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Mom: The tomboy, the outcast
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by Zahra Abid
Well...maybe not every rule.
Growing up in a traditional Pakistani household, Mom was expected to fit the usual mould. Girls were taught to be polite, presentable, and eventually, an excellent candidate for marriage. You know the drill: learn to cook, keep the house tidy, behave yourself and- most importantly- dont come home with any stories that might give the aunties something to gossip about.
While her sisters, especially Shamime, were busy perfecting their makeup and embracing all the things that were considered appropriately 'girly', Mom was doing something slightly different; staying up late playing video games with her brothers.
Because apparently, nothing says 'respectable Pakistani daughter' quite like sneaking downstairs for another round while everyone else is asleep.
And yet, despite her slightly rebellious antics, Mom eventually did exactly what was expected of her. In the Winter of '95, she got married and settled into what was considered to be a traditional life. Husband, two children - just endless responsibilities.
Then came me and my twin. The turning point of her life. Or, as she would probably put it, the moment her peaceful existence came to a very sudden and permanent end.
For years, Mom lived what most people would call a 'normal' life. But somewhere along the way, something clicked. She looked around and decided she had spent enough time simply existing and not nearly enough time actually 'living'.
Mom has never really believed in doing things by halves, she decided to make up for lost time.
At the ripe old age of 50.
Suddenly, she was cycling. Then paddleboarding. Then playing tennis. Then swimming. Then, unless I have completely misunderstood what I witnessed - playing the guitar???
The aunties, of course, had thoughts.
There were the looks. The raised eyebrows. The silent analysing from across the room that somehow managed to communicate an entire paragraph without a single word being spoken.
But Mom didnt care.
If anything, I think the aunties' staring only encouraged her.
Because when Bushra or Abida from down the road starts looking at you like she's just discovered your second marriage, you know you're probably doing something right.
Mom has always had this funny ability to make the things she was once told were 'not for girls' look completely normal. She never set out to prove a point. She just wanted to try things and who knew she'd be so good at them.
And maybe that's what has stayed with her the most.
Because as her daughter, I grew up watching someone who had every reason to believe that life had a certain timeline - girlhood, marriage, children, responsibility, repeat - decide that actually, no.
There was still so much more to do.
Mom taught me that marriage doesn't have to be the end of your story. With the right person beside you, it can actually be the beginning of a completely different chapter. One where you can still be a wife and a mother while being your own person, too.
And to all the girls who have ever been called 'boyish' because they like things that supposedly aren't for girls: so what?
Ride the bike.
Play the sport.
Learn the guitar.
Stay up late playing video games - maybe not too late... trust me.
Do whatever makes you feel alive.
The worst that might happen is that an aunty gives you a strange look from three houses down.
And honestly? Let her.
Just remember to wash your dishes afterwards. I'm saying that from experience.
Mom, jokes aside, I'm incredibly proud of you. Not just because of everything you've done, but because you showed me that you don't have to stop becoming yourself just because you're someone's wife or someone's mom.
You can grow. You can change. You can discover new sides of yourself at 30,40,50, or beyond.
And if anyone had told the little girl secretly playing video games with her brothers that one day she'd be cycling, paddleboarding, swimming, playing tennis, and possibly attempting the guitar at 50+, I'm pretty sure she would've laughed.
Then she probably would've gone back to the video game.
So here's to Mom: the girl who never quite fit the mould, the woman who eventually stopped caring about it, and the person who taught me that there is no expiry date on having fun.
P.S. I am genuinely proud of my Mom. But someone has to keep her humble, so please don't tell her I said all of this. xxx'
Zahra _17
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