5 years later.
I graduated to the fashion school in New York. I got the best results. I was ready to become a fashion designer or to work in a fashion couture house or magazine.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Friday, May 8, 2009
Episod 6: Back to school
The 2 weeks I got off finished very quickly. Just the right time for me to change the way I looked. I went to the hairdresser, cut my hair and totally changed the colours of my hair. I decided to have a beautiful red colour. Besides, I changed all my clothes. Mom had the great idea to bring me to one of her client Martha who was a personnal coach and a specialist in physical image,a big fan of Mum's shop. She spend a lot of time in explaning to me what I could wear and what I could not. She explained to me the importance of the colours and the patterns of my clothes. She gave me a list of the adresses of the shops in which I could find the clothes that suited me the most. Then I did a lot of shopping with mom. That was great. She spent a lot of money but she kept repeating me that I was her unique daughter and that she would spent everything on me. I bought trendy tuniques, dresses, trousers and shoes. All size 48. Martha taught to put some light wake up with some kohl on my eye and some mascara, that is, according to her the secret of the woman beauty.
The day I went back to school, I dressed up with a colourful tunique, some black tights and high shoes. I put some kohl and mascara, brush my hair quickly. I was ready to go back to school.
When I entered on the main corridor of the school, every one started looking at me from my feet to my head. Even some people said to me hello whereas they never talked to me. The boys who where looking at me, were looking with different eyes as if I was beautiful. For the first time in my life, I felt pretty and sensual. I went to get my books from my locker and then when I closed the door, he was there. John was next to me. This time I did not feel shy, I looked at his eyes, he became shy.
-Hi Sarah, you are back!
-Yes indeed.
-I just wanted to apologize for having been stupid with you.
-It's all forgotten now, I said in ironic way.
-I was wondering if we can one day maybe have a drink or something.
I looked at him.
-I don't think so. I accept your apologies but I want to do nothing with you. I even do not work with you and I do not want to see your face. You better go have a drink with Jenny. See you later.
I left him. He stayed at his place without moving. I was walking with a big smile on my face. I was happy. I felt better with myself. Ready to carry on my life.
The day I went back to school, I dressed up with a colourful tunique, some black tights and high shoes. I put some kohl and mascara, brush my hair quickly. I was ready to go back to school.
When I entered on the main corridor of the school, every one started looking at me from my feet to my head. Even some people said to me hello whereas they never talked to me. The boys who where looking at me, were looking with different eyes as if I was beautiful. For the first time in my life, I felt pretty and sensual. I went to get my books from my locker and then when I closed the door, he was there. John was next to me. This time I did not feel shy, I looked at his eyes, he became shy.
-Hi Sarah, you are back!
-Yes indeed.
-I just wanted to apologize for having been stupid with you.
-It's all forgotten now, I said in ironic way.
-I was wondering if we can one day maybe have a drink or something.
I looked at him.
-I don't think so. I accept your apologies but I want to do nothing with you. I even do not work with you and I do not want to see your face. You better go have a drink with Jenny. See you later.
I left him. He stayed at his place without moving. I was walking with a big smile on my face. I was happy. I felt better with myself. Ready to carry on my life.
Episod 5: Big Break
The slap I gave to Jamie cost me 2 weeks off from the school. Even if the headteacher knew I was an excellent student, he could'nt do anything after my violence period. Moreover, Jenny's parents visited him every single day to see how he will punish me. I finally got 2 weeks off but it was not obviously enough for Jenny's family. But it was enough for me to have a big break. During these 2 weeks, my father told me a long, very long speech about violence, that it does not help....blablabal...And when he saw I was listening to him very carefully, he ask him to promise to not do it again. I promised but I was not sure if I could keep this promise, but I promised.
When you have 2 weeks off in front of you, you do not know what to do. I started to do my planning. Of course I was punished but I had to use this extra time efficiently to build something. Instead of sleeping late on the mornings and the nights, I decided to wake up and sleep early. I was determinated of changing the way I looked. The bad words I heard on my back at school were still in my mind. They were following me everywhere.
One day I found in the cave 2 big suitcases full of old clothes. They belonged to Mum. I opened them and I found plenty of hippie spirit skirts, shirts and trousers. I took the suitcases in my room and started to try them on. The skirts suited me, the shirts too even if they stuck to my body but it was alright. However the trousers did not. When I look at the size of them, I discovered that the size was 46. My size at the time was 50. I was a bit sad to not wear them because I really loved them. At that point I decided to take care of myself and to totally change my image. I started by my weight. For the first time in my life I decided to loose few kilos. I did not want to become skinny as Carla Bruni or Laetitia Casta, but I wanted to have a nice and harmonious size with beautiful curves. My mom was my example and my inspiration. This is how I started to run every morning 10 minutes. That is not a long time but just what I needed to concialiate my body with some exercice. The best part in my body was my belly. I had a lot of fat around my size and and hips that prevented me to wear Mum's trousers. So my belly was my red target. Regarding my food, I did not follow the rubbish diets on the magazines. They promise you to loose 5 kilos in 2 weeks and then you loose them but once you stop following this diet, you gain 15 kilos and I did not want to play yoyo! I wanted to have a curvy body with nice curves. I reduced all the junk food like crips, sweets, chocolate bars and sodas. I prefered fruit, vegetables ans lemon with water. I discovered that I was fond of fruit mainly in juice. During all day, I was making apple juice, banana, strawberry juices. That was my own slim fast product, not the real rubbish one. I started feeling better with all this program. I did loose a lot of weight but I was in better mood and I felt more balanced in my mind. More important I could wear some of Mum's trousers.
When you have 2 weeks off in front of you, you do not know what to do. I started to do my planning. Of course I was punished but I had to use this extra time efficiently to build something. Instead of sleeping late on the mornings and the nights, I decided to wake up and sleep early. I was determinated of changing the way I looked. The bad words I heard on my back at school were still in my mind. They were following me everywhere.
One day I found in the cave 2 big suitcases full of old clothes. They belonged to Mum. I opened them and I found plenty of hippie spirit skirts, shirts and trousers. I took the suitcases in my room and started to try them on. The skirts suited me, the shirts too even if they stuck to my body but it was alright. However the trousers did not. When I look at the size of them, I discovered that the size was 46. My size at the time was 50. I was a bit sad to not wear them because I really loved them. At that point I decided to take care of myself and to totally change my image. I started by my weight. For the first time in my life I decided to loose few kilos. I did not want to become skinny as Carla Bruni or Laetitia Casta, but I wanted to have a nice and harmonious size with beautiful curves. My mom was my example and my inspiration. This is how I started to run every morning 10 minutes. That is not a long time but just what I needed to concialiate my body with some exercice. The best part in my body was my belly. I had a lot of fat around my size and and hips that prevented me to wear Mum's trousers. So my belly was my red target. Regarding my food, I did not follow the rubbish diets on the magazines. They promise you to loose 5 kilos in 2 weeks and then you loose them but once you stop following this diet, you gain 15 kilos and I did not want to play yoyo! I wanted to have a curvy body with nice curves. I reduced all the junk food like crips, sweets, chocolate bars and sodas. I prefered fruit, vegetables ans lemon with water. I discovered that I was fond of fruit mainly in juice. During all day, I was making apple juice, banana, strawberry juices. That was my own slim fast product, not the real rubbish one. I started feeling better with all this program. I did loose a lot of weight but I was in better mood and I felt more balanced in my mind. More important I could wear some of Mum's trousers.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Episod 4: The big day that changed me.
I was just behind the librairy's door. I took a deep breathing and I entered. I walked next to the bitchy group who were looking at me and laughing. I did not look at them. I will deal with this problem later. I arrived in the table where John was sitting and waiting for me with a photographic book in his hands. I approached to him:
-Hi John, how are you?
-Good, you Sarah?
-Very well! I discovered something very interesting this afternoon!
-What! A new site to take picture?
-No, that you were a big bastard!
-I beg you pardon!
-Oh John please! You are more clever than that! Do you think I am so stupid?
-What are you talking about Sarah!
-Fucking bastard! I was in the toilets when your bitchy friends talked about your challenge of touching me and kissing me!
He became red but carried on denying.
-Sorry Sarah, but I do not know what you are talking about!
-Oh really!
I grabbed his camera that was next to him and I just dropped it on the floor.
-What are you doing! by shouting.
He took his broken camera from the floor.
-Well now I hope you will never forget that no one has the right to laugh at me. I had so much respect for you John, you can not imagine, but you are just like the others, laughing at weak people, but I have good news for you, I am not a weak person, I am Moroccan !
Then I left him with a big smile. But I haven't finished my job. I went to see the bitchy friends who obviously did not miss the show. I took another deep breathing and slammed Jenny. A big slam on her face.
She was not expecting it. The noise of my hand on her cheek created a big silent on the librairy.
Then I said to her:
-That's for laughing at me, bitch!
I looked at her friend and told them:
-Do you want some to?
They took their book and run away.
After few seconds, Jenny started crying and shouted: I swear you will pay it!
-Really, I said. I am so scared. Shssss! Listen ! Your mama is calling you.
She run away too.
After this big show, I obviously got punished by the school. Jenny told everything to her parents that said everything to the headteacher who decided to expulse me from the school for 2 weeks. I was lucky because I could get more but because I was the best student at school, they just gave me 2 weeks. I learnt few times after this day that John said nothing about his camera. He stayed mute.
My parents were a bit shocked of what I did at school but they were not upset. I explained to them everything. They explained to me that violence does not resolve everything in this world and I understood what they were saying but the things that John and Jenny did to me could harm me more if I was not mentally strong. The only thing that my father wanted me to do is to apology to Jenny. My mom did not want to. But I did not want to make my father angry and I agreed to go to see Jenny and apology.
That was a bit hard for me because I do not regret what I did because she deserved it but once again I did not want to make my father upset.
The next day, Mum and I went to Jenny's house. We knocked at the door and a beautiful blond woman who looks like Jenny opened the door. She was her mom. My mum talked first.
-Hello Mrs Reynolds,we are...
-I know who you are! Well Sarah are you proud of what you did to my daughter? She is gonna have this pinky trace on her cheek for weeks. I am not sure if she can participate to the Beauty Competition of New's week Journal...
-Well Mrs Reynolds Sarah came here to apologise.
-Hun! Apologise! Are you serious! I do not know Miss Jenkins how you educate your girl but she is just a savage girl with no manner!
-Mrs Reynold, you forgot that your beautiful daughter laughed at Sarah and harasses her often at school!
-You know how are kids! They laugh at other kids and that is it. it is just kid games. Nothing harmful!
-Yes but no kid has the right to laugh at my daughter!
-As I can see Mrs Jenkins you are just like your own daughter! You have no manners! I wonder where you got your education!
My mum stayed mute. I could hear her heart beating faster. She looked at me and ordered me:
-Sarah, go to the car!
-Mum!
-I said go the car!
I obeyed and went to the car.
My mom looked at Mrs Reynolds by smiling:
-Dear Mrs Reynolds, I received my education from Morocco a very good education better than yours. If I was not an adult I would do to you what my daughter did to your beautiful kid. We came here to apologise, you do not want them, fine, but don't you dare to talk to me like this!
Have a great day, Mrs Reynolds.
Mom left, got in the car and we left. I said nothing and my mum said nothing. I did not hear what mum told Mrs Jenkings but I could guess. Once at home, we said nothing to Dad. But he did not ask us anything. I was so proud of my mom and was so happy to have her because she always protected me. I know, beating someone is not the best thing to do to but Mom knew that I had no other choice to protect my dignity.
-
-Hi John, how are you?
-Good, you Sarah?
-Very well! I discovered something very interesting this afternoon!
-What! A new site to take picture?
-No, that you were a big bastard!
-I beg you pardon!
-Oh John please! You are more clever than that! Do you think I am so stupid?
-What are you talking about Sarah!
-Fucking bastard! I was in the toilets when your bitchy friends talked about your challenge of touching me and kissing me!
He became red but carried on denying.
-Sorry Sarah, but I do not know what you are talking about!
-Oh really!
I grabbed his camera that was next to him and I just dropped it on the floor.
-What are you doing! by shouting.
He took his broken camera from the floor.
-Well now I hope you will never forget that no one has the right to laugh at me. I had so much respect for you John, you can not imagine, but you are just like the others, laughing at weak people, but I have good news for you, I am not a weak person, I am Moroccan !
Then I left him with a big smile. But I haven't finished my job. I went to see the bitchy friends who obviously did not miss the show. I took another deep breathing and slammed Jenny. A big slam on her face.
She was not expecting it. The noise of my hand on her cheek created a big silent on the librairy.
Then I said to her:
-That's for laughing at me, bitch!
I looked at her friend and told them:
-Do you want some to?
They took their book and run away.
After few seconds, Jenny started crying and shouted: I swear you will pay it!
-Really, I said. I am so scared. Shssss! Listen ! Your mama is calling you.
She run away too.
After this big show, I obviously got punished by the school. Jenny told everything to her parents that said everything to the headteacher who decided to expulse me from the school for 2 weeks. I was lucky because I could get more but because I was the best student at school, they just gave me 2 weeks. I learnt few times after this day that John said nothing about his camera. He stayed mute.
My parents were a bit shocked of what I did at school but they were not upset. I explained to them everything. They explained to me that violence does not resolve everything in this world and I understood what they were saying but the things that John and Jenny did to me could harm me more if I was not mentally strong. The only thing that my father wanted me to do is to apology to Jenny. My mom did not want to. But I did not want to make my father angry and I agreed to go to see Jenny and apology.
That was a bit hard for me because I do not regret what I did because she deserved it but once again I did not want to make my father upset.
The next day, Mum and I went to Jenny's house. We knocked at the door and a beautiful blond woman who looks like Jenny opened the door. She was her mom. My mum talked first.
-Hello Mrs Reynolds,we are...
-I know who you are! Well Sarah are you proud of what you did to my daughter? She is gonna have this pinky trace on her cheek for weeks. I am not sure if she can participate to the Beauty Competition of New's week Journal...
-Well Mrs Reynolds Sarah came here to apologise.
-Hun! Apologise! Are you serious! I do not know Miss Jenkins how you educate your girl but she is just a savage girl with no manner!
-Mrs Reynold, you forgot that your beautiful daughter laughed at Sarah and harasses her often at school!
-You know how are kids! They laugh at other kids and that is it. it is just kid games. Nothing harmful!
-Yes but no kid has the right to laugh at my daughter!
-As I can see Mrs Jenkins you are just like your own daughter! You have no manners! I wonder where you got your education!
My mum stayed mute. I could hear her heart beating faster. She looked at me and ordered me:
-Sarah, go to the car!
-Mum!
-I said go the car!
I obeyed and went to the car.
My mom looked at Mrs Reynolds by smiling:
-Dear Mrs Reynolds, I received my education from Morocco a very good education better than yours. If I was not an adult I would do to you what my daughter did to your beautiful kid. We came here to apologise, you do not want them, fine, but don't you dare to talk to me like this!
Have a great day, Mrs Reynolds.
Mom left, got in the car and we left. I said nothing and my mum said nothing. I did not hear what mum told Mrs Jenkings but I could guess. Once at home, we said nothing to Dad. But he did not ask us anything. I was so proud of my mom and was so happy to have her because she always protected me. I know, beating someone is not the best thing to do to but Mom knew that I had no other choice to protect my dignity.
-
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Episod3: Super Big Girl
As I said before, I always have been a big girl. Even now I am a still a big girl. But I do not like that word "Big", it does fit to a woman. I would say I always have been and I am still a curvy girl. The difference is that I better accept my body today than before. I really accept the person I am today and I am not ashamed of saying I love who I am . But it was not all the time the case.
When I was younger, I was the biggest little girl in the class. You know it is strange how you always find in a class one and unique red-hair pupil, one children who always does the bad things in class, only one kid with glasses and in my case I was the big girl in the class. I had to face the worst names like Piggy Purky, Halloween potatoe, Slim fast or Bowling ball and so on...I could write a dictionnary of all the bad names I was given and I am sure that I can published it today ! But my weapon to struggle against this big discrimination was to be a good student with excellent results in exams and I was the best in everything: history, maths, French language because obviously my mum taught me French and we were talking all the time in french even when I was in her belly, therefore I could speak it fluently and with no accent, I was good at English litterature and mainly arts. I was a great artist. My teachers were so impressed by the choice of the colours I used in my paintings or the fashion drawings I did that they exhibited my works during all the different celebrations of the year. When my classmates discovered that I was a good student, they just gave up on harassing me and took another target who was Ted, the red-hair boy in the class.
But I have to admit that all the names the kids gave me at school did not touch me. I never went back home crying to my mum because someone told me something silly! No! I just focused on my objective that was to be a good student, the best one. Besides, if someone was very bad with me, I just fought back by responding with bad words too or by fighting, I mean by punching and boxing ! What can I say! I think that was my Moroccan blood that made me like this.
My parents were not worried about my weight. They used to let me eat what I wanted. I am not saying that I had messy meals but my weight was not the first priority of my parents because they always said that once I grew up, I would be slimmer. But I think that if they let me eat what I wanted is because they did not want to make me feel bad with myself. They always wanted me to be proud of who I am, whatever the others say. My mum spend a lot of time explaining to me that people and mainly my dad's family were laughing at her because she was Muslim. She never told me precisely the details but her family in law told her bad things about Ramadan, about Arabic people for instance that they were all terrorists, that they were women beaters, that they were dirty in the way they kill the sheep on Aïd celebration. But my mum always stayed quiet and never said something. She let them talk because her parents taught her to respect people who were older than her. But once my father got very angry during a family dinner. His family was watching a documentary on a poor algerian family and they were laughing at this family. My father looked at my mum who was unconfortable and he got up shouting at his family by calling them "narrow minded people", he then took my mum by her hand and left the house. They never went back to this house. They just interrupted all the contacts with dad's family. Even now, he does not talk to his parents and brothers and sisters. His family never apologized for having sad such monstruous words. All this story made my mum a bit unconfortable because she wanted my father to see his parents since such a thing does not happen a lot in Moroccan families but my father never accepted to see his parents again. As far as I am concerned, my grand parents never asked about me and even now. I had more contacts with my Moroccan grand -parents with whom I talked each week even if they are far away from us compared to my "american grand-parents" who live dozens of miles from us.
All these facts made my parents more relaxed on the way they educated me. They let me live at my own rythm. Sometimes , when I was visiting a doctor for a simple visit, he repeated again and again to my mum that I needed to loose some weight with some stupid diets and to do some sports. My mum signed me up at the swimming sunday classes and I became a great swimmer. But she forgot about the diets.
However it became harder for me to be a big girl once I was in the secondary school, mainly when I started to be interested in boys. At that time, there was an awesome boy I really liked. He was tall, slim, had black hair with fabulous green golden eyes. His eyes were so captivating that I always got lost in them each time I looked at him. All the girls were in love with him. Each time he was walking in the main corridor of the school, it was like a film, everything got slow and slow. Everyone was looking at him like in a shampoo ad. All the girls were looking at him and then they were talking to themselves by smiling. His name was Jonathan. Everyone was calling him John. He was my classmate at the photograph lesson. But gosh when I think of how I looked like when I was 16, I am just ashamed of my self. I looked so ugly. I had no taste in dressing up. I had big jeans with very short tops that showed my fabulous ass, such big ass. When I look at the pictures, I just wish that I could wear a jacket to hide this ass. Moreover I had Converse shoes with a different colours in each foot and a tiny back bag that made me huge.
Once Jonathan ask me at the end of a photograph lesson to work with me for a project. That was our first conversation.
-Hi Sarah!
-Hi! (I was becoming so red)
- I wanted to ask you if you would like to work with me on the photographic work we need to do for next week. I saw your central park pictures and they are great.
-Euh (I did not what to say). yes !Why not ! that will be fantastic!
-Can we meet tonight at the librairy at 5?
-Yes, 5 will be great!
-Well Sarah! (I loved when he said my name) See you tonight at the librairy. Nice earings by the way.
-Thank you.
I touched my earrings. They belonged to my mum's. Her grand-mother gave them to her mother then she gave them to her daughter, then mum gave them to me. They were in gold and were long Fatma's hand with a green pearl in the middle. A moroccan treasure. These earrings became my lucky item since that day.
I was stressed all the afternoon. I was not concentrating on my lessons. My History teacher was talking about the Second World War but I could not hear him. I was only thinking at Jonathan and his eyes. At one moment, my teacher asked me a question. Obviously I did not hear it and for the first time in my life, I did not have an answer. I just responded to the teacher : I do not know.
My teacher stared at me like he saw a ghost or something. I can understand, I always gave the good answers. The teacher just replied:
-Are you sick Ms Jenkins?
-No sir!
-Well I am sure you are sick, you better go to the bathroom and put some water on your face because you do not look very fresh.
Everybody laughed.
I got up, took my books and followed what the teacher told me and I went to the bathroom. I left the class without saying a word. When I was about to leave the room, I heard some classmates laughing at me and calling me "Hippopotamus back to the zoo". I turned back, looked at them in a very bad way and left the room.
Once I was in the toilets, I looked at myself in the mirror, turned to see my ass and said at loud:
-They are right, I look like a hippopotamus.
I felt sad suddenly. So sad. I entered in a toilet cabin and sat on the toilet. I was about to cry but suddenly a group of girls entered in the bathroom. I stayed mute.
They were certainly 3 or 4 girls giggling. The first one talked. I recognized the voice of Jamie Reynold, the sexiest girl at school. She was with her bitchy band.
-I am so looking for 5 o'clock!
-Are you going to be there?
-Oh definitely! I would not miss that moment for anything in the world.
-What do you think he gonna tell her?
-I don't know that maybe she is beautiful, the most beautiful girl in the school, after me of course! She giggled.
-How much did Jonathan bet?
When I heard the name of Jonathan, I stopped breathing. I stucked on the toilets. I could not move. These bitches were talking about me.
-He bet 20 bucks that he could touch her face and 50 if he kisses her!
-Oh beurk! said all the girls together.
-How can he kiss her? She is so hideous and big! Have you just seen her jeans, I am sure we can jump in altogether!
-Perhaps we can throw it on the sky and it will cover the huge atmosphere hole in Australia!
They all laughed at the same time like chickens.
-Come on girl, just 15 minutes left before the big show.
-Yes some lipstick! Perfect!
-Come on girls let's get ride of the big coackroach!
This insect name was the word that just killed me. For all these girls, I was a hideous insect. What did I do to them? I never swore at them. I never looked at them in a bad way. I even never talk to them because they are not my friends. I always have been in my little world and never bothered someone in this fucking school. I found that unfair. So unfair. I felt some tears sliding out my right cheek. The deepest and the blackest side of me wook up and started to give me orders. A tiny me appeared in front of me telling me:
-Sarah, what are you doing! Don't cry, you are not a kid anymore! Why are you crying! You know that these girls are stupid bitches. They can not even read a book! Don't be like that! Wake up! Get up! You gonna go to your rendez-vous and do a mess to the librairy. Don't you forget! You are moroccan and as you mum always says to you ' Nobody can harm a Moroccan girl". When the little voice used the word Moroccan, I just wook up, ready to fight.
I said louder and louder and repeated it: "Nobody can harm a Moroccan girl", "Nobody can harm a Moroccan girl", "Nobody can harm a Moroccan girl".. I was repeating these words as if I was in a kind of sect and it worked. I felt the energy travelling in my body, such energy that I gave a huge hook kick on the door that I broke it. A girl who was washing her hand, looked at me scared and run away.
I look at the mirror. My face was red as if I run the New York Marathon. My heart was beating so fast that it could jump out from my chest. I looked at my eyes and I recognised my mum's eyes. I took a deep breath and took the direction of the librairy. 5 minutes left before the big show as the bitches said. They wanted a show, I will give them a show. The biggest show in their fucking miserable life.
When I was younger, I was the biggest little girl in the class. You know it is strange how you always find in a class one and unique red-hair pupil, one children who always does the bad things in class, only one kid with glasses and in my case I was the big girl in the class. I had to face the worst names like Piggy Purky, Halloween potatoe, Slim fast or Bowling ball and so on...I could write a dictionnary of all the bad names I was given and I am sure that I can published it today ! But my weapon to struggle against this big discrimination was to be a good student with excellent results in exams and I was the best in everything: history, maths, French language because obviously my mum taught me French and we were talking all the time in french even when I was in her belly, therefore I could speak it fluently and with no accent, I was good at English litterature and mainly arts. I was a great artist. My teachers were so impressed by the choice of the colours I used in my paintings or the fashion drawings I did that they exhibited my works during all the different celebrations of the year. When my classmates discovered that I was a good student, they just gave up on harassing me and took another target who was Ted, the red-hair boy in the class.
But I have to admit that all the names the kids gave me at school did not touch me. I never went back home crying to my mum because someone told me something silly! No! I just focused on my objective that was to be a good student, the best one. Besides, if someone was very bad with me, I just fought back by responding with bad words too or by fighting, I mean by punching and boxing ! What can I say! I think that was my Moroccan blood that made me like this.
My parents were not worried about my weight. They used to let me eat what I wanted. I am not saying that I had messy meals but my weight was not the first priority of my parents because they always said that once I grew up, I would be slimmer. But I think that if they let me eat what I wanted is because they did not want to make me feel bad with myself. They always wanted me to be proud of who I am, whatever the others say. My mum spend a lot of time explaining to me that people and mainly my dad's family were laughing at her because she was Muslim. She never told me precisely the details but her family in law told her bad things about Ramadan, about Arabic people for instance that they were all terrorists, that they were women beaters, that they were dirty in the way they kill the sheep on Aïd celebration. But my mum always stayed quiet and never said something. She let them talk because her parents taught her to respect people who were older than her. But once my father got very angry during a family dinner. His family was watching a documentary on a poor algerian family and they were laughing at this family. My father looked at my mum who was unconfortable and he got up shouting at his family by calling them "narrow minded people", he then took my mum by her hand and left the house. They never went back to this house. They just interrupted all the contacts with dad's family. Even now, he does not talk to his parents and brothers and sisters. His family never apologized for having sad such monstruous words. All this story made my mum a bit unconfortable because she wanted my father to see his parents since such a thing does not happen a lot in Moroccan families but my father never accepted to see his parents again. As far as I am concerned, my grand parents never asked about me and even now. I had more contacts with my Moroccan grand -parents with whom I talked each week even if they are far away from us compared to my "american grand-parents" who live dozens of miles from us.
All these facts made my parents more relaxed on the way they educated me. They let me live at my own rythm. Sometimes , when I was visiting a doctor for a simple visit, he repeated again and again to my mum that I needed to loose some weight with some stupid diets and to do some sports. My mum signed me up at the swimming sunday classes and I became a great swimmer. But she forgot about the diets.
However it became harder for me to be a big girl once I was in the secondary school, mainly when I started to be interested in boys. At that time, there was an awesome boy I really liked. He was tall, slim, had black hair with fabulous green golden eyes. His eyes were so captivating that I always got lost in them each time I looked at him. All the girls were in love with him. Each time he was walking in the main corridor of the school, it was like a film, everything got slow and slow. Everyone was looking at him like in a shampoo ad. All the girls were looking at him and then they were talking to themselves by smiling. His name was Jonathan. Everyone was calling him John. He was my classmate at the photograph lesson. But gosh when I think of how I looked like when I was 16, I am just ashamed of my self. I looked so ugly. I had no taste in dressing up. I had big jeans with very short tops that showed my fabulous ass, such big ass. When I look at the pictures, I just wish that I could wear a jacket to hide this ass. Moreover I had Converse shoes with a different colours in each foot and a tiny back bag that made me huge.
Once Jonathan ask me at the end of a photograph lesson to work with me for a project. That was our first conversation.
-Hi Sarah!
-Hi! (I was becoming so red)
- I wanted to ask you if you would like to work with me on the photographic work we need to do for next week. I saw your central park pictures and they are great.
-Euh (I did not what to say). yes !Why not ! that will be fantastic!
-Can we meet tonight at the librairy at 5?
-Yes, 5 will be great!
-Well Sarah! (I loved when he said my name) See you tonight at the librairy. Nice earings by the way.
-Thank you.
I touched my earrings. They belonged to my mum's. Her grand-mother gave them to her mother then she gave them to her daughter, then mum gave them to me. They were in gold and were long Fatma's hand with a green pearl in the middle. A moroccan treasure. These earrings became my lucky item since that day.
I was stressed all the afternoon. I was not concentrating on my lessons. My History teacher was talking about the Second World War but I could not hear him. I was only thinking at Jonathan and his eyes. At one moment, my teacher asked me a question. Obviously I did not hear it and for the first time in my life, I did not have an answer. I just responded to the teacher : I do not know.
My teacher stared at me like he saw a ghost or something. I can understand, I always gave the good answers. The teacher just replied:
-Are you sick Ms Jenkins?
-No sir!
-Well I am sure you are sick, you better go to the bathroom and put some water on your face because you do not look very fresh.
Everybody laughed.
I got up, took my books and followed what the teacher told me and I went to the bathroom. I left the class without saying a word. When I was about to leave the room, I heard some classmates laughing at me and calling me "Hippopotamus back to the zoo". I turned back, looked at them in a very bad way and left the room.
Once I was in the toilets, I looked at myself in the mirror, turned to see my ass and said at loud:
-They are right, I look like a hippopotamus.
I felt sad suddenly. So sad. I entered in a toilet cabin and sat on the toilet. I was about to cry but suddenly a group of girls entered in the bathroom. I stayed mute.
They were certainly 3 or 4 girls giggling. The first one talked. I recognized the voice of Jamie Reynold, the sexiest girl at school. She was with her bitchy band.
-I am so looking for 5 o'clock!
-Are you going to be there?
-Oh definitely! I would not miss that moment for anything in the world.
-What do you think he gonna tell her?
-I don't know that maybe she is beautiful, the most beautiful girl in the school, after me of course! She giggled.
-How much did Jonathan bet?
When I heard the name of Jonathan, I stopped breathing. I stucked on the toilets. I could not move. These bitches were talking about me.
-He bet 20 bucks that he could touch her face and 50 if he kisses her!
-Oh beurk! said all the girls together.
-How can he kiss her? She is so hideous and big! Have you just seen her jeans, I am sure we can jump in altogether!
-Perhaps we can throw it on the sky and it will cover the huge atmosphere hole in Australia!
They all laughed at the same time like chickens.
-Come on girl, just 15 minutes left before the big show.
-Yes some lipstick! Perfect!
-Come on girls let's get ride of the big coackroach!
This insect name was the word that just killed me. For all these girls, I was a hideous insect. What did I do to them? I never swore at them. I never looked at them in a bad way. I even never talk to them because they are not my friends. I always have been in my little world and never bothered someone in this fucking school. I found that unfair. So unfair. I felt some tears sliding out my right cheek. The deepest and the blackest side of me wook up and started to give me orders. A tiny me appeared in front of me telling me:
-Sarah, what are you doing! Don't cry, you are not a kid anymore! Why are you crying! You know that these girls are stupid bitches. They can not even read a book! Don't be like that! Wake up! Get up! You gonna go to your rendez-vous and do a mess to the librairy. Don't you forget! You are moroccan and as you mum always says to you ' Nobody can harm a Moroccan girl". When the little voice used the word Moroccan, I just wook up, ready to fight.
I said louder and louder and repeated it: "Nobody can harm a Moroccan girl", "Nobody can harm a Moroccan girl", "Nobody can harm a Moroccan girl".. I was repeating these words as if I was in a kind of sect and it worked. I felt the energy travelling in my body, such energy that I gave a huge hook kick on the door that I broke it. A girl who was washing her hand, looked at me scared and run away.
I look at the mirror. My face was red as if I run the New York Marathon. My heart was beating so fast that it could jump out from my chest. I looked at my eyes and I recognised my mum's eyes. I took a deep breath and took the direction of the librairy. 5 minutes left before the big show as the bitches said. They wanted a show, I will give them a show. The biggest show in their fucking miserable life.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Episod 2: Moroccan influence
When Mom got pregnant, she left her job. I was getting bigger and bigger that she could not bent or taking care of the patients at the hospital. So she stayed at home and started to get bored and homesick. She was missing Morocco. My dad hated seeing her like that. At that time, his business was working very well so he decided to give a wonderful gift to Mum. As she could not go to Morocco, he decided to bring Morocco to her. One evening he came back at home, found Mom leading on the sofa eating snach and junk food. He surprised her.
-Paul, you are home early today!
-Yes! Kenza take your coat, I need to show you something!
-What, where!
-No more question please, would you once shut up and listen to what I say!
-Alright, I get my coat!
Then they went out.
They arrived in front of small little shop.
-Paul, where are we?
-Chut Kenza, you ask too many questions. Close your eyes?
-Ok!
He took her hand, opens the door of the little shop and entered in the shop.
He turned on the light and say:
-Darling, you can open your eyes !
Mom opened her eyes. She looked around and looked at my father.
-What is this?
-Well Darling, welcome to your new shop!
-My new shop, what do you mean?
-As these last weeks you miss Morocco and you get bored at home, I decided to bring Morocco to you, this is your new Moroccan shop.
-Oh Paul, how are you joking, can we afford this?
-Yes I got a big contract 2 weeks ago. So I decided to give you this present. You see you can sell Moroccan souvenirs here: tajines, ashers, fabrics, babouches, kaftan, perfumes, oils...you will order all the items from Morocco and once there are in America, you sell them here. It will be your little Morocco. So what do you think honey!
-Well I don't....
-I know for the moment it does not look like a Moroccan shop but Cliff agreed to deals with the interior design and decoration. He will make you something amazing. Morever you are not far from home and once we get the baby, it can stay with you all the time here.
-Oh Paul!
-No Kenza, no time to cry! You need to think of what you are going to sell here!
She goes to him, takes his face into her hand and kisses him softly.
-Paul, the best gift you could give me is Morocco, thank you!
-I would do everything for you darling! In two weeks time you'll get your shop.
Dad was right. As he promised, in two weeks time, the Moroccon shop was ready. It was a magical place. Dad thought of everything. He bought all the traditional items that we can find in Marrakesh: lamps, baskets, dresses, shoes, soaps and even music. He even hired someone, a young Moroccan seller to help Mom. They called the shop simply "Little Morocco".
The shop began with a huge success. People were looking for colourful staff to enlight their home of their every day life. Mom was getting bigger and bigger with me inside her belly, sometimes she could not stay up a long time so she just sat on an armchair and Hassan, the Moroccan seller was doing everything for Mum. He was very helpful. Mom really liked him. They could talk to each other in arabic, a big pleasure for mom.
Few weeks after the opening, I came to world. When I was a baby, my mum kept me with her in the shop. Dad oversaw a little room with a bed in the shop where I could sleep. Mum never let me at home with some stranger baby sitter. She always wanted me to be with her.
Years after years, "Little Morocco became my second home. I knew everything about Morocco because after school I was reading books and books of Morocco. When a new item arrived to the shop, I wanted to know where it came from and how it was made. I knew about the benefits of the argan oil, henna, basket, shoes and mainly fashion. I was fond of the Moroccan fashion mainly with the Kaftan, the traditional moroccan dress. I discovered in my reading that Yves Saint Laurent found his fashion inspiration in Morocco where he bought a house in Marrakech. He used a lot the colors and the style of the traditional dress to create his collections.
That is in Little Morocco that I decided what I would do later: I would like to become a fashion designer and do like Yves saint Laurent, I would like to inspire myself from Morocco and create my collections. After my A level, I registered in a Fashion course in the University.
-Paul, you are home early today!
-Yes! Kenza take your coat, I need to show you something!
-What, where!
-No more question please, would you once shut up and listen to what I say!
-Alright, I get my coat!
Then they went out.
They arrived in front of small little shop.
-Paul, where are we?
-Chut Kenza, you ask too many questions. Close your eyes?
-Ok!
He took her hand, opens the door of the little shop and entered in the shop.
He turned on the light and say:
-Darling, you can open your eyes !
Mom opened her eyes. She looked around and looked at my father.
-What is this?
-Well Darling, welcome to your new shop!
-My new shop, what do you mean?
-As these last weeks you miss Morocco and you get bored at home, I decided to bring Morocco to you, this is your new Moroccan shop.
-Oh Paul, how are you joking, can we afford this?
-Yes I got a big contract 2 weeks ago. So I decided to give you this present. You see you can sell Moroccan souvenirs here: tajines, ashers, fabrics, babouches, kaftan, perfumes, oils...you will order all the items from Morocco and once there are in America, you sell them here. It will be your little Morocco. So what do you think honey!
-Well I don't....
-I know for the moment it does not look like a Moroccan shop but Cliff agreed to deals with the interior design and decoration. He will make you something amazing. Morever you are not far from home and once we get the baby, it can stay with you all the time here.
-Oh Paul!
-No Kenza, no time to cry! You need to think of what you are going to sell here!
She goes to him, takes his face into her hand and kisses him softly.
-Paul, the best gift you could give me is Morocco, thank you!
-I would do everything for you darling! In two weeks time you'll get your shop.
Dad was right. As he promised, in two weeks time, the Moroccon shop was ready. It was a magical place. Dad thought of everything. He bought all the traditional items that we can find in Marrakesh: lamps, baskets, dresses, shoes, soaps and even music. He even hired someone, a young Moroccan seller to help Mom. They called the shop simply "Little Morocco".
The shop began with a huge success. People were looking for colourful staff to enlight their home of their every day life. Mom was getting bigger and bigger with me inside her belly, sometimes she could not stay up a long time so she just sat on an armchair and Hassan, the Moroccan seller was doing everything for Mum. He was very helpful. Mom really liked him. They could talk to each other in arabic, a big pleasure for mom.
Few weeks after the opening, I came to world. When I was a baby, my mum kept me with her in the shop. Dad oversaw a little room with a bed in the shop where I could sleep. Mum never let me at home with some stranger baby sitter. She always wanted me to be with her.
Years after years, "Little Morocco became my second home. I knew everything about Morocco because after school I was reading books and books of Morocco. When a new item arrived to the shop, I wanted to know where it came from and how it was made. I knew about the benefits of the argan oil, henna, basket, shoes and mainly fashion. I was fond of the Moroccan fashion mainly with the Kaftan, the traditional moroccan dress. I discovered in my reading that Yves Saint Laurent found his fashion inspiration in Morocco where he bought a house in Marrakech. He used a lot the colors and the style of the traditional dress to create his collections.
That is in Little Morocco that I decided what I would do later: I would like to become a fashion designer and do like Yves saint Laurent, I would like to inspire myself from Morocco and create my collections. After my A level, I registered in a Fashion course in the University.
Episod1: Big since I was 0!
I always have been a big girl ! Since I was a baby. When my mum was carrying me in her belly, everyone thought she would have twins. But the doctor was clear : she was waiting for a unique girl.
When I got born, that was a horrific moment for my poor mum. Dad remembers that she was shouting in giving me birth. He was taking her hand. He was so worried that he collapsed with so much stressed on the floor of the room. My mum did not know what to do. She was seeing her husband on the floor like a earthworm and me inside her uterus that did not want to get out. But mum was a strong woman. She never gave up. She pushed, pushed so hard that I was about to take off like a plane. The nurses got me out from my first home. I cried so hard that my father wook up. That were my first tears. Not the last one in my life.
My mum is a pure beauty. An arabic beauty. She is Moroccan. She has long black hair, big brown eye, the sexiest mouth in the world and the things that make her perfect are her curves. Beautiful curves. Generous breasts with a big bump and a belly. Her size was 46. She is overweighted but not overweighted in a sick way but overweighted in an aesthetic way. I am sure if the famous French painters were still alive, they would pay a fortune just to paint her body. She is proud of her size 46, she always told me that the size of the actress Marilyn Monroe was 46. And she knows how to dress. Always wearing long dresses that were putting in advantage her curves and that emphasized her size and breasts. One of her beauty rule is to show only one part of the body that she wanted to exhib and hide the rest because, as she says, if you show everything in the same time, all the beauty of being curvy disappears and you may look rude. Her favorite beauty weapon is her high heels. Magic heels that make her a goddess. Not very high heels but she is careful to choose the good size to not have painful feet. She is always carring in her bag a measuring tape to measure the heel. 6 centimers are her limit. More was too much.
My father and mum met in Paris. Mum left Morocco after she got her scientist A-level and started her medical studies in Paris. Dad is american. He was a student too, studying architecture in Paris. They met each other one day in the canteen of Uni. (You'll see that everything is about food in my life!). My mum was helping herself, when dad entered in the canteen. He saw a beautiful back of a lady that had long black hair. He told me once in secret that he was not attracted by Mum's hair but by her bottom. He wanted to know more about her. When Mom found a place to sit, dad saw her face and he forgot about her ass and focused on her sweet face. He came to her without thinking of what he would tell her and talked to her in french with his sweet american accent.
-Hi Miss! Sorry for disturbing you but....(he did not know what to say and then said in a clumsy way with his american accent ) I saw that you grapped some whole meal bread and I wanted some but...there is none left now...So...
-So you want it ?
- Don't you mind !
-Well of course you can have it!
-Thank you ! And I would like your hand as well !
Big silence
-Sorry, say again?
- I said I want your whole meal bread and I want to get married with you....
-Are you joking or what because if you are, I don't have time to spend in your childish game.
She gets up, ready to go away.
-No please stay, (taking her arm) I think I am in love with you, love at the firt sight, what I am sure is I want to spend my life with you.
Mum stayed looking at him. A big silence burnst in the canteen. Everybody was looking at them.
Dad kneed down like in the romantic films, took mum's hand and said :
-Would you share with me this whole meal bread and my poor life?
Mum looked at him and laughed and just answered "I'll share your bread but give me time to share your life"
-That's a good beginning! said my father.
Every body applaused in the canteen.
Dad sat next to mum, their shared their meal and a bread and they never got separated.
Mom and Dad got married 3 years after this amazing meeting. It was a bit long cause Mom had to convince her parents that Dad was the good man for her. She flought first of all to Casablanca to tell the news to her parents. In the beginning, my grand parents did not want her to get married with an american. they thought that maybe Dad would take advantage of her for few months and then he would get ride of her. There was another reason : the religion. Mum is Muslim and my Dad had no religion. So her parents told her that if she wanted to get married with him he would have to convert to Islam. Thing he accepted without asking questions. For Mum, he would have gone to the Moon just for her eyes. Both of them went back to Morocco and got a traditional and amazing wedding. Mum was dressed like a princess with her colorful Kaftans. And Dad was so awesome. Then they decided to go to New York to live there. A new choice that made Mom depressed because she did not know the country. She couldn't speak a good english. But she learnt everything quite quickly, thanks to dad who supported her every day. He signed her up in English courses. Dad became an architect and Mom became a care assistant since she has not finished her medical studies in France. Few months later, I came to life.
The 22th June 1981, Sarah JO got born with a weight of 4 kilogramms. My mum chose the name of Sarah because it reminded her the Sahara desert. A place where she went once with her Dad, because she comes from the city of Laâyoune.
When I got born, that was a horrific moment for my poor mum. Dad remembers that she was shouting in giving me birth. He was taking her hand. He was so worried that he collapsed with so much stressed on the floor of the room. My mum did not know what to do. She was seeing her husband on the floor like a earthworm and me inside her uterus that did not want to get out. But mum was a strong woman. She never gave up. She pushed, pushed so hard that I was about to take off like a plane. The nurses got me out from my first home. I cried so hard that my father wook up. That were my first tears. Not the last one in my life.
My mum is a pure beauty. An arabic beauty. She is Moroccan. She has long black hair, big brown eye, the sexiest mouth in the world and the things that make her perfect are her curves. Beautiful curves. Generous breasts with a big bump and a belly. Her size was 46. She is overweighted but not overweighted in a sick way but overweighted in an aesthetic way. I am sure if the famous French painters were still alive, they would pay a fortune just to paint her body. She is proud of her size 46, she always told me that the size of the actress Marilyn Monroe was 46. And she knows how to dress. Always wearing long dresses that were putting in advantage her curves and that emphasized her size and breasts. One of her beauty rule is to show only one part of the body that she wanted to exhib and hide the rest because, as she says, if you show everything in the same time, all the beauty of being curvy disappears and you may look rude. Her favorite beauty weapon is her high heels. Magic heels that make her a goddess. Not very high heels but she is careful to choose the good size to not have painful feet. She is always carring in her bag a measuring tape to measure the heel. 6 centimers are her limit. More was too much.
My father and mum met in Paris. Mum left Morocco after she got her scientist A-level and started her medical studies in Paris. Dad is american. He was a student too, studying architecture in Paris. They met each other one day in the canteen of Uni. (You'll see that everything is about food in my life!). My mum was helping herself, when dad entered in the canteen. He saw a beautiful back of a lady that had long black hair. He told me once in secret that he was not attracted by Mum's hair but by her bottom. He wanted to know more about her. When Mom found a place to sit, dad saw her face and he forgot about her ass and focused on her sweet face. He came to her without thinking of what he would tell her and talked to her in french with his sweet american accent.
-Hi Miss! Sorry for disturbing you but....(he did not know what to say and then said in a clumsy way with his american accent ) I saw that you grapped some whole meal bread and I wanted some but...there is none left now...So...
-So you want it ?
- Don't you mind !
-Well of course you can have it!
-Thank you ! And I would like your hand as well !
Big silence
-Sorry, say again?
- I said I want your whole meal bread and I want to get married with you....
-Are you joking or what because if you are, I don't have time to spend in your childish game.
She gets up, ready to go away.
-No please stay, (taking her arm) I think I am in love with you, love at the firt sight, what I am sure is I want to spend my life with you.
Mum stayed looking at him. A big silence burnst in the canteen. Everybody was looking at them.
Dad kneed down like in the romantic films, took mum's hand and said :
-Would you share with me this whole meal bread and my poor life?
Mum looked at him and laughed and just answered "I'll share your bread but give me time to share your life"
-That's a good beginning! said my father.
Every body applaused in the canteen.
Dad sat next to mum, their shared their meal and a bread and they never got separated.
Mom and Dad got married 3 years after this amazing meeting. It was a bit long cause Mom had to convince her parents that Dad was the good man for her. She flought first of all to Casablanca to tell the news to her parents. In the beginning, my grand parents did not want her to get married with an american. they thought that maybe Dad would take advantage of her for few months and then he would get ride of her. There was another reason : the religion. Mum is Muslim and my Dad had no religion. So her parents told her that if she wanted to get married with him he would have to convert to Islam. Thing he accepted without asking questions. For Mum, he would have gone to the Moon just for her eyes. Both of them went back to Morocco and got a traditional and amazing wedding. Mum was dressed like a princess with her colorful Kaftans. And Dad was so awesome. Then they decided to go to New York to live there. A new choice that made Mom depressed because she did not know the country. She couldn't speak a good english. But she learnt everything quite quickly, thanks to dad who supported her every day. He signed her up in English courses. Dad became an architect and Mom became a care assistant since she has not finished her medical studies in France. Few months later, I came to life.
The 22th June 1981, Sarah JO got born with a weight of 4 kilogramms. My mum chose the name of Sarah because it reminded her the Sahara desert. A place where she went once with her Dad, because she comes from the city of Laâyoune.
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