fear

there is a fear that makes you more cautious. then there is a fear that almost numbs your brain. the fear itself makes what you are afraid of, inevitable.

i wish i could stare the fear in the face and do what i need to do. knowing that if what i'm afraid of happens, i will be alright... i wish i believed i will be alright. that i could be happy again, even if the unfortunate happens...

i miss living close to my family. they gave me courage...now, i am a lot more fearful. as if i am still a child who feels helpless when left alone in the big world, among strangers.

name changing and engagement rings

This is an old article, but it is intersting.

At some point the author says:

"Interestingly, over the past 10 years fewer and fewer women have kept their maiden names. According to a recent study by Harvard economics professor Claudia Goldin, based on Massachusetts birth records, the number of college-educated women in their 30s keeping their name has dropped from 23 percent in 1990 to 17 percent in 2000.* Goldin suggests that this may be because we are moving toward a more conservative view of marriage. Perhaps. But it may also be that the maiden name is no longer a fraught political issue. These days, no one is shocked when an independent-minded woman takes her husband's name, any more than one is shocked when she announces that she is staying at home with her kids. Today, the decision is one of convenience, of a kind of luxury—which name do you like the sound of? What do you feel like doing? The politics are almost incidental. Our fundamental independence is not so imperiled that we need to keep our names. The statement has, thanks to a more dogmatic generation, been made. Now we dabble in the traditional. We cobble together names. At this point—apologies to Lucy Stone, and her pioneering work in name keeping—our attitude is: Whatever works."

I find this way of thinking very unfortunate. The idea that we are past the point that feminism is only a matter of taste, is not only untrue, but also backwards. Just because we are not obliged to change our last names it doesn't make the matter unimportant. True, if this was the law, it would be a very different matter altogether and we, as women, would have to put effort and energy to change that law.

But principles matters as well. My last name is a part of my identity. I don't dwell on the fact that my last name is my father's (as opposed to my mom's), but I have lived with it for the past 30 years and it is mine now. I find it insulting to change my last name because it's what my spouse wants, or because it is convenient. It would be also convenient if I married a rich man when I was 20 years old and I never worked. It would also be convenient if I lived off of my parents money, or got my rich boyfriends to buy me expensive gifts. But i find all of those an insult to my personality and independence. And I do not choose to do something for the mere fact that's convenient.

The author also mentions "These days, no one is shocked ...when she announces that she is staying at home with her kids. "

When in the history people were shocked at the idea of a stay at home mom? Is this what we are championing for women these days? That the days of fighting for your rights is over, so now you can sit back and relax and roll back to your role as a traditional mother and wife, and never worry about the unequal sex laws.

Good thing that women who do not think that way are plenty.

This was a comment from one reader that I found close to what I think:

"Don't give me the argument that everyone in your family should have one name. In that case, why doesn't the man change it? To the poster who talks about diamond rings -- I agree; it's hypocritical to live off your husband's wealth but pretend to be liberated. In my ideal world, women would not be changing their names, there would be no diamond rings on engagement (or both the man and the woman would wear rings bought for each other), there would be no down-on-one-knee proposals (not even for the sake of traditions), and there would be equal division of labor between the sexes in the home and the workplace. I wish that the progressive, smart, and educated women of our generation would start putting their feet down about these things. "

winter

it's cold again. in the past three or four years, i have become resentful of winter and the cold. i guess because i worked outside for most of the winter and i was never able to keep warm no mater how i dressed. the sinus headaches don't help either. i also cease to work out during winter because i like running and biking, but when it is below 45F, i can not even think of going for a run. so i basically hibernate during the winter.

but today when i was walking down the street along central park, for a minute i started to like winter. it was cold and windy, but the sun was shining. the trees, the beautiful tall trees of the park, had no leaves. they were grayish brown, but they were standing tall. i made me think maybe it's ok to stop growing for a little while. it's not such a bad thing to hibernate and prepare for a fresh start when spring comes.

i though maybe it's ok that i'm not reading as much as i like, and i'm not learning many new things. it's ok that i don't have a job i dream of, and i am still in a funk after my dad's death. it's ok not to be happy go lucky for a little while and let the winter take over. cause i am getting ready for a fresh start and i'm trying to gather some energy in my bones. i'm giving my head and my body a little rest before i take off again.

i think the tall trees of central park made me like the winter much better today.

free at last

M is out of jail. it feels like it's been years. for the past 5 months, every time i thought about him, my eyes would tear up. i imagined the worst, maybe because i have an idea what happens to people in an iranian prison. i imagined him being tormented and humiliated. i imagined countless sleepless nights, bad food and terrible light. i had many nightmares; i was worried. but somehow, in every picture i had in my head, he was always standing tall. he was standing strong, and mocking the interrogators by his calmness, by his piercing looks. i knew that he is in peace, and proud of himself. i can't help but to feel respect and admiration for him. i have always felt that way about him.

if not for people like him, iran would be a lot scarier right now.

grief

i wonder if grief is the same for everyone. i forget about my dad's passing a lot of times. it has been 45 days and it is easier than it was before. but even then, even when i went home for the funeral, i forgot about it every now and then. i would wake up in the morning, thinking about so many other things. and then it would hit me. as if for the first time: he was gone. gone. just like that.

i don't know how i am dealing with this. i am doing ok, i work, i play, i go out, i love people, and i plan for the future. but i feel like there is a hole somewhere. like when you warm up your apartment but you feel a draft that you can't find where it is coming from. i feel like i have lost some of my balance, some of my support, a part of me, a part of my strength, my sanity...

i don't want to think about it. i do all i can not to think about it. i watch all the stupid tv shows, i do not look at the old pictures, i exhaust myself at work... i don't let my mind wander. i hardly want to write about it. but my mind is not being deceived. i have dreams. i have all sorts of dreams about him, all the time. the harder i try not to think about it, the more frequently the dreams occur. there are good dreams and bad dreams. there are sad ones and happy ones. but there are there.

i can't control the dreams. sometimes i don't even want to. they are my connection to a world with him. a world that doesn't exist when i am awake. the world that will never exist. and i miss that future. i miss all of what is not going to ever happen.

i miss my dad.

dream

I had a dream about my dad last night. I was back home, we were just hanging out, but we were hugging each other. My dad’s friend was there too. He said “I don’t know about you living in New York and stuff. I think you should come back and spend some times with him. My dad was just standing there looking at him with those kind affectionate eyes. He had a faint smile; that sad smile of his. He was happy to see me happy and he was sad that I was so far away.

I felt like something dragged me out of his arms and I woke up sobbing. He was so close, he was right there. I could feel him, smell his body.

I guess this is the closest I could get to him ever again.

The thing in my throat hurts. It hurts so bad.

I can't write about it yet. I just can't. I will need a day to write about it. I don't have a day and the strength to do it now.

i do write down bits and pieces when i can, but i can't write about it just yet. as if it becomes more real if i do.

i will write about it soon, one day.