The Price of Love

It’s May again, and Egypt feels a thousand miles away,

Beyond the reach of everything I’m terrified to say.

Your other daughter sent the messages, she asked the reasons why,

While I sat in the shadows, watching all the years go by.

"How did I make you feel like a stranger in your home?"

I followed every map you drew, no matter where I’d roam.

I liked the things you told me to, I hushed my own desires,

To be the daughter you required, through all the silent fires.

I am not the one who calls you just to fill a greedy hand,

I am not the one who wants the toys or riches of the land.

I played those games of Uno just to sit within your light,

To be your favorite—just for once—before the end of night.

"Where is my strong young lady?" was the title that you gave,

But the divorce has left me tired, and I’m finding it hard to be brave.

The girl you knew has vanished, she is hollowed out and thin,

She cries for her religion and the grief she’s drowning in.

You promised me a secret, but you gave that gift away,

You chose the words of others over what I had to say.

You believe the lies they tell you, you believe that I am cold,

While I’m just shy and broken, trying hard to keep my hold.

I’m grateful for the money, Dad, it keeps us safe and fed,

But it cannot tuck me into sleep or soothe the aching head.

I don't want toys or treasures, or the things that money buys,

I just want the father back who saw the person in my eyes.

I have to go, it's late now, and the house is very still,

I’ll love you from a distance, since I’ve lost the strength of will.

Maybe by next Ramadan, you’ll let me through the door,

And love me for the girl I am—not the mask I wore.

I only started wearing the mask when he asked me never to come back to his house.

My inspiration is a letter I wrote for my dad that I still haven't sent:

Dear Dad,

It’s May 4th. Sakinah probably already texted you about why you don’t want us to come to Egypt. I heard a couple of things while she was on the phone, and it left me with a question: How did I make you feel like I was just a stepdad?

If it was the way I spoke or acted, I don’t understand. Mom told us to like everything you liked and to like everything Miss Shamsa liked. Was it the fact that we didn’t have our own opinions and just went along with whatever you liked?

Was it because I didn’t talk to you much? I have an explanation for that, too. I am introverted and shy around everyone. I am even shy around you, though I don’t know why. I just haven’t felt loved by you in a long time. I felt like you didn't love me anymore, so I stopped communicating.

I am grateful that you still send money to Mom so she can take care of us. I am truly grateful for the financial support you send. I just don’t feel loved. Just because you give us money doesn’t make me feel cared for. I actually want to be loved by you, not by your money.

I am not Jannah, who wants tons of gifts. I am not Zahrah, who only calls you to ask for money. I am not Hayyan or Zaid, who want money to buy toys. I want to be loved for who I am, not for the money you can offer.

Dad, I tried my best to be your favorite and to love you the way I thought you loved me. But you broke my heart this Ramadan—especially the situation with the contact info, and how you told Miss Shamsa after you promised you wouldn’t. You believed the other kids when they said I disrespected her, which I never did.

I played Uno with you just so we could bond. You said you loved me, but deep down, I saw what you really meant. Dad, I bet if you had to choose between Miss Shamsa and me, you would choose her.

Ever since the divorce, I haven't been strong. Remember when you used to call me "Layyinah, my strong young lady"? Well, things have changed. I cry a lot now because of the divorce, because of you, and because of my struggles with my religion. I don’t cry when Mom gets mad at me, but Dad, it hurts so much more when you put me in trouble or get angry with me.

I have to go now. I love you, Dad. I hope I can see you next Ramadan, if you allow it.