They Forgot About Us

I am one soul in a world filled with many. Nonetheless my story is not rare or uncommon. Its a catastrophe seen in many lives. Therefore while I may be merely one soul in this world full of millions, I’m certain I speak for the multitude.

I grew up in America. I’m the daughter of two Muslim parents. When I was 13 years old, my parents broke up. By the time I was 14, my parents were granted an overdue divorce. At this point, I was going through an explosion of emotions. The strongest emotion I felt, regrettably, was relief. To me, my parents’ divorce meant no more fights, no more arguing, and no more crying myself to sleep. I was very wrong.

Being the child of divorced parents is tough. However, being the child of divorced Muslim parents is disastrous. Anyone who has been or seen a similar situation understands what I’m talking about. I think the problem starts with our parents. When they file for divorce, they forget about us. I’m not talking about the custody battles. No, they remember to argue about that. They remember to argue about everything and anything negative that happened in their marriage. They remember to scream and shout and throw things at each other. So why then do they forget about us? They lose their way and forget how to be our parents. They start arguing like children. They forget that they are our role models and that we are watching their every move. They forget that they set our example. They forget that we want to be like them one day. In all their rage, they forget to be selfless and understanding. Somewhere somehow they become selfish, not caring about our desires, just determined on hurting their ex spouse. They only feel their pain and their hurt. Somehow they are incapable of seeing the pain and hurt in our eyes. Seeing your parents lose their temper and argue like children is not only heartbreaking, its tragic. I remember the day I came to the realization that my parents aren’t the people I thought they were. That is the day my whole world came crashing down. They traumatize us for life and I don’t even think they realize it.

After my parents divorce, I was put in a horrible situation. At first, my father forced me to live with him. After having my mom by my side for so long, a life with her absence was unimaginable and I could not adjust. I missed her terribly. I missed her so much I cried and begged my dad to allow me to visit her. He yelled at me and immediately dismissed my horrible suggestion. Still, I missed her. I needed her. My father was oblivious to my sorrow. Eventually, he put me in a situation where I had to choose between him and her and so I left. It is the most difficult decision I have ever made. For how does one choose between parents? I still haven’t recovered.

What my father failed to realize was that even though him and my mother were no longer together, my mother would remain my mother forever. As much as he wanted, he could not change that. I don’t regret the decision I made. I love my mom and I am happy with her.

We cannot change the past. We cannot blame ourselves for the things we can’t control. We cannot bring our parents back together. We can never stop our parents from arguing or despising each other, but we can learn from them. We can hold on to those bad memories they handed us and make sure that history does not repeat itself. We can take all our parents mistakes and make sure that one day, when we are the ones in control, we never do the same.