“There is only one, only one skill a woman like you and me needs in life, and they don’t teach it in school… Only one skill. And it’s this: tahamul. Endure…”

When I was young, my mother always told me I needed to be strong.  I learned how to cope with adversities and hardships in my life quite easily and I was rarely ever phased by anything. I watched my mother go through hell and I saw how persistent she was in whatever she did and how she kept a smile on her face everyday. From my early years in life, I knew I was going to be just like her. When I was younger, strength was as simple as not crying when I fell of my bike or if I scraped my elbow or knee from playing soccer and hockey. As I grew older, strength became a mental battle. It was not letting what someone had said to me get to my head.  This mental conflict was the first time I couldn’t be strong. Allowing myself be vulnerable when I was being bullied, I saw myself as weak. I never stood up for myself out of fear and I cried a lot. Where did my strength go? I never told my mom about many things because I thought she would see me as weak. I thought I betrayed her after the countless amount of times she told me to persist and persevere. I watched my mother work a minimum wage paying job and I watched how much she sacrificed for my brother and I. All the stories my mom told me about her childhood and teenage years when she had provide for her family after her own mother’s injury; she was so strong. But all my youth mind could think was: Why am I not like her?

After reading the quote in the novel, I had to pause. It was the last few words of a chapter. I put the book down and let myself absorb what I had just read. It was a blow to my chest and all the air in my lungs rushed out. The second I read the word endure, I thought of strength. I thought about my mother; the amount she had endured in her life and how much strength she must have needed to overcome her struggles. I saw the parallelism in my mother and Mariam’s mother, and myself and Mariam. We were both taught something by our mothers that would never be taught in school. Both our life lessons were given by someone who endured and conquered adversities. Mariam’s life lesson had come in effect early. Being married to an older man while she was young; I cannot fathom how that would feel. All I feel when reading Mariam’s life story is bile wanting to project out of my mouth. All I can think is that my parents left their home country so I would not have to deal with anything similar or know anybody personally who did. They left India so I could have a chance to be something I wanted to be. They were the ones that endured. My father, working many minimum wage jobs, sometimes twice a day, is the strongest man I know. He endured everything for his children, just so he could put food in our mouths. He went from working hard, laborious jobs to owning two businesses. My mother, staying up all those nights, me not knowing what she had to endure when she was pregnant with my brother and then me; only for her to tell me that I was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. I owe a lot to my parents. Their strength and perseverance is the most underlying reason as to how strong I am myself.

“I believe in love at first sight because I’ve been loving my mother since I opened my eyes.”

~Unknown

Writing this today, I reflect on my life. I thought I was weak because I cried. I thought I was weak because I let other kids beat me up. I thought I was weak because I let other kids steal my things. But now, I think differently. I was never weak. I was strong because I could cry. I was strong because I didn’t fight back or retaliate. I was strong because my mother taught me how to be strong. I was strong, and I never knew it.

Mariam’s suffering was her ultimate sign of strength. The strength Mariam must’ve had in order to sacrifice her own life for the betterment of others. The hardships she overcame in her life reminds me of my mother. Strength and suffering. My goal in life is to be as strong as these two women. Through my own life experiences with my mother and through reading Mariam’s life, I truly know what strength and enduring is. A woman in this world must always be strong. She must always endure what men do not have to. In light of the recent Stanford rape, it just goes to show how strong a woman must be. We are told boys will be boys, we are told not to dress provocatively, and we are told how to react when a male approaches us. But why aren’t men told that women are not objects? Why do some men not understand the concept of the word ‘no’? Why are some men not told to control themselves around women? Why do some men do whatever they want because they are male and they feel that they are superior? When did our society become so corrupt? A woman must always endure and have strength, but when did it come to this?

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