Interesting piece by a Syrian woman blogger who is part of the resistance in Syria.
What's Personal When You're Syrian?
Translation posted 14 October 2015 19:36 GMT
“They wanted to deny families the right to hate a regime that has killed, jailed and kidnapped their children.” A scene in Salaheddin, Aleppo, Syria. PHOTO: Freedom House (CC BY 2.0).
This post is part of a special series of articles by blogger and activist Marcell Shehwaro, describing the realities of life in Syria during the ongoing armed conflict between forces loyal to the current regime, and those seeking to oust it.
I see my psychotherapist on a weekly basis, without any of the feelings of shame widespread in our society regarding this practice. But I have a barrel of guilt inside me that is wearing away what is left of the love of life in my heart.
Wednesday at noon is the time I steal away from work to talk about almost everything in life. At the end of the session, the psychotherapist tells me: “But you don't talk about anything personal.” And I am taken by surprise, overtaken by the silly desire always to appear that I am right, or gain the upper hand in any argument (as a close friend tells me I always do), to show my therapist that he is wrong.
I fail!
I am not sure exactly what constitutes “personal” and “public” in a Syrian's normal existence. My friends are the friends of resistance—our lives are intertwined as a result of prison and escape and the memory of our martyred friend. The only person left in my family that I am in touch with is my sister, who was forced to be displaced for security reasons related to me. Her displacement is part of the Syrian hemorrhage to the rest of the world.
My work is a continuation of the coordination for the revolution.
And even my attire reflects my gender in meetings in which I betray my right, as a woman, to appear more serious according to general society norms. Or perhaps it is the opposite: a reflection of my freedom in the face of inexcusable interference in women's privacy.
Continue reading at:
What’s Personal When You’re Syrian? · Global Voices
What's Personal When You're Syrian?
Translation posted 14 October 2015 19:36 GMT
“They wanted to deny families the right to hate a regime that has killed, jailed and kidnapped their children.” A scene in Salaheddin, Aleppo, Syria. PHOTO: Freedom House (CC BY 2.0).
This post is part of a special series of articles by blogger and activist Marcell Shehwaro, describing the realities of life in Syria during the ongoing armed conflict between forces loyal to the current regime, and those seeking to oust it.
I see my psychotherapist on a weekly basis, without any of the feelings of shame widespread in our society regarding this practice. But I have a barrel of guilt inside me that is wearing away what is left of the love of life in my heart.
Wednesday at noon is the time I steal away from work to talk about almost everything in life. At the end of the session, the psychotherapist tells me: “But you don't talk about anything personal.” And I am taken by surprise, overtaken by the silly desire always to appear that I am right, or gain the upper hand in any argument (as a close friend tells me I always do), to show my therapist that he is wrong.
I fail!
I am not sure exactly what constitutes “personal” and “public” in a Syrian's normal existence. My friends are the friends of resistance—our lives are intertwined as a result of prison and escape and the memory of our martyred friend. The only person left in my family that I am in touch with is my sister, who was forced to be displaced for security reasons related to me. Her displacement is part of the Syrian hemorrhage to the rest of the world.
My work is a continuation of the coordination for the revolution.
And even my attire reflects my gender in meetings in which I betray my right, as a woman, to appear more serious according to general society norms. Or perhaps it is the opposite: a reflection of my freedom in the face of inexcusable interference in women's privacy.
Continue reading at:
What’s Personal When You’re Syrian? · Global Voices
