In Limbo

It was a few years ago, in the gym. I was signing up and I had to fill in an application in Arabic, which I did-horribly. I saw the look on the man's face when I handed him the application-he was either thinking that I've just started to learn how to write or I'm just an incompetent idiot. I was a little of both. The reason is very simple really; I didn't and I still don’t write in Arabic enough.

Growing up how I did, words were never used to express thoughts and ideas; they were for mere communication. I look back and I see that I had a great childhood.. And I also look back and see how detached and mentally and verbally uninvolved I was in anything that was happening around me. I don't think I was ever asked the question “ what do you think?”- or maybe once.

Words never mattered in school either. Arabic lesson was always the hardest and most boring and English was synonymous to Shakespeare's abridged plays which we never really understood and a whole lot of dictations and copying from the book. I look back and my heart aches over the years of so-called education that were wasted. I look back and I want to show my younger self a flash forward , so that she can do more, and better. I know they say that it is never too late, but in this case it literally is.

I found words in America. I discovered how language is and should be used quite late in life. Not only was I reading and writing more than I ever had in my life , I was doing it in a language that wasn't my first. I've studied and used English at school since Kindergarten but there is nothing like living in an English-speaking country and going to a high school there and to be expected to have or develop the same level of language and language use as the native speakers. It was difficult.

Do you remember as kids we were taught how to make a third color when mixing two other colors together? Well, that's what happened with me. A little bit of Arabic and a little bit of English has now formed the language I use to “express” myself and “communicate” with the world around me. I walk in a room full of Egyptians, I feel instantly at home until I say something in Arabic that makes absolutely no sense, because I’d just translated it from English-because this is the language I was thinking in while speaking.

When I walk into a room full of English-speakers,I'm never really intimidated but I've given in to the fact that I'm going to say something hilariously translated from Arabic or incorrect because my mind doesn't think of concepts or ideas only in English.

Even worse, sometimes I think to myself that I should write something,its something that I really like doing and I should practice it more often. I feel the keyboard under my fingers,words are only a press away but ideas/concepts and words in English are almost always not even in arm's length. But have I ever thought about writing in Arabic? No. Because when I first started writing , it was in English

Two worlds don't really make a person a hybrid, they just make them incomplete. Whenever you try to add a piece from this world , you're only taking up space from where the other world would have fit. The goal of being complete is really a pledge to commit to one world only , and that, I cannot do.

A choice has to be made. Which side of you is more confident, is more appealing ? Which side of you would you rather have conspicuous to the world or even which side fits better in your current environment? You'll choose one,you'll enjoy your temporary self and something is going to come up and is going to make you think again. An identity seesaw will take place for as long as there hasn't been a decision to dispense with a side of you – that 'll probably end up the one forming who you truly are.