It's one of those days...

I'll turn 32 this year. At the risk of sounding cliched, it feels old. Not so much in terms of age, though. It's just that, I've been on this planet for more than three decades. And when I put it like that, it seems like a really long time. A lot happens in just a year, and 30 years is, well, a very long time ago! And a lot has changed for me in these years....I've enjoyed my childhood, teens - maybe not so much.... achieved the usual milestones that one expects to - completing college, getting a job, falling in love, getting married, starting a family. In other words, my life has gone exactly as planned.

I didn't do the planning though. It, sort of, came with the manual.

So what's missing? Spontaneity I suppose. I haven't done anything crazy. Sure, I've had some good times with my friends when I was younger, shared lovely memories with family. But nothing out of the ordinary. Like take a solo trip, for instance. Or live by myself. Or just do something on a whim. I don't even know what is the 'crazy' that I want, it's so pathetic.

I'm missing passion. I'm afraid I'm not passionate about a thing! Not a thing! Not my work, which I loved at one point. I feel nothing. Or maybe it's that I've been told not to express my joy. Not in public at least, because 'it's so juvenile'.

Getting a new car? Yay! "Shush, what's so exciting about it, stop making a scene!"
Going for a holiday? "Do you know how much it's costing us?"
My best friend's visiting! "Big deal. Grow up!"
I love this song! Let's dance! "Are you mad! People can see you!"

I mean, seriously!

I love my daughter though, and I love seeing her grow up into this beautiful, smart, funny individual! I've devoted myself to her, and in a way, I'm happy to get a chance to be a child with her. I love getting excited when she gets excited. I know that's one moment that I won't be judged, when I can hide behind her joy. And I'm dreading the day when she won't need me, when I won't be her best friend anymore. Because that is the day I will feel truly alone, and find myself in unfamiliar territory. I hope I can make it through that.

Besides my child, I think I've become very detached from just about everything else. It doesn't matter to me if I lost touch with one of my best buds. It doesn't matter if someone in the family passed away. It doesn't bother me to see my mom cry. It's like I've turned into this cynical, sarcastic, short-tempered witch, who just doesn't give a damn about anyone else.

And I don't like her.

R.E.S.P.E.C.T.

Respect.

The biggest point of contention between men and women. The root of all arguments, quarrels, misunderstandings. It is a well known fact, and yet nothing has changed in all these decades.

Men do not respect women. Period. They can love them, appreciate them, even idolize them, but they do not respect them.

By respectful men I don't mean those who open the door for us or pull out the chair for us, or pay us a compliment. That's just good manners.

Respectful men need to respect a woman's thinking and appreciate the fact that it can be different from their own. Women can think, as opposed to what most men believe, or are led to believe.

Why is it that every desire or every ambition of a woman needs to be justified with a 'logical reasoning'? Basically, a good enough reason, that makes sense in a man's world. Why can't she want something because she feels like it? Why is she questioned at every choice, every decision she makes? Why do men decide whether women are deserving enough or not?

A man, on the other hand, is given the benefit of doubt, even if he commits a cardinal sin!

It is unfortunate, but the society we live in has forced us to demand respect, to fight for it, even if we have done everything in our capacity to earn it. It is a fight in the hope to build a better future for our daughters, and a more compassionate one for our sons. A hope for a world, not of men and women, but of humans. And so, it goes on.