So Close

Exactly what I'm feeling right now. So close.

Ke Sana Denganmu

 I'm such a sucker for love songs. I know.

Especially from these two renowned Malaysian singers;

Adibah Noor and Sam (Innuendo)

Enjoy.

Countdown wedding day: 87 days to go!

Ducked and Waited

I ducked. I waited and it worked

Those three simple actions. Sounds simple, but we need buckets full of patiences, persistences and resiliences.

The article that you'll be reading in this entry is an article to keep. As reminder that beautiful things can turn sour when the ways are not right.

Nauzulbillah Minzalik.

***************************************

The last word: He said he was leaving. 

She ignored him.

When Laura Munson’s husband asked for a divorce, she ducked instead of fighting. He needed to learn, she says, that his unhappiness wasn’t really about her

POSTED ON AUGUST 13, 2009, AT 11:19 AM

Hapiness starts within. Eventually, my husband got it. SEE ALL 79 PHOTOS

Let’s say you have what you believe to be a healthy marriage. You’re still friends and lovers after spending more than half of your lives together. The dreams you set out to achieve in your 20s—gazing into each other’s eyes in candlelit city bistros, when you were single and skinny—have for the most part come true.

Two decades later you have the 20 acres of land, the farmhouse, the children, the dogs and horses. You’re the parents you said you would be, full of love and guidance. You’ve done it all: Disneyland, camping, Hawaii, Mexico, city living, stargazing.

Sure, you have your marital issues, but on the whole you feel so self-satisfied about how things have worked out that you would never, in your wildest nightmares, think you would hear these words from your husband one fine summer day: “I don’t love you anymore. I’m not sure I ever did. I’m moving out. The kids will understand. They’ll want me to be happy.”

But wait. This isn’t the divorce story you think it is. Neither is it a begging-him-to-stay story. It’s a story about hearing your husband say, “I don’t love you anymore” and deciding not to believe him. And what can happen as a result.

Here’s a visual: Child throws a temper tantrum. Tries to hit his mother. But the mother doesn’t hit back, lecture or punish. Instead, she ducks. Then she tries to go about her business as if the tantrum isn’t happening. She doesn’t “reward” the tantrum. She simply doesn’t take the tantrum personally because, after all, it’s not about her.

Let me be clear: I’m not saying my husband was throwing a child’s tantrum. No. He was in the grip of something else—a profound and far more troubling meltdown that comes not in childhood but in midlife, when we perceive that our personal trajectory is no longer arcing reliably upward as it once did. But I decided to respond the same way I’d responded to my children’s tantrums. And I kept responding to it that way. For four months.

“I don’t love you anymore. I’m not sure I ever did.”

His words came at me like a speeding fist, like a sucker punch, yet somehow in that moment I was able to duck. And once I recovered and composed myself, I managed to say, “I don’t buy it.” Because I didn’t.

He drew back in surprise. Apparently he’d expected me to burst into tears, to rage at him, to threaten him with a custody battle. Or beg him to change his mind.

So he turned mean. “I don’t like what you’ve become.”

Gut-wrenching pause. How could he say such a thing? That’s when I really wanted to fight. To rage. To cry. But I didn’t.

Instead, a shroud of calm enveloped me, and I repeated those words: “I don’t buy it.”

You see, I’d recently committed to a non-negotiable understanding with myself. I’d committed to “the End of Suffering.” I’d finally managed to exile the voices in my head that told me my personal happiness was only as good as my outward success, rooted in things that were often outside my control. I’d seen the insanity of that equation and decided to take responsibility for my own happiness. And I mean all of it.

My husband hadn’t yet come to this understanding with himself. He had enjoyed many years of hard work, and its rewards had supported our family of four all along. But his new endeavor hadn’t been going so well, and his ability to be the breadwinner was in rapid decline. He’d been miserable about this, felt useless, was losing himself emotionally and letting himself go physically. And now he wanted out of our marriage; to be done with our family.

But I wasn’t buying it.

I said: “It’s not age-appropriate to expect children to be concerned with their parents’ happiness. Not unless you want to create co-dependents who’ll spend their lives in bad relationships and therapy. There are times in every relationship when the parties involved need a break. What can we do to give you the distance you need, without hurting the family?”

“Huh?” he said.

“Go trekking in Nepal. Build a yurt in the back meadow. Turn the garage studio into a man-cave. Get that drum set you’ve always wanted. Anything but hurting the children and me with a reckless move like the one you’re talking about.”

Then I repeated my line, “What can we do to give you the distance you need, without hurting the family?”

“Huh?”

“How can we have a responsible distance?”

“I don’t want distance,” he said. “I want to move out.”

My mind raced. Was it another woman? Drugs? Unconscionable secrets? But I stopped myself. I would not suffer.

Instead, I went to my desk, Googled “responsible separation,” and came up with a list. It included things like: Who’s allowed to use what credit cards? Who are the children allowed to see you with in town? Who’s allowed keys to what?

I looked through the list and passed it on to him.

His response: “Keys? We don’t even have keys to our house.”

I remained stoic. I could see pain in his eyes. Pain I recognized.

“Oh, I see what you’re doing,” he said. “You’re going to make me go into therapy. You’re not going to let me move out. You’re going to use the kids against me.”

“I never said that. I just asked: What can we do to give you the distance you need ... ”

“Stop saying that!”

Well, he didn’t move out.

Instead, he spent the summer being unreliable. He stopped coming home at his usual 6 o’clock. He would stay out late and not call. He blew off our entire Fourth of July—the parade, the barbecue, the fireworks—to go to someone else’s party. When he was at home, he was distant. He wouldn’t look me in the eye. He didn’t even wish me “Happy Birthday.”

But I didn’t play into it. I walked my line. I told the kids: “Daddy’s having a hard time, as adults often do. But we’re a family, no matter what.” I was not going to suffer. And neither were they.

My trusted friends were irate on my behalf. “How can you just stand by and accept this behavior? Kick him out! Get a lawyer!”

I walked my line with them, too. This man was hurting, yet his problem wasn’t mine to solve. In fact, I needed to get out of his way so he could solve it.

I know what you’re thinking: I’m a pushover. I’m weak and scared and would put up with anything to keep the family together. I’m probably one of those women who would endure physical abuse. But I can assure you, I’m not. I load 1,500-pound horses into trailers and gallop through the high country of Montana all summer. I went through Pitocin-induced natural childbirth. And a Caesarean section without follow-up drugs. I am handy with a chain saw.

I simply had come to understand that I was not at the root of my husband’s problem. He was. If he could turn his problem into a marital fight, he could make it about us. I needed to get out of the way so that wouldn’t happen.

Privately, I decided to give him time. Six months.

I had good days and I had bad days. On the good days, I took the high road. I ignored his lashing out, his merciless jabs. On bad days, I would fester in the August sun while the kids ran through sprinklers, raging at him in my mind. But I never wavered. Although it may sound ridiculous to say, “Don’t take it personally” when your husband tells you he no longer loves you, sometimes that’s exactly what you have to do.

Instead of issuing ultimatums, yelling, crying, or begging, I presented him with options. I created a summer of fun for our family and welcomed him to share in it, or not—it was up to him. If he chose not to come along, we would miss him, but we would be just fine, thank you very much. And we were.

And, yeah, you can bet I wanted to sit him down and persuade him to stay. To love me. To fight for what we’ve created. You can bet I wanted to.

But I didn’t.

I barbecued. Made lemonade. Set the table for four. Loved him from afar.

And one day, there he was, home from work early, mowing the lawn. A man doesn’t mow his lawn if he’s going to leave it. Not this man. Then he fixed a door that had been broken for eight years. He made a comment about our front porch needing paint. Our front porch. He mentioned needing wood for next winter. The future. Little by little, he started talking about the future.

It was Thanksgiving dinner that sealed it. My husband bowed his head humbly and said, “I’m thankful for my family.”

He was back.

And I saw what had been missing: pride. He’d lost pride in himself. Maybe that’s what happens when our egos take a hit in midlife and we realize we’re not as young and golden anymore.

When life’s knocked us around. And our childhood myths reveal themselves to be just that. The truth feels like the biggest sucker-punch of them all: It’s not a spouse, or land, or a job, or money that brings us happiness. Those achievements, those relationships, can enhance our happiness, yes, but happiness has to start from within. Relying on any other equation can be lethal.

My husband had become lost in the myth. But he found his way out. We’ve since had the hard conversations. In fact, he encouraged me to write about our ordeal. To help other couples who arrive at this juncture in life. People who feel scared and stuck. Who believe their temporary feelings are permanent. Who see an easy out and think they can escape.

My husband tried to strike a deal. Blame me for his pain. Unload his feelings of personal disgrace onto me.

But I ducked. And I waited. And it worked.

This essay originally appeared in The New York Times. Used with permission. All rights reserved.

Almari Baru

Raya advertisement that ACTUALLY made me WAILED  in the office today.

To my mom and dad, whatever you want in this world, I'll give it to you.

Predictable Much?

10 things I just discovered about myself:

1. When I'm overwhelmed with something, rasa nak muntah. or bers.

2. I thought I'm not the confrontational type, but I am. 

3. Sometimes, I just can't curb my emotions in public. Mr. Z has a problem with that. Be it POSITIVE or negative. 

4. I'm not that affectionate. Huggy-huggy-kiss-kiss is just not me. Ada orang complain. 

5. I have minor OCD. Someone pointed out to me. Did some research, and yes I have OCD. That's my conflict right now.

6. People love my massages. I didn't know I have it in me. 

7. I drive very slowly. The car that I'm driving now doesn't deserved me.

8. I think I'm gonna hate wedding preparations. I thought I'm going to love it, but..CAN WE GET MARRIED ALREADY??

9. Organized. Even though I don't look like it because I panic easily.

10. Defensive.

Betol ke tak? You judge. :)

Decluttering

I need to re-organize my life. Therefore, the action of deactivation my FB. No no, it's not what you think it is..I am not merajuk or running away from people and such, I just need and want to breathe. Sometimes FB is really 'loud' and I would imagine myself putting both hands on my ears whenever I logged in to my FB. 

Seriously, it's not the FB or the people in FB at fault. It is just ME. 

I just need to get away for a while. 

To think, chill and relax. Muhasabah diri perhaps?

We need to do this once in while right?

Declutter declutter declutter.

I'll be back soon!

Farewell Birmingham Part 1

Such a sad day. Today will be the last day I am in Birmingham. Fond memories, bad memories all packed in a year and 3 months time. 

Will surely missed them all.

Will update more when in London. Talk soon.

Half Taken

Just got back from Rome and saw updates on Facebook, this weekend is full with engagement ceremonies! And one of them who got engaged this week was my best friend of 13 year!

Congratulations Tasha Qhairunnisa and Jean Basri Longuet.

Bak kata orang tua, dah bertunang tu darah manis. I'm sure both of you will go through the 'darah manis' period just fine Insya Allah, let's pray to God banyak-banyak ok? 

Tasha, I am so happy for you and Basri, and I'm sure you know that I cannot cannot cannot wait to balik soon to wish (and hug) you a proper CONGRATULATIONS! Sebak jugak coz I wasn't there!

Please please enjoy the wedding preparations dear! It's YOUR DAY!

Anyway, here are some photos of her engagement ceremony which was beautifully done! Love it! (Photos by Tasha Qhairunnisa herself)

Tasha getting ready

Pelamin so sweet, so Tasha

Flower power!

  Dessert table terbaik! By the everdearest Miss Dalia Dania Ruslan. Interested? Email me and I can introduce you to her!

 Discuss discuss discuss!

 Akhirnya ;) Teary eyed when I see this pic.

 With Mama / Aunty Diana tersayang

 From no sister to MANY sisters! You're so lucky babe! 

 Tu diaaaa jejaka tercinta! chewahh (in longhat Utara tone)

 Tu diaaa kesayangan Basri :) 

 Soon-to-be Tasha's family

Beloved family

Best Gfs ;)

 Best UIA mates!

 Haippp.. belom kawin lagi ni.. lol..jk

 The room that we all used to do sleepovers! So pretty decorated by Tasha's mother.

 The lovely bride-to-be with the loveliest hand bouquet by gf Zaznuriah Zahir. Check out her other work.. Hand bouquet, hantaran, sirih junjung and the like, she can do it all. ;)

Lovely ceremony eh? More reasons to be excited about at home! Come quick 2011!

Nobody Knows It But Me

They say it's a broken heart, but I hurt in my whole body.

P.H.D

I saw a friend post on her FB wall about people and perasaan hasad dengki. So, the post below is basically my two cents..

Perasaan Hasad Dengki. PHD. Do you have one?


PHD is basically a feeling of jealousy and envy with a tint of hatred in oneself. It's different than just jealousy or envy though, as this is a bit extreme to a certain point. It's a feeling of jealousy that you cannot control. Yes, let me tell you something, humans do have the control button to control their own jealousy. Why do I say a bit extreme? Because PHD can drive people to do things which are unpleasant, and damaging i.e sabotaging friends' relationship or friendship, spreading nasty and malicious rumours and gossips that can ruin a lot of things (friendship, relationship, marriage, business, society) and many other things that are just plain heartbreaking.

Why do people have PHD? I don't think it's about the other person that they are jealous off, it is mainly they have issues that cannot be resolve within themselves. Those that have PHD may be feeling pain, anger, sadness, rage, grief, HUMILIATION, resentment, worry, SELF-PITY, BLAME and fear. Bukan dekat orang lain tapi diri sendiri. Nampak tak semua negative connotations ni?

So, when you think back, you are actually bringing those negative traits to your own self, bukan orang lain. Tak rasa malu ke kawan-kawan? Jealousy once in a while is fine, it can be for a good cause as sometimes it may push you to work harder in reaching your goals? But a PHD? That's like having issues with your own self. Nanti commit suicide baru tahu. Agree tak?

How to overcome your PHD? Take a breather dude. Think. Eat more, love more and pray more. Yes, go to Italy, India and Bali. So you won't have to kacau orang. Life is short. Seriously it is. Do your own stuff. If you are not satisfied with your life, do something about it. Don't rant or complain. That is like being ungrateful to what God has given you. He the Almighty gave you life. LIVE IT. Make full of it. To the fullest. Friends, let's be happy ok? Let's not take the people that you love for granted. So erase those PHD. It's not worth it. Ain't worth your life at all. Mintak jauh ok?

Raya Low Point

I was listening to some lagu raya with Sheena and Dalia (konon nak semangat Raya laa) , and later I found myself crying like a baby. Tu la, sape suruh cari pasal. Anyway, Eid Mubarak is just two weeks away, and this is the second time I'll be celebrating Eid away from my family. Big deal? Yeah, it is for me though. I've never been away before and the feeling is depressing when thinking about it. ;(

Selamat hari raya everyone. *Hiccups*

Fight For Your Love

Anything that’s worth having
Is sure enough worth fighting for
Quittings out of the question
When it gets tough gotta fight some more
We gotta fight fight fight fight fight for this love
If it’s worth having it’s worth fighting for

I can't wait for Gossip Girl Season 4 coming up this September! It's in Paris, the city of lights and love. Let see if Mr. Bass gets what he wants this time..again..