About nadiainherownworld

I’m a college student, aspiring dance artist, writer, recreational philosopher, New Yorker in training, and user of the Oxford comma. Follow me as I try to negotiate the edges of the real world. https://nadiainherownworld.wordpress.com/

You ask me to bring my whole self into the room

You ask me to bring my whole self into the room,
and I wonder if you know what you’re asking for. 

See, some parts of myself haven’t spoken to each other in years.
Some parts have yet to meet, and fear the day they will.

You hardly seem prepared for that kind of reunion.

Some parts only emerge from their shells to the call of their kind.
(They’re adapted to survive that way.)

To pry them open for your viewing would be death.

Some parts of me aren’t made for rooms like this.
They’d scratch up the floor with their jittering claws,
Dent the ceiling as they leap too high,
Fill the space with unruly screeches,
Until you’re sorry you invited them in.

And maybe my self isn’t a whole,
but merely a part–
a part of many
that is fully alive only when rooted into those circles and lineages

that have shaped and are shaped by it–
So no:
It can’t really live as an uprooted centerpiece at your table. 

You tell me to bring my whole self into the room,
and I wonder:

What do you think you’ve done for me
that I owe you such an impossible feat?

Advertisements

If my Arabic could talk back to me:

You have the audacity
to sigh and roll your eyes at me
when I seem a little distant
or take some time to come when you call for me?

After you hid me in your closet
refused to be heard with me in public;
After you left me
shunned and neglected me;
And after all those years
When you wouldn’t speak with me
even when I called

Now somehow,
you expect me to leap back wholeheartedly
the moment you want me to be your little side bitch?

Well forgive me
if I take some time to warm up to the idea
If I have some trepidations
about touching your lips again.

Because bitch, I am beautiful.
Do you know how many artists
have drawn testaments to my infinite curves?
How many poets have blown their minds 

just trying to channel the shades
of sonics and meaning
resonating from my every syllable?
And the bits of me that felt too rough for your mouth—
that’s the stuff that music is built upon.

You had your chance with me, but do you even know what you turned down?

Nadia, ya habibti
You say you miss me
And I want to believe you
We can talk, and see where this goes
But I have to take this slow.

Things I Learned This Year Part 2 (Ongoing Growth and Stuff)

I usually wrap up the arbitrary time interval of the Gregorian calendar with some “Things I Learned post(s) (like thisthisthis, or this). This is the second chunk of Things from this year (catch up on Part 1).

We all have thoughts in our head that we didn’t put there ourselves. But it’s our responsibility to decide which of those guide our actions.

Empty mandates to “love yourself” are pretty useless, especially when they don’t address the real world environments and systems that contribute to self-hate. You don’t need need to meta-berate yourself for having insecurities. While you’re working through them, you can have a healthy, functional (if not quite loving) working relationship with yourself that allows you to live and love your life.

Don’t assume you don’t have something to teach someone with more status than you. Don’t assume you don’t have something to learn from someone with less status than you.

I don’t need a clearly articulated “good reason” for leaving a situation I don’t feel good about (personally or professionally). The good reasons become clear with a little distance.

Originality isn’t everything. Some of the most potent ideas are the ones that lots of people are thinking and not enough people are saying out loud.

Don’t underestimate how far you can get by reaching out to people with genuine excitement.

The work-in-progress version of myself can be worth sharing. I can be performing professionally and also beginning new phases of training. I can write about topics as I continue to learn about them. I can offer help with personal problems I’m also still working through. You don’t have to stay silent until you’re “finished” growing, or become stagnant once you’ve started speaking.

When you start getting real, some people will get closer, and others will back away. I’ve been lucky this year to have some wonderful humans in the former category, whose presence more than outweighs any superficial relationships I’ve lost.

The competition of who has the most correct/radical sociopolitical opinions can be a trap. Being critical is important, but I’m more interested in supporting and joining people putting something positive (and inevitably imperfect) into practice.

Being late to the (metaphorical) party isn’t a reason not to show up. Chances are once you’re there, you’ll realize lots of people are still arriving.

Don’t put people on pedestals.
People who are experts in one area might be terribly ignorant in another. Artists who have made brilliant work can also make crap. People who have done important social justice work can also be assholes or abusers.

It’s not fair to demand infallibility from people we respect, or to dispose of them as soon as they slip up. It’s dangerous to unconditionally accept ideas coming from people we respect. And it’s ironically dehumanizing to see people we respect as superheroes, overlooking the possibility that they struggle or need support themselves.