2014-ey reflections

2014 has turned out to be one of those years I won't forget for a long, long time.

It started out fantastically. surrounded by family and friends, learning the subjects that most interest me from a bunch of nutty professors, and playing the sport I love with an amazing group of people. 

Then, out of nowhere, things took a turn for the worse. I became frustrated with my circumstances, perceiving them to be holding me back. That frustration manifested itself in every aspect of my life; my sport, my work, my relationships. I turned into an angry, impatient and negative person, someone I had never wanted to be. As my outlook deteriorated, so did my situation, and I gave up. I allowed myself to keep being that person, to stop caring about myself, others, and everything that had mattered to me. As a result, I enabled other people to take advantage of me, and to show me the same lack of care and respect that I had for myself. When I lost my grandmother around the same time, I felt completely numb. 

Luckily (?), I had finals to take my mind off things. They certainly did the trick. Weirdly enough, that's where things started to improve. The routine, the focus and the goal brought me some peace and clarity, and so I finished, graduating in the summer. Somehow though, I didn't feel I had finished my time at university quite right. That's why I'm so grateful that I've had the chance to stay on for a masters. I was going to say that it's given me the opportunity to come full circle, but actually, I find myself in the midst of an even better circle. Masters life began in uncertainty, and I was anxious about coming back. There were a couple of scores to settle, chapters to close, and yet I couldn't imagine actually having to close them, or how my life would be once I had. But, in that funny way that things have of doing so, they just worked out. They worked out really well. 

Here I am, in my fifth year at Oxford, studying my two favourite subjects with those same professors who seem to have got nuttier over time. I'm privileged to be playing the sport I love again, with a team that isn't just made up of great people, but people who I can learn a great deal from. I'm finally learning Arabic again and reconnecting with my family, which makes my teacher's weekly insults to my Egyptian accent totally worth it. I've been working on fantastic projects with equally fantastic people, and even though I've lost friends, I've made new ones. At the end of the day though, I think that's what growing up is all about, isn't it? 

This year has taught me that life doesn't stop just because you can't keep up with it. Even if your head is down, and you're not seeing the world pass you by, it's still passing you by. Growing is about accepting the good and the bad, after all, one doesn't come without the other. You might struggle, but you will also succeed. You might get into a bad relationship, but you'll also move on from it. Your group of friends might get smaller, but it'll get more precious. You might lose someone, but you'll see them again. Without the bad, it's hard to appreciate the good, but when everything gets on top of you, and you want to panic, know that no one's expecting you to pick yourself up again straight away. You'll have as much time as you need to do it bit by bit, and with the help of those who love you, wherever they are.

If I'm asking for anything in 2015, it's for more peace, clarity, and love. Peace and clarity to make good choices and keep my head above water when things get tough - because they will, and love to continue to grow, and to help others do the same. Thinking about it now, I don't mind whether these come gifts come from happiness or sadness because, as a wise person once told me, God doesn't give the burden without the back to bear it.  

Happy New Year! Make it a good one...   

Perspective of a female gym-rat

All I want for Christmas is...nope, not you, I want quad-separation.

For almost three years now, I've been enjoying a long-awaited reunion and love-affair with the gym and the basketball court after a long time of being inactive. Basketball runs in my family, a grand total of 3 (there are at least 20 of us) don't play. In his day, my dad even played professionally and internationally, something which I'm extremely proud of him for. While I don't come anywhere near close in terms of skill, what I do take very seriously is my fitness. 

It seems that recently, in a world that loves big butts and cannot lie, fitness, and particularly squats, have become a new craze. Although in principle this sounds like a good thing, I can't help but feel torn when I see people jumping on board the squat train. I can't decide whether I'm in favour of it, taking it as a sign that popular culture is finally promoting the benefits of a healthy lifestyle, or whether I'm actually concerned that this is yet another manifestation of our tumultuous relationship with body image. 

The multitude of misconceptions and preoccupations associated with body image and how to sculpt the "perfect" one, can often get in the way of just being healthy and achieving your personal fitness goals. The typical response I get when I tell people I lift and use protein supplements is derogatory, derisive and will invariably be a comment along the lines of "oh, so you're trying to get dench?" followed by weird shoulder-shrugging, that I can only assume is intended to represent muscle gains. In fact, even at the gym, where I would least expect to be discouraged from lifting, I'm interrupted at least 3 times a day, and warned to workout differently lest my figure should change too much. 

If I were younger, and more worried about other people's opinions of my body and the way it should or shouldn't look, I think I'd have stopped going by now. Luckily, I'm proud of my body and the way it's developing as I train, and I wish everyone could feel the same. Over the last few years, and especially since I started weight-lifting, I've felt increasingly empowered, both physically and mentally. I've become fitter, stronger and have far more endurance, and it seems strange to me when people can't understand why I train the way I do. Contrary to common belief, my lifestyle doesn't make me any less feminine, or any less of a woman. Who said women can't be fit, tough and strong? I really dislike the fact that the labels we put on different body-types and workouts, put pressure on people to look and train a certain way. 

Whether you want to run, spin, dance, lift, box, play ball, all, or none of those, do it. Do whatever makes you feel your best, because at the end of the day no one else knows your body like you do, and no one else has the right to tell you what to do with it. 

Honestly? Yes I do want quad-separation, abs, and boulders for shoulders (although I doubt I'll be getting them at Christmas) and it's nobody's place to have a problem with that. So, hold the gestures, and the comments about "bulking" and "manliness," - they might be your excuses, but they're not mine.   

Introductions and the John Legend principle

By way of an introduction, I’m not really one for opening up to people. So it came as a surprise to me when I felt inspired to write a blog, but I was lucky enough to meet someone whose writing is personal but never oversharing or overbearing. I can’t promise the same quality, but I’d quite like to share some thoughts.

Recently, I learnt a very important lesson. Sadly, the most important lessons are also the most difficult ones, the ones it takes longest to accept. But, in the end, those are the lessons you have to learn for things to start getting better.  

My faith calls me to be kind, gracious and forgiving; to turn the other cheek, to let things go, to keep trying, to love others, and treat them how I wish to be treated. I am not good at it, but then neither are other people. Often it seems that those people are precisely the ones that we find ourselves making that extra effort with. I suppose in these situations it is only to be expected that at some point or another, it will all get thrown back in our face and twisted into something it was never intended to be. Yet whether we expect it or not, when it happens, it’s no less painful. Somehow, we even end up blaming ourselves, wondering whether it would have been different had we only tried harder, loved more. I doubt that it would.  

Whenever something like this happens I find myself feeling conflicted with my faith. If only there were some compromise between loving others and protecting yourself. There will always be those moments when we proclaim to whoever will listen that we won’t bother with people any more, won’t help them, won’t care about them. We might even do it for a while, but then something starts to feel wrong. Even if our efforts aren’t going to be appreciated, and we’re bound to get hurt all over again… well, that’s not the point is it?

When you love, you give, and I’ve learnt that unfortunately, you can’t control what you get in return. What you can control, is what you take out of what you’re given. You can take offense, hurt, rejection and pain, or you can take a lesson, strength, recovery and hope. Every experience teaches us how to move forward, how to grow, which ways to turn and which to avoid. After the hurt has faded, I try to take strength and peace in the knowledge that I will never be in the same position again, because I will not allow myself be treated like that again. And that doesn’t conflict with what my religion teaches; love others as you love yourself. Love yourself. It starts with you. Once you love yourself, you enable yourself to love others, and just as importantly, you enable them to love you. It's a bit like what John Legend says, give someone all of you, and they might give you all of them. Love is not a sign of weakness, but a sign of great, great strength.