We are so delighted to have Maryam AbdulAziz back with us submitting her own letter for our current theme. We hope you enjoy
I have so much hope; I just wish you could see it yourself. I know that you—we, for that matter, are so used to being put into this tiny little container that somehow defines us all; I know the names that we get called. We all know them.
The common: Silly. Simple. Stupid. Lazy. Liar. Insufficient. Disobedient. Not enough. Not exact. Not right.
It’s hard isn’t? Being young. Youthful. Wasting our prime on things and people that don’t matter, because for so long we’ve been told that we cant be anything beyond our simple little boundaries, and we believe it, actually.
But, they don’t really see us. They’re blind. They don’t see us when we talk about the things that make us happy; When the people that make us happy talk to us; When we’re so passionate about an art or a science that it becomes us;
Or when your eyes light up when you talk to me about everything that you love; When you tell me about the history of Afghanistan, or the history of you; And they don’t see you when you’re broken. They don’t see you; they don’t know you; they don’t understand you—and God, does it hurt, when someone so blind plucks the wings of a dove, just because it cant see what it is; what it should be!
We’re broken; We’re shredded; We’re torn apart.
We’re incomplete; We’re chained; We’re walking the death row together, on a pathway so small with walls so high.
We are on our way to destroying who we are, because of people who cant see who we can be.
This is our reality: the pressure to always be the same, when we don’t really have to be.
This is a cry for help. This is a wakeup call for the sleeping generation.
I’m Losing my Wings.
Author: Maryam AbdulAziz