A disfigured woman continues to try to put her shattered life back together.
I am sorry for not writing in here for so long; please do forgive me.
This is Fahid Al Mahood. The name may not be familiar to many, but maybe you will remember me once I share my story with you.
I was married to my husband, Amir, and in a fit of rage (jealousy, perhaps?---), he threw liquid acid at me. It splashed on my neck, arms, and face; now I am horribly disfigured, and I have lived my life in seclusion. I am terrified to leave my house, for fear of finger-pointing and name-calling from strangers. I am ugly.
My husband beat me regularly. I feared for the life of my baby boy, Amir, Jr.; I was so terrifed that my husband would beat him or take him away from me. Somohow, that never occurred; my son was the only thing that kept me sane during those dark years filled with so much fear and uncertainty.
I am now no longer married to Amir. He and I filed for divorce, and he is now in jail, serving a ten-year sentnece for domestic abuse, violence against a spouse, and child endangerment. I fear that this sentence wasn't NEARLY as long enough as the bastard deserved. Because of HIM, the life I knew is over. Because of HIM, I live in the bowels of society, trying to hide my shattered face and trying to protect my son. Because of HIM I have lingering nightmares, and I am an emotional mess.
I have been living here in Nashville, Tennessee, where I only have one friend, Louisiana Sandusky. Louisiana Sandusky was a nurse who took care of me while I was recovering from my acid burns to my face, arms, and neck, and it was a hard, painful time for me. I still talk to her from time to time; but she hardly visits, as she is busy with her own life. She has a big family to take care of.
I am going to university now, trying to better my life. I want to become a writer, perhaps someday write a book and share my life story. I would like to give other sufferers of domestic abuse hope in the face of impossible circumtances, and let them know that even though I am now disfigured, I am still the same person, and I still have so much I can offer to other people.
My son, Amir, Jr., is with me. He is no longer a baby: he is three years old now, soon to be four. He has grown into a sturdy little boy with an engaging personality, and he looks like me. He is really handsome with his round-cheeked, naturally-tanned face, huge obsidian eyes flecked with gold, incredibly long lashes, and a mouth that is quick to smile. He is very smart, and he is so full of questions. He is my life, my world, and where there was once darkness and anger, there is now joy and light.
I don't know what I have done to get these blessings from above, but life for me is suddenly much better now. I am happier now than I have been in many years, and I am safe and FREE here in America. I have also started studying for my citizenship test.
That is another thing: I am working towards becoming a citizen of the United States of America. I LOVE America, and I always have. I love the choices people have here, and I love the fact that there are so many cultures, so many religions, so many nationalities, living together in harmony. Sure, America has many problems, but I would much rather live here than back home in my native Iraq, where war continues to rage unabated.
Maybe one day I will put a picture of how I look now, but I am just not ready to do that yet. Until then, all you will see are my eyes. My eyes are the only beautiful thing on me; this is why I have the remainder of my face hidden behind my veil. I fear people just aren't ready to see me as I truly am: ugly.
Oh Karen this was just a heartbreaking write! For a few moments we forgot that it comes from your pen, not from the poor woman herself. You have painted such a real picture, Excellent done!
Lots of love, Birgit and Roger
Gosh!!!!! How sad!!!!! But it is true that someof the women in Irag are being treated with such abuses. I'm so sad to read this, but somewhat relieved that Fahid has found the courage through her young son to survive.
Ugliness is only a perception through another beholder's eyes. Beauty always comes in the eyes of the beholders. Perhaps one day, Fahid will be brave enough to let the world see her for the beautiful and courageous person she is, and will no longer feel the need to hide anymore.
The ugliness is the abuse, not the hidden face of the victim. Excellent write but some of the story seems missing: exactly what "impossible circumstances" were overcome? Did she just survive long enough for the law to catch up to her husband, or did she take an active hand in saving herself. In other words, what is the source of the hope she would share with others? I would have liked to see these questions touched on, though I like what you've got here.
Exploring the impact of literary icon Flannery O'Connor's noted legacy on the cultural realities of modern-day America, the world, and a certain author.
Yankee Doodle Daddy is a historical Appalachian Family Saga. The story follows a mother's reckoning as she struggles to survive and keep her four daughters alive.
