One Day at a Time
I’m doing a bit better after going off the deep end yet again. I know that everyone understands. I’m the type of person who demands perfection from myself and is more than understanding of others though. When a psychologist asked me if I wanted to harm myself, I told them that I am too cowardly to do anything about the fact that I want to die. They then said that I surely wanted to harm our traffickers who killed my mom and absolutely destroyed me though. They expected me to confirm their fears. Most people would surely want to fuck more than a few bitches up over it. My daddy surely would have put them in their graves without thinking twice about it. I’ve met many people who wouldn’t mind doing it for me. I tell them that the traffickers will be locked away. I don’t want anyone caught up on my account.
I then say what I told the psychologist. They are seriously mentally disturbed for doing what they did to us. They need help, not vengeance. They will hopefully get that help in prison. Hopefully they will be able to turn their lives around and be able to help others who might be headed down the wrong path. Hopefully they can earn some respect and honor for it so that they can earn the right to ask my mom for her forgiveness in heaven. I can already tell you that she forgave them before they even met her. That’s just who she was and I am.
I have always wanted to be a ‘normal’ person. I have never been one to fit in well with others. I tried my best but never succeeded. A wonderful young woman recently listened to the story of my second husband doing me wrong. I said that the Mauritanian community felt so bad about what their own countryman did to me. They fully embraced me. They helped me heal; gave me the best advice and found me a good man to marry. They are good people. That is why I say, Ana Mauritaniya. I am Mauritanian. With incredible love, respect, honor and pride in my heart for the countrymen who adopted me.
The woman saw it quite differently though. She said that it was a truer testament of who I am that they chose me over their own. She was right. I haven’t been embraced by Nebraskans because of what happened to me. They have seen who I am even through the massive trauma. I am the woman who courageously fought for the lives of everyone, including our traffickers before anyone even knew what was happening. I put my body in front of officers in bulletproof vests because I didn’t want them harmed. I warned everyone to be alert, careful and proper in their actions. I still do because I don’t just say that every life matters, especially yours. I mean it and prove it every day.
I have integrity in all that I do and say. It has earned me the respect and esteem of people throughout the world. I have had conversations with people who say that they hate various people for superficial reasons. I then reveal who the hated truly are, part of our human family. There are good and bad in every person, culture, religion, skin color, sexuality, etc. We are still family regardless. We try to help our family and love them through the struggles life hands each of us. It’s what makes us human.
While I am devastated by what happened to me and is happening to our beloved nation, I have faith in my people. We Americans are unique in that we strive for a more perfect union with our diverse, distinctly American family. We rise above our clannish human nature and extend our hands in peace not out of weakness but out of strength. We could’ve easily had another Civil War as many have wanted, including my beloved dad who fully supported and embraced Donald Trump and other seemingly strong people like him. He watched Fox News as the Muslim ban went into effect. He cheered while seeing my brothers and sisters being denied entry at airports throughout our country.
I turned to him and reminded him of who I am. I reminded him that I am a proud, outspoken Muslim American. I reminded him that my friends and family who embraced him and he embraced were among those impacted. I reminded him that it could’ve easily been me, my husband or his very own grandchildren. We could die worlds apart and never see each other again. It would devastate me to be apart from him and mom. I then walked away with tears streaming down my face.
I sat with him again as Mr George Takei spoke for Muslim and Arab Americans using his own experience of being in the Japanese Internment Camps during World War II. My dad’s demeanor had changed considerably. He looked at me with hope and said that the ‘gay Jap’ will make sure that I will remain a free American. He had learned from his service in Vietnam and me that he alone was helpless against the US government. He decided to have faith in Mr George Takei and those Americans who truly understand what makes America great, we the people.
I have hope and faith once more like my daddy did in the bleeding heart liberals he mocked. I have faith not only in the cute little liberal boy who couldn’t protect himself, let alone me who is probably an FBI Agent but my fellow Americans as well. What? I didn’t know. He choked on a bagel I made after saying that it was a bagel a Jew would recognize unlike the bread claiming to be bagels found in the stores around here. I did ask if he was Jewish after I realized that I didn’t need to give him the Heimlich maneuver. I would’ve deferred to his expertise after saying shalom, naturally. Uptight liberal wuss.
I’m a Muslim American. We don’t hate Jews! Another shocker is that Jews don’t hate us either and many, even Israelis themselves DON’T support the Israeli government’s genocide of Palestine. Humans of all kinds generally don’t support genocides, human trafficking and terrorism. It is what gives me faith in humanity because we all know deep down that
Every life matters, especially yours.
God bless the world and especially Her people.
