Kids, my 32nd birthday brought with it an unleashing of bravery. An opportunity to no longer hide behind hurt feelings when someone said something so offensive to me, I could not stand a minute more of staying silent about it. A chance to own my spotlight and say F*** you, World, this, this is ME.
More than just the constant compliments (“Fazielah, you are looking radiant!” and “Wow! How gorgeous are you?”) that came my way, I, in my core, was embracing it. F*** the diet and trying to compete with skinny models. F*** discussing calories like it mattered. F*** running after people who said they loved me but didn’t like me.F*** trying to fit into society’s narrow-minded mould for me.
I was and still am f***ing fabulous and that presented itself to the world, and myself, as happiness.
I was at a baby related event and a family friend made the stock standard joke:
Him:” You and your sister must really make a plan now to give your mother grandchildren, hey. Oh, wait, what am I saying? Your sister has that sorted, with a boyfriend and all, but you? With you, we are probably going to have to wait another 10 years.”
Before 32, I would have stayed silent and let the hurt this comment caused fester, make me feel unworthy of love, unworthy of having children and always, always being seen as a second class citizen in my family and society.
But Hell to the f*** NO! Not anymore, not this day, Asshole!
I looked up from where moments before I had been cooing over his gorgeous baby daughter resting in her mother’s arms and said:
“Actually, no, you will not have to wait that long. I am having a baby in two years’ time”
He looked down and away uncomfortably. His wife turned to me, surprised and said:
“Oh, is there a guy?”
I pulled myself up to my full height, looked into their shocked faces and said, proudly and clearly:
“No, but whether there is a guy or not, there will be a baby in two years’ time”.
Mic dropped, I walked away and went off to play with other beautiful babies.
Kids, I have wanted you, dreamt of you, longed for you with all that I am for so long but really, having you was not up to whether or not I met your father. And it was no one’s f***ing business how you came to be.
I thought I was the only one who was absolutely disgusted with the way single women were spoken to, how gross assumptions were made about our lives, our bodies, our needs until I came across this f***ing magnificent talk by actress Tracee Ellis Ross:
Preach, Tracee, preach: This life is MINE!