colours. With combinations of outfits. With shoes.

When I look good, I automatically make myself feel better, and I tend to have a better day at work.

The compliments help also :p

Plus, I like that I change peoples perceptions of Hijabis.

Most people tell me I look really good for a Hijabi. Some may take that as an insult, or a reflection on their…need to look more austere (more ‘Hijabi’) I just take it as ¬†a compliment.

Stay tuned for my next post: My first Work Wear Outfit. ūüôā

xx

Blood, Sweat And Tears

Barbie Doll Museum at Bloomingdale's

We are born with a clean slate.

But within minutes, our families lay heaps and heaps of societal responsibility on our heads.

I am an angry Muslim girl.

Not because I am angry at God.

But because I am angry at society.

From the day a mum buys her daughter a Barbie doll.

Or the day a little girl’s brother laughs at her for trying to play football with his friends…

Messages are being downloaded direct into her hardware.

Like a little ticking virus bomb.

Waiting for the right time to explode.

Infecting the system. Drive by drive.

‘You are a girl. You must behave a certain way.’

We mostly don’t realize this.

How controlled we are.

How bloody brainwashed we are.

How caged we are.

………….Or maybe its just me……..

Society ingrains in us that we have to follow a specific mould.

Any deviation from that and we are relegated pariahs. Outcasts.¬†Treated badly to set an example…so that none of the others follow your deviant, devilish ways.

It’s human nature. The ‘Pack mentality’.

Blending in keeps you alive. Sticking out, well it singles you out to predators, and you endanger the whole community.

Except we do not live in a jungle any more.

Doesn’t matter which society you think about..each has its own unwritten rules and regulations. A code of conduct written in blood, sweat and tears.

How many of us follow these rules without even thinking twice………..?

……………I know I am being a bit vague, forgive me.

I am trying to decide what path my life will take.

And I feel bound by the shackles of what society expects me to do.

What’s worse, is that these shackles are not even real.

I can break them any time I want.

I can go off to Rio, and become a dancer if I want. (For example)

But the little seeds of propaganda planted in my brain from day 1…keep holding me back.

Nobody is TELLING me I can’t do what I want.

But my own conscience is holding me back.

What will society think?

What will my family think?

What will they all saaaay?

Brave are the souls who decide to take the path less travelled.

They throw caution to the wind. And watch it burn.

These, these are the founders of tomorrow.

Rule breakers.

Trend setters.

Labelled crazy, loco!

But eventually, lauded as the inventors, trend setters, and physicists of tomorrow!

I do not aspire to be the next Einstein or Van Gogh.

Only to live my dreams to the fullest.

Without being encumbered by the collective gasp of societal disapproval.

I CHOOSE to travel.

I CHOOSE to not be married (right now)

I CHOOSE to work.

I CHOOSE to be educated.

I CHOOSE to be different.

I CHOOSE a partner you do not expect me to.

I CHOOSE to be an Independent Muslim Woman.

I CHOOSE to throw caution to the wind.

Because it is my prerogative.

 

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I–
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

The Road Less Travelled, by Robert Frost

Women’s Wars

How many of you ladies get along better with men? *shoots hand up*

How many of you find other women bitchy at that time of the month? *shoots hand hiiiiigher up in the air*

How many have been on the receiving end of a stinging, highly unfair, tetchy remark from a female colleague? *waves hand about frantically*

What is it about women, that we bring out the cat (the nasty, streetwise one, with claws that can tear a man’s balls to shreds) in each other?

Why is it that we have this urge to compete. Compete with every last sweat drenched eyelash, until we have stomped the offending usurping other woman into the dust. Leaving a quivering, emotional wreck, that no other man would want, and no boss in their right mind would promote.

In work, in life. Women compete against each other. Visciously.

Men, step aside.

You probably haven’t even noticed it. Most likely because it goes on in a hidden world of subtle, underhanded jibes, digs and shoves, horrible enough to make a grown man weep. (Admittedly, several grown men have probably already wept at the hands of said women)

Its kind of a secret paralell universe that men don’t seem to pick up on. Like dog whistles to the human ear, the daily woman-woman combat is not perceptible to the male species.

Or maybe they do see it, and just choose not to seeeee it. Not that I blame them.

From sibling rivalry (which sister gets the most love, attention, and pretty clothes), to ‘healthy’ competition between friends for the highest salary, the hottest man, the best designer clothes; We ALL succumb to the Amazonian Wars.

Unfortunately, some of this fighting is far from healthy.

Take today for instance. A new member of staff joined our team at work. She was a pretty, young thang. And she inexplicably got my shackles up immeeeeeeediately. My initial thought on being introduced to her¬† was: ‘ugh she’s pretty’ (if you missed it, that was NOT a compliment)

Second thought was: ‘Ugh, they are going to be clamouring after her. Absolutely NO work will get done’

Now this may sound like the ravings of a jealous maniac, but I was genuinely concerned. For about 2 seconds.

I was mainly just upset that the attention would be drawn away from me!!!

Instead of being the nice, caring person that I am (Honest!) and showing her around, I was giving her daggers behind her back, and gossiping about her at the water cooler. Sigh.

Women!

What made my behavior even more appalling was that I was on the receiving end of such treatment not long ago. I was a newbie at work only 2 months ago! And the nice men on my team made the transition so easy, while the women…..well! The women! Hmph. They corroded my self worth in under 10 seconds flat. I spent the better part of a month picking up the tatters of my self esteem and sewing it back together, piece by painful piece.

Its so easy to get worked up and self-righteous when you are on the receiving end. But we are ever so quick to dish it out to others!

A female colleague recently gave me a dressing down in front of a room-full of seniors and fellow colleagues. The fact that I had shined brilliantly the day before, and made her ineptitude crystal clear (unintentionally) in front of the boss had absolutely nothing to do with it. Ahem. Yea right!

I would have put the incident down to normal work politics- only, I’ve never seen male colleagues viciously humiliate their peers with such relish. ‘Seek and Destroy’ missions are reserved only for our ruthless half of the species.

Instead of harping on about ‘sisterhood’ and ‘sisterly love’ , I will instead talk of ………….pretending.

Faking it.

If you can’t like your female colleagues. If you honestly just can’t be nice. If you want to claw your friend’s eyes out because she went and bought the same pair of shoes you LOVE, and deliberately wore them at your birthday shindig. PRETEND.

Just act like a loving, caring female.  And eventually, it will start to catch on.

Women will start loving each other unconditionally. They will stop treating each other like an inconveniece to be endured. They will help each other out. Start a ‘Girl code’, where they do NOT steal each others boyfriends or husbands.

There shall be world peace. And an end to world hunger and human suffering.

*Shakes Head*

I’d better get my head out of the clouds.

While I have been typing this, that new colleague is probably making eyes at the boss. Maybe I should too? Is she angling for a promotion? Heck, I haaaateed that her shoes looked so good on her! Sigh.

Blog at WordPress.com.