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| "Moorish Girl Lying on a Couch" Rabat Morocco by Edwin Lord Weeks |
I am infatuated with the thought of maintaining my own persona of the strong intelligent female. I am also infatuated with the thought of travelling to Morocco. Interesting conundrum. For the last few years I have wanted to take an extended holiday there. I've read history books, travel guides, fiction, and most recently Ms. Sheikh's memoir, set, for the most part in that mysterious land I have so often fantasized about.
In this post, I am only going to speak of Ms. Sheikh's tale of her second marriage, I will not forray into the complexities of the third. Go on, get out there and buy the book!!!
In this post, I am only going to speak of Ms. Sheikh's tale of her second marriage, I will not forray into the complexities of the third. Go on, get out there and buy the book!!!
Donna Bailey Nurse reviewed Sheikh's book in the The Globe and Mail as one of two "..captivating memoirs". Captivating indeed!
The book takes us through the labyrinth of Sheikh's romantic life. Beginning at the end of her first marriage, and, straight away into her second. Red flag. One very wise, very Jack Daniels soaked friend of mine gave me some sage advice when I separated from my husband. He said, "You think you're ready for another relationship now, but you need at least three years to heal yourself before you'll be any good to anyone."
I thought he was crazy. But, as it turns out, he was right. I needed that time to regroup, get intimate with the bruises and scrapes that happened along the road at the end of my marriage, and heal enough to have the energy to give to someone else in a relationship.
Bruises and scrapes and contemplative healing be damned. Ms. Sheikh headed straight into a head over heels relationship with whom would very shortly become her second husband. Despite the overuse of extravagant adjectives, Ms. Sheikh describes a seemingly wonderful relationship. Her husband adored her, doted on her, was more than competent as a provider, sender of flowers and devoted, satisfying lover. (Any man reading this, please note the above three qualities - and oh yes, the man was intelligent too - in other words, she could roll over and talk to him after their fantastical love making sessions.)
As she paints the picture of her honeymoon with hubby numero two, there are hints of power and control issues. It was his choice of guide, his insistence on keeping the same guide despite her expressed discomfort and swarthy secrets that she needn't worry her pretty little silent head over. That kind of thing. Before the end of their honeymoon, I was disgusted at her submissiveness. Although her husband cares for her, it is in a way that leads to her acquiescence, she yeilds to his needs and agenda and does not have her own. Is this imposed dominance in a sneaky subversive way, or is this what we do in relationships - bend to please our beloved?
But what's submissive? What works and what doesn't? From the outside looking in, and from an ever-expanding perception of my own relationships, what is this dance of self and togetherness? It certainly is not black and white. Like arguing religion infused politics, arguing structure in a love relationship is futile. Maintaining a unique identity while etching out the identity of the couple is interesting to say the least.
More and more the lines cross, instead of being drawn with firm boundaries. Navigating the ever-changing web of these uniquely woven lines seems to be the art of love relationships. On page 123 of her book, when the author finally finds her missing ex-husband who has lied about a long-standing psychiatric disorder, and left her destitute, she says this of rescuing him, " This is a choice I make with full consciousness."
Over a long chat, some diet soda and a plate of nachos, one of my very intelligent girlfriends and I discussed our romantic relationships. We're educated, independent, and also struggle with maintaining our strong, independent selves while loving the men in our lives.
We too have made our choices with full consciousness. Just not full logic, and instead, a heaping amount of emotion. Does this make us weak, or does this make us brave women who hold the world together with that taboo (within the secret sisterhood of strong, independent women) glue of loving and giving?
A few years ago, I came across a quote that I am reminded of time and time again when I think of relationship issues. Not only romantic love, but the relationships we hold most dearly; close family and friends. That saying is; "The truth can be seen from many doorways". What is felt by one person is translated differently by the other. It's respecting how the other feels and treating that emotion with honour and respect that is a key to one of those many doorways.
But that's the rub isn't it? Being able to practice that loving and honouring of your partner's emotion when you have your own feelings and ego at stake? I don't think I'm alone when I say I'm unsure sometimes where loving ends and losing yourself begins? Yep, not so good at navigating that tightrope when it comes to voicing what I need and going over the top just slightly. I am by the way, quite fabulous at "over-the-top".
Although I just wanted to pull the author out of her own life as I read her tale of three marriages, who is to say that she was ever wrong? How can I judge another woman when I struggle with my own identity in relationship? Let's face it ladies and gentleman - we all struggle with this.
This could not have been easy putting her life out there on the shelf. Granted, like every other writer, including my beloved Mr. Leonard Cohen, Ms. Sheikh likely needed the money, what with having a disasterous third marriage to a man who cannot arguably be described as anything else but a underdeveloped-selfish-flap-of-wasted-skin.
Granted financial need likely played a part in making the decision to publish the book, we can use this narrative as a mirror to our own selves. I am deeply thankful to Ms. Sheikh for sharing. There is always value in witnessing someone else's story.
The book takes us through the labyrinth of Sheikh's romantic life. Beginning at the end of her first marriage, and, straight away into her second. Red flag. One very wise, very Jack Daniels soaked friend of mine gave me some sage advice when I separated from my husband. He said, "You think you're ready for another relationship now, but you need at least three years to heal yourself before you'll be any good to anyone."
I thought he was crazy. But, as it turns out, he was right. I needed that time to regroup, get intimate with the bruises and scrapes that happened along the road at the end of my marriage, and heal enough to have the energy to give to someone else in a relationship.
Bruises and scrapes and contemplative healing be damned. Ms. Sheikh headed straight into a head over heels relationship with whom would very shortly become her second husband. Despite the overuse of extravagant adjectives, Ms. Sheikh describes a seemingly wonderful relationship. Her husband adored her, doted on her, was more than competent as a provider, sender of flowers and devoted, satisfying lover. (Any man reading this, please note the above three qualities - and oh yes, the man was intelligent too - in other words, she could roll over and talk to him after their fantastical love making sessions.)
As she paints the picture of her honeymoon with hubby numero two, there are hints of power and control issues. It was his choice of guide, his insistence on keeping the same guide despite her expressed discomfort and swarthy secrets that she needn't worry her pretty little silent head over. That kind of thing. Before the end of their honeymoon, I was disgusted at her submissiveness. Although her husband cares for her, it is in a way that leads to her acquiescence, she yeilds to his needs and agenda and does not have her own. Is this imposed dominance in a sneaky subversive way, or is this what we do in relationships - bend to please our beloved?
But what's submissive? What works and what doesn't? From the outside looking in, and from an ever-expanding perception of my own relationships, what is this dance of self and togetherness? It certainly is not black and white. Like arguing religion infused politics, arguing structure in a love relationship is futile. Maintaining a unique identity while etching out the identity of the couple is interesting to say the least.
More and more the lines cross, instead of being drawn with firm boundaries. Navigating the ever-changing web of these uniquely woven lines seems to be the art of love relationships. On page 123 of her book, when the author finally finds her missing ex-husband who has lied about a long-standing psychiatric disorder, and left her destitute, she says this of rescuing him, " This is a choice I make with full consciousness."
Over a long chat, some diet soda and a plate of nachos, one of my very intelligent girlfriends and I discussed our romantic relationships. We're educated, independent, and also struggle with maintaining our strong, independent selves while loving the men in our lives.
We too have made our choices with full consciousness. Just not full logic, and instead, a heaping amount of emotion. Does this make us weak, or does this make us brave women who hold the world together with that taboo (within the secret sisterhood of strong, independent women) glue of loving and giving?
A few years ago, I came across a quote that I am reminded of time and time again when I think of relationship issues. Not only romantic love, but the relationships we hold most dearly; close family and friends. That saying is; "The truth can be seen from many doorways". What is felt by one person is translated differently by the other. It's respecting how the other feels and treating that emotion with honour and respect that is a key to one of those many doorways.
But that's the rub isn't it? Being able to practice that loving and honouring of your partner's emotion when you have your own feelings and ego at stake? I don't think I'm alone when I say I'm unsure sometimes where loving ends and losing yourself begins? Yep, not so good at navigating that tightrope when it comes to voicing what I need and going over the top just slightly. I am by the way, quite fabulous at "over-the-top".
Although I just wanted to pull the author out of her own life as I read her tale of three marriages, who is to say that she was ever wrong? How can I judge another woman when I struggle with my own identity in relationship? Let's face it ladies and gentleman - we all struggle with this.
This could not have been easy putting her life out there on the shelf. Granted, like every other writer, including my beloved Mr. Leonard Cohen, Ms. Sheikh likely needed the money, what with having a disasterous third marriage to a man who cannot arguably be described as anything else but a underdeveloped-selfish-flap-of-wasted-skin.
Granted financial need likely played a part in making the decision to publish the book, we can use this narrative as a mirror to our own selves. I am deeply thankful to Ms. Sheikh for sharing. There is always value in witnessing someone else's story.
After all, perhaps I was the weak, ignorant female, having picked up Ms. Sheikh's book with the hope of hearing a tale of a "successful" romance? A tale of a woman finding true love of mutual respect and intellect in the most unlikely of places.
We need to continue to share our stories; not just the perfectly baked cake and romantic-weekends-away stories, but stories of our heart - the trials and tribulations we experience as women. It is in this deep, dark muck that we will find the wisdom to grow.
We need to continue to share our stories; not just the perfectly baked cake and romantic-weekends-away stories, but stories of our heart - the trials and tribulations we experience as women. It is in this deep, dark muck that we will find the wisdom to grow.
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