Nothing tortures my soul more than waiting. It drains me. It consumes me. It sucks all positivity out of me and replaces it with fear, anxiety, and dread that I have no words to explain. Hit me. Stab me. Abuse me. Rain curses on me. Deny me. Ignore me. Reject me. Murder me. Whatever you do to me, do not make me wait.
But when you are born a woman where I come from, the only thing you do all your life is wait.
You wait for a ship that will come and sail you away. A ship to take you home.
And the whole world prepares you for nothing except that journey.
Years ago, I thought of going on my sail, but the world said it was too early, the tide was not too good, and I did not have enough to sustain me on the journey.
I left the shores and forgot about sailing.
One day I went to the shore and saw a beautiful ship. Strong. Fast. Huge and eccentric. Everything I had wanted my ship to be. I got ready for the sail. I packed my suitcases and talked to the sailor. He agreed to make me his passenger. But I would also have to wait for him to prepare for the journey. I agreed. I waited. I prayed. I believed. I waited for my ship and believed all the excuses of the captain. He had no reason to lie. But the ship never came to shore, and somewhere along its sail, it sank. It sank into the sea, though I later learned, not on its way to me.
I mourned a ship that was never mine.
I left the shores and forgot about sailing.
I saw another ship I thought could carry me and my load. The captain came, checked me out, said of course, why not? When I turned, he had left without a word.
I left the shores and forgot about sailing.
But where I come from, sailing is not a choice but an obligation, and no matter how much you try to leave the shores, you must always come back and wait for a ship.
You cannot leave the shore and forget about sailing.
After ages of avoiding the shore, I went back again. This time however, I vowed not to wait. I got a ship. The sailor had wanted me on it all along, but when the time to sail came, I left the shore. The ship was good, but I wanted better. What is wrong with waiting for a little while more when you have been waiting all your life?
I left the shore amidst glares and accusations.
How come a girl raised here hates sailing this much?
Then a sailor came for me. Courageous. Lovely. With a ship ready to sail. Or so he said.
“Where is your ship?”
“It is at the other shore. It will come soon. There is no waiting for you anymore. I am tired of these shores too”
No waiting became years. I waited for that ship. Humbled by time. Telling myself it will take just a day more. Every day I go to the shore and await its arrival. I even left my luggage on the shore.
I played on the sand by the shores. I watched other passengers get on their ships and sail away. Even those that came after me. Even those that were babies when I first started waiting. I prayed for the safe arrival of my ship.
And where I come from, you can never get on a ship that is not yours. No matter how long it takes, you must wait for the ship that was meant for you.
While I waited, another sailor came and asked that I get on his ship.
“My ship is here, sail with me”
It was the most outstanding ship I have ever seen. The sailor a captain sent by the heavens themselves.
“But I have given my word to the other sailor that went to bring his ship”
“Do not sail on that ship, it has cracks. You might drown on the way”.
Where I come from, you don’t just trade ships, when you vow to follow one, you must, unless the world agreed you should not.
“Okay, I will get on your ship now. The other sailor is gone for good”
“Well, I am not sure when I will be able to sail too. The tides are not so good. I have another passenger on board. There may not be enough room for you”
The sailor has not left. I am at the shore too.
But what am I waiting for?
Maybe I should just swim.
Who said I must sail anyway?
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