Divorce.
It's real, guys. Read the whole article below. Looking Past The 'Happily Ever After' Dream By Amal Ghazali There are three main things that I realised are real as I approached the age of thirty – permanent eye bags, the fact that nobody really knows exactly how taxes work, and divorce. Yes, divorce is real guys. And it’s not just something you see happening a lot on E! News. It’s one of those occurrences that you don’t think will ever happen to yourself or your loved ones when you were younger, and now you realise it can actually happen to anyone. It was just a usual day at my office when I heard the news that a couple I knew, both of whom were my friends, were filing for divorce after four years of marriage. The idea of divorcing wasn’t exactly a shock to me anymore by then. I am in the stage of my life where most of my friends have been married for a few years, and this means that the honeymoon phase has passed and the whole candied idea of marriage being a field of flowers filled with rainbows and passions askew are now shattered by the truth – that relationships are hard work and is not always easy. The emergence of this truth affected people I knew in many ways. Some grew stronger, while the rest, unfortunately, dissolved into painful separations. Financial hiccups, baby vomit, loss of affection, his-pants-are-always-on-the-floor, a third person – I began to learn that there are so many reasons why marriages end up in flames. But when I heard about this specific couple calling it quits, I was flabbergasted. I travelled with them once and from what I could tell they were fun, kind and happy people. Wasn’t that enough? The Myth And Truth About Divorce This is the part where I first and foremost tell you that my wisdom on marriages is about the size of a green pea. I have never been married and I would not claim to have a first-hand idea of what life is like on that other side. What I can narrate to you is what I have learned from neutral observations, and how my views on it have changed from my early twenties to current time. I came from a relatively stable background and divorce was almost unheard of within my extended family or friends. I learned a lot about them through watching Western TV, where separations always seem to occur on the characters that deserve it. I’m talking abusive husbands, the mafia, people having affairs galore or any other of those extreme reasons. It seemed like a foreign concept, a different world if you will, that I couldn’t relate to at all. My naivety at the time also assured me that divorce would only happen to bad people. Normal, regular people like us? We’ll find someone, fall in love and be happy forever. Right? Feeling distressed about the news I’ve just heard, I talked to a colleague to try and resolve my confusion over it all. I mean, if even good people don’t stand a chance, aren’t we all doomed? As a girl yet to step into the world of marital union, all of these news of people getting divorced or even people complaining that they are in unhappy relationships spooked me. I want the chase-you-at-the-airport happiness I see in movies! I don’t want to hear stories about you leaving your wife for a younger model because she ‘let herself go’, sir. As we discussed it through, my married colleague and I concluded that marriage, like a lot of other things in life, doesn’t always surpass our expectations on how we want them to be, especially if these expectations were designed by our younger, less-wise selves. Some people work so hard to keep their marriage together but to no avail. Some people had known each other for years before tying the knot, but only lasted a while in the union. Some people get married without knowing each other at all, and theirs last a lifetime. Some people fall apart and then fall back together. Be A Positive Drive Like life itself, each relationship is different, and therefore what works and what doesn’t is unique in their own special ways. Unfortunately, as a society I would easily note that we are sometimes harsh and judgemental towards people going through these difficult times. It is true that the breakup of a family isn’t something we should normalise or encourage, but it is also true that some of us prefer the sizzling gossips and surficial judgement rather than lending a helping hand or providing the right support. Like my friends who were going their separate ways, it was easy to establish the difference between the group who was just there to join the back talks and the group who was genuinely concerned about them coping through as peacefully as possible. I suppose that in the end, divorce truly is real and a harsh reality at that. We take risks in life, including risks in loving others, and sometimes despite our hopes they end up in the sad end of the stick. Part of growing up for me is learning that essentially, we all want to be happy, and through the process of discovering new things and making mistakes, some bumps along the road of relationships are bound to happen. However, what we can always do as a community is channel productive support to our loved ones who are going through these painful dissolutions, and abstain from indulging in abrasive judgment and taboo generalisation. Hopefully, we can all make a good difference in each other’s lives and eventually assist in harnessing better, more positive relationships. This week I wrote about my trip to the local animal shelter. And guys, I can't stress this enough - if you're thinking about getting a pet, please adopt instead of buying.
There are so many crazy kinds of cute at the animal shelter, I promise! Furry Therapy By Amal Ghazali I’ve had pets all through my childhood. My Mom loves cats, so we’ve always had cats around the house. There was even a point when we had seven cats at one time, and it started to feel like we were running a cat farming center. Then we had a bird, but my brother, a toddler at the time, took it out of the cage and stepped on it. That was the end of our pet bird era. We also had tortoises, but they needed cleaning too often. We had fish too, but they ended up dying one by one and down the toilet they went. There was a sugar glider that died due to a mystery cause, and when we buried it my brother was so sad he placed a Ben 10 figurine in the grave so that it will never get lonely. And of course, there was also a pet duck that ended up becoming our neighbor’s meal. But that’s a story for another day. Re-Igniting a Lost Love As an adult I have never had pets. I bought a cactus and it died in three days, so suffice to say I have no talent in taking care of another living thing, hence the decision to not have a pet. And if my childhood animal-caring experience had taught me anything, it is that sooner or later they will all die and I will have to go through the anguish of losing something I am emotionally attached to. When animals die it is a strange feeling of sadness. You remember how innocent they are and how joyfully sincere they are in wanting your affection, and so when they are gone it’s another emotional baggage to bear. I didn’t want that anymore. So for the likes of me, people who love animals but for some reason are not able to care for them at home, there are other alternatives to obtain this therapy. If you’re an animal lover you’ll probably understand what I’m talking about. After all, research had shown that people who bond with animals are a lot less stressful and lead healthier lives. Although it’s great to vent to another human being about bad traffic or a colleague at the office who is being a witch, there is great comfort in indulging in some time with a pet whose life concepts are a lot simpler – eating, playing, napping or cuddling. So after doing some background research, my friends and I decided to pay a visit to an animal shelter nearby. I have actually never been to one before, and in my mind I had painted a picture of what it might look like; a dark dungeon with a permanent smell of poop, with floor-to-ceiling metal cages filled with cats and dogs with dull fur and rabies. In fact, it was quite the contrary. I dare to go on and say that the place looks like it was fit to be an animal sanctuary for suicidal people. First of all, it was such a happy place. The area was large an open, the staff were warm and friendly and obviously loved all the animals they were caring for. All the cats and dogs were well-fed, clean and well-behaved, and there were trees, grass and murals on the walls. I was also surprised to see so many volunteers. There were people volunteering to play with the cats and take the dogs out for walks. One of the staff at the place, Ariff, also told me that all the animals were trained, vaccinated and neutered. The whole place was far from the abandoned nightmare I had in my mind. Selfless Love Is The Best Therapy During my visit we met a family who was there to adopt two cats. I was informed that the shelter sees up to twelve dog adoptions and twenty cat adoptions each month, which is a pretty good rate. It seems that there are a lot of people out there willing to share a home with these lovable, furry creatures. Sometimes, what your mind needs is a break from constantly calculating what your end of a bargain is. That is to say that sometimes, giving love instead of expecting anything in return is the best kind of relief you need. Some people find it through doing charities for the less privileged, and some people find it through connecting with other living things in this world, such as animals. It was a day well-spent at the animal shelter. Although from the outside it seemed like I was doing the animals a favor by investing some time and affection for these homeless strays, but in truth it was the furry friends that made me come home a lot happier and in better spirits after it all. If you’re interested in volunteering or even adopting a pet, visit www.spca.org.my for details. July and August had been rather hectic, but of course that did not stop me from my usual musings in NST! As always, each month I write one column on relationships, and another on health. For August, here's what I wrote about: 1. Relationships - "Thank, But No Thanks" which is a narration on an observation of a fellow male friend making a move on somebody he fancied, and how this is a reflection of pursuing things out of our comfort zones. 2. Health - "In Hot Water" relives an experience to a Hot Water Springs, and the sentiment it has on our society. Here's the link for the second column! https://www.nst.com.my/lifestyle/heal/2017/08/272587/amal-muses-hot-water In case you missed my column from two weeks ago, "Thanks, But No Thanks", you can read it too, at the link below.
https://www.nst.com.my/lifestyle/heal/2017/08/265371/amal-muses-thanks-no-thanks This week's column is pretty self-explanatory through its title ;)
I've posted the entire column below! PS: Everytime I say I was going to change my profile picture to something less Colgate-ish, I forget. Good Lord. Love In Three Decades By Amal Ghazali It is my birthday month. This year is a huge numerical milestone for me, and as soon as that sunk in I had an immediate panic attack. Already? Where have the years gone? Why don’t I feel wise at all? Should I smile less to make sure I don’t have wrinkles? And most importantly, what have I learned? Well, we could go on all day on the subject of lessons, but this time I am compelled to specifically discuss the lessons on love and relationships, a summary of what the past decade has taught me. I began my third decade like any average twenty year-old. I was from an all-girls boarding school and so college was a culture shock – look at those boys! I had no idea what I was doing, what I wanted or what it was all for. All I knew was that dates got me free food, free movie tickets (chivalry was not dead yet) and free adoration. When you have a minimal sense of who you are as a person and what you want in life, be sure to expect your relationships to be doomed into oblivion as well. Ten Years’ Worth of Lessons Over the years life occurred in a way that completely shifted and changed me from that unsure, indecisive and hormonal twenty year old into someone else. Recently I was in a car with a friend, talking about life and relationships. Suddenly, she turned to me and said, “You know, you sound so different than how you used to think five years ago.” But of course. Life inflicts gradual changes in you through experiences, and there is no denying that the past ten years have been nothing short of a great series of lessons for me. That boring date I had with the most boring guy on earth taught me a thing or two about chemistry. That night I went for a swim in the sea with friends at 3 a.m., ending at the hospital emergency room 2 hours later, taught me the difference between fun and stupidity (surprise! Sorry Mom). That time I was in love, and then out of love, taught me a truth about men – that like me, they too are flawed but trying their best. Forgiveness is imperative in love. But through loving and being around others, perhaps the biggest lesson I have learned is about loving myself. This sounds like some hokey pokey Hallmark greeting card material, but it’s true. Is it worth changing yourself for others? If so, to what extent? I have realised that there are things I could never do or a version I could never become, just for the sake of not wanting to be alone. I understood when it’s time to let go, or when it’s time to be brave so that someday, I will never have any regrets. I learned that in the end, people will always judge you on how you conduct your life, so it is pointless to make decisions driven by the anxiety of worrying what others will think about you. Ten years ago I was also doing it wrong in so many ways. I believed that physical beauty is the only key to guarantee consistent affection, so I concentrated more on that and less on other types of personal development. I certainly don’t think so any more. Granted, looks can attract people, but it certainly won’t keep them around for the right reasons. If that beauty is all you have to offer to make people love you, then you should be really, really concerned. Age, A Blessing In Disguise There is always this association to fear when it comes to ageing. There is the fear of losing youth, of having less time to take that Eurotrip we always wanted to do but never did, and of never quite achieving the dreamy milestones we had for ourselves when we first started adulthood. But the truth is, growing up is a beautiful, beautiful thing. There is a mass difference between the wisdom you know now and what little you knew then. Most of us are much happier in our bodies today than we were ten years ago. We now know what works and what doesn’t (exhibit A: my denim overalls from 2007). We’re not naïve anymore, which allows us to make better choices in friends, decisions and partners. Our self-worth is better, the need to live a fulfilling life based on our terms more important than say, worrying what others think. And finally, growing up would teach us the most important thing about love – that is wherever we are, whoever we are with at whatever point in our lives, we need to take care of our own selves first instead of relying on others. No one in this world can do a better job at loving us than ourselves. This week on 'Amal Muses', I discuss the pressures of being skinny (you know it happens to almost every red-blooded gal). You can read the whole column below! PS: I should really think twice about publishing a pasty, makeup-less picture of myself in the papers next time LOL AMAL MUSES: The Thin Dream By Amal Ghazali Let’s face it. Every woman, at some point in their lives, wished they were thin or thinner than they already were. No matter how embracing you are of your own figure, there will be a time when you come across a poster of Megan Fox and begin to daydream about a day where your bum does not resemble a deflating beach ball. We live in a material world where physical appearance matters. And whether we like it or not, physical appearance in this context usually means a thinner, leaner and less pudgy you. I can’t speak for every woman, but I can certainly reflect on my own experiences as a young woman in an era of a specifically celebrated body type. Growing up most of my friends were females, and body image issues were often a theme in our discussions. Part of emerging into adulthood also meant blossoming physically, with hormones askew and pressures to idolise a media-approved figure skyrocketing. Today it is not any less daunting, as declining metabolism, motherhood and such becomes emerging limitations. It Started With A Boy, Of Course But of course it started with the appealing idea of gaining attention from a boy. I came from an all girls’ school, which meant high school years free of being body conscious for the sake of the opposite sex. My first glimpse of the underlying teenage esteem issues was when a girl I shared a dormitory with forced herself to throw up almost every night after dinner. She had a boyfriend at the time and the desired shape amongst her social circle was not curvy. Then I went to college and began to see boys - a lot of them too. With that came the sudden realisation of male adoration, and with that adoration came a consciousness to look worth adoring. As a student I lived with other girls from the same college, and thus began the antics of comparing ourselves with others, trying out fads and diets, introducing ourselves to various trendy exercise regimes and experimenting with commercial products apparently guaranteed to give you waistlines smaller than Malik Noor’s arm. I had a housemate who tried the Herbalife supplement, but the idea of replacing two meals a day for a liquid shake gave me shivers. I decided to opt for an Atkins diet instead, surviving for only three and a half days. Not eating any carbs made me feel so lethargic that I hallucinated about crawling towards the fridge in the middle of the night. A friend decided that perhaps weed could make you lose weight, but the concept did not seem sustainable (or legal). I had a stint of not eating rice at all, and let me tell you, asking a Malaysian girl to not eat rice is almost suicidal. And then as employment came in, so did the pay check that subtly urged us to shift our views towards purchasable aids to make us smaller. There was a stint of a new-age corset with some strange infra-red technology, promising to make you lose weight effortlessly just by putting them on. There were those magical ‘drinks’ that could allegedly burn fat from the inside, a vibrating machine that could apparently shake the calories out of you, and even expensive massages to tone your way into a Jessica Alba. The list is endless. I was either a witness or a participant of most of these things, and I began to realise that the circle was never ending. We were complaining about wanting to be thin when we were girls, and we are still doing that same exact thing twenty years later. It Is Normal To Want To Be Thin In general, a balanced body weight is of course a preliminary indicator of a healthy body. Aesthetically, the common culture would assess that the slimmer shape is more desirable. It makes me wince to say that, but that’s the truth of what you see on magazines and TV. Therefore, it makes a lot of sense why most of us yearn to have a thinner physique. But against these dreams is also the question of compromising our actual health. We take so-called mysterious ‘supplements’, put on strange devices and obsess over our bodies to the point that it tampers with our self-esteems. Ironically, our mental and physical state are declining as we attempt to appear thinner. What a bizarre contradiction. For those who didn't get the chance to read my column earlier in May (above), you can do so by going to the link below.
https://www.nst.com.my/lifestyle/heal/2017/05/239620/amal-muses-third-wheel Enjoy reading! Hi guys!
This week in 'Amal Muses' I talk about Yoga, but not just about back-bending, of course! No online publication for this one, but read below for the whole text. Enjoy! Bending Backwards in Competition By Amal Ghazali When it comes to Yoga, most of the stories you would hear is about how someone was going on a downward spiral emotionally and physically, and one day they came across a beacon of light that was Yoga, and now they meditate everyday and have achieved upmost bliss and Nirvana where they can quiet the mind and hear imaginary waterfalls somewhere in the distance, while standing upside down. This is not one of those stories. My relationship with Yoga began like this; there was a free class in my University, I went for it because I couldn’t afford a gym membership and was bored, kind of liked it, and the rest was history. Over the years I had an on/off relationship with Yoga. I am a mediocre student, which means what I lack in flexibility I make up with a lot of giggling during an otherwise quiet class, and I needed to be forced to push myself further. Recently I was intrigued to try out a slightly different type of Yoga class called Mysore Yoga. Historically, it is a type of Yoga practice originating from a place called Mysore, India. Symbolically, the name basically hints at what will happen to you the next day – sore all over. The Lesson Begins The class started at 7 a.m. which was as early as when I get up to go to work. The concept of the class was rather different than what I was used to. For two hours, I would be doing my poses alone, unlike the usual class where everyone follows what the instructor does. The point was that I would be doing Yoga according to my own pace, instead of being slowed down by other beginners or rushed up by more advanced students. My instructor’s name was Freda, a fine exotic-looking lady with lean muscles and ballerina limbs that made me feel like a soggy, over-boiled sausage just standing next to her. The first fifteen minutes were great. They were poses I was used to, and I began to feel slightly cocky with the fact that I could do them all rather easily. I checked myself out in the studio’s mirror, looking poised and firm in my Downward Dog pose. I glanced to my side and saw another girl turning her body into a round-shaped human ball, which was then rolled around by Freda. Wait. What? Am I expected to do that too? That looked… impossible. My initial confidence immediately simmered down. The next hour was a blur of muscle quivers and sweat dripping down my face. Freda seemed like a disguised, soft spoken angel who was determined to turn me into a human pretzel. Who knew I could put my legs there? Even my legs were surprised. Why was my right arm on my left side? Lord knows, but there I was. The minute I saw another girl do a strange pelvic twist, I got nervous. I was absolutely confident I could not pull that off. I saw Frieda walk slowly towards my direction. Please, God, not me. I began to wish that she was going to call some other girl to do it. Please don’t look at me. She looked right at me. “Alright Amal,” she said, her voice so soothing that I began to wonder if she was also a part-time shrink. “Next, do the Shashawasanapaka pose.” Or at least I think that was what she said. The names of these poses are extremely bizarre. The next day, I spent my Sunday on the couch with ice on my bum. It’s A Lot Like Life Sure, there are all those well-known obvious benefits of Yoga. It increases your muscle strength and tones them, which in turns protects them from easy injury. For some people, it even teaches them how to calm the nerves, and God knows we need that these days. But that Mysore class I went to also taught me something else. By the end of the session I found out that most of the other students were instructors themselves, which explained their much superior capabilities compared to mine. Although being amongst them made me push myself that much harder, it also brought into question the matter of comparing oneself to others. Like a lot of other things in life, we tend to sometimes look to the sides and become consumed with being at par with other people. Perhaps I was doing well by my own standards, but watching that other girl put her head under her legs gave me unnecessary pressure that perhaps what I was doing was not good enough. And so in Yoga, as well as in life, it is pointless to measure yourself against others, and you should always focus on improving yourself by your own personal standards. Annnndddd the second article for the column is here! As I’ve mentioned previously, I’ll be alternating between Relationships and Health. So this time, it’s a piece about the latter, though not any less fun. The feeling of seeing the words on print does not get old! This morning I got to work earlier to compete with the non-existent crowd lining up to buy the paper. Yes, if there is one thing this new job has taught me, it is that there is an actual store that sells newspapers just steps away from my office. Who knew??? Amazing. What a revelation. As usual, you can click on the link below to read it, or Google “Amal Ghazali NST” to check out my other work under this same column. http://www1.nst.com.my/news/2017/03/222986/gruelling-it-gwyneth I would also love to hear what you’d like to read about for my next possible articles! It could be anything from relationships to health to Megan Fox. Have fun reading! PS: I know, I know. That profile picture looks odd. I haven't had time to replace it with a new one! No, that’s not my new last name (although admittedly, it does sound pretty hip for a last name).
So happy to announce that I would be writing for New Straits Times! Blogging has always been such a blast. I love how I am able to be transparent and free to write about everything under the sun, and channelling good energy through words has always been such therapy. Writing a column for NST also brings the same joy, but it will be more specified – I will be discussing subjects under the flagship of Women's Relationships and Health, both of course shall be conveyed in a fun way that would hopefully be as entertaining as it is meaningful. I thought long and hard about what I should call the column. Eventually I narrowed it down to 3 options;
Eventually, I came about with ‘Amal Muses’. Why? A rather simple explanation – I am almost always musing over things. Simple and to the point. And so the first article came out and I am over the moon! I felt super proud and grateful to see it, kind of like when I first made a soufflé and it came out almost perfect. Or that time when I actually understood what my real estate agent was talking about when she was explaining loans. But better. If you don’t have the paper, you can always read them online. Just Google ‘Amal Muses’ and take the first link on the list. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I did writing them! |
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