Worthless

It took me years to finally comprehend the fact that, in the eyes of everyone else, I meant nothing. It took me years to build up the courage to stand up for myself and understand that I was worth something. To understand that I didn't need their approval. And years more to write this story about my life and share it with the world.

My name is Jamila Malik, and this is my story. A story about all the struggles I had to go through because of my religion to get to where I am today. I wrote this story to share my struggles with the rest of the world and to tell you all that life may be rough, but so are we. Why should you care what other people think about you? You don't need their approval.

It all started in high school. Year after year, day after day, I was treated like garbage. Pretty soon, I got sick of the twisted way they treated me. I got sick of them constantly telling me that I was irrelevant, stupid, ugly, annoying, and worthless. Worthless.

It hurt more and more every day. More than you could ever imagine.

Late in my junior year, my Mom told me to attend a talk by Edward Smith where he would talk about a person's self-worth.

"I don't want to go to that," I said to my Mom as I pulled my bed cover over my head. "It's worthless, just like me."

My Mom went quiet for two minutes.

"Young Lady! You are going to that talk, and this is exactly why! I didn't carry you in my stomach for nine months, change your diapers, and raise you so that you could mope around all day and call yourself worthless!"

"I said I don't want to go-"

"And I said you're going!" She threw my covers on the floor. "Now get dressed."

At the time, I hated the idea of listening to some random guy blab around about my self-worth. After all, what did he know about me? Little did I know, that this talk would change my life forever.

I remember that day like it was yesterday. I got dressed in my favorite outfit at the time: black sweatpants, a coral-colored sweatshirt, and a black hijab--a headscarf that is worn by Muslim women.

The car ride there was silent. The air was tense between my Mom and me.

"Jamila, promise me you'll be open-minded about this. You could really learn something."

"I don't want to learn something," I complained.

"Well, you better remember at least three points that really resonated with you cause if you don't, I'll take your phone away."

"Hmph. Whatever," I said as I got out of the car.

I made my way into the auditorium where the talk would take place and sat down way in the back where nobody could pick on me.

Two girls sat down in the row in front of me. "Ugh, I don't want to be here. My Dad is forcing me to listen to this guy so I can 'learn my worth' whatever that means."

It was at that moment that I felt ashamed of the way I acted towards my Mom. I realized that she only wanted what was best for me, and so I decided to actually listen to what this guy had to say.

"Alright guys," Edward Smith said as he walked towards the middle of the stage. "I'm not going to pretend that I know you guys, because I really don't. I don't know your name, birthday, age, favorite food, your true intentions when doing something. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Nada. Now, I may know some of your names--maybe you're one of my friends--but overall, I don't know you. I'm not going to talk around about how you are or aren't worth something--I'm going to show you. After all, I am a man of action."

I was so fascinated by how he started his talk that I scrambled around for a pen and paper. When I couldn't find one I tried to record it on my phone but it died when I opened it so I stood up and asked the ladies in front of me for their phone so I could record it and send it to myself.

"Back off, freak. There's no way I would give my phone to somebody like you." They got up and moved to a different seat.

"Excuse me, Miss," I heard Edward Smith say. "You, in the back, with the coral sweatshirt and hijab."

I looked up. He was talking to me. I pointed a finger at myself just to be sure.

"Yes you," he said with a laugh. "Do you mind coming up on the stage? I have a gut feeling that you would be a great example."

As I made my way to the stage, I tripped on myself and fell down with everybody's eyes on me. Some people laughed. My face turned red with embarrassment and I didn't want to get up.

"Are you all right." I looked up and a lady was looming over me with her hand held out. "Don't think about anyone else right now, alright?"

I nodded my head and she helped me up. She sat back in her seat while I got up on the stage.

"I'm going to ask you questions," Edward Smith said, "and I want you to give me honest answers, alright? Otherwise, this won't have any effect."

"Okay," I said quietly.

"Now, I don't know a single thing about this young lady, but I can tell that when other people talk smack about you, you take it to heart. Am I right?"

I nodded my head.

"And may I ask what you do in your free time?"

"I-I volunteer."

"At..."

"I volunteer at the Children's Hospital. Every other week, I sit down with a couple of kids and talk with them and have fun."

"Wonderful! Do you help your parents at home?"

"Yes."

"Do you like animals?"

"I love animals. Cats in particular."

"This may seem like a personal question, but if you mind my asking, do you wear any makeup?"

"None."

"Now, what do those bullies say about you that takes away your confidence?"

"To sugar-coat it, irrelevant, stupid, ugly, annoying, and... worthless."

"And why on earth, would you listen to those people when they don't know you?"

I struggled to respond.

He turned to the audience.

"Now I have questions for all of you to answer. Is this young lady irrelevant?"

"No!" The audience replied.

"Does she seem stupid?"

"No!"

"Is she ugly?"

"No!"

"Is she annoying?"

"No!"

"Is she worthless, for helping out the people in need and being there for her family?"

"NO!"

"Now, Miss, who else knows about what you do and has gotten to know you?"

"Just my family."

"Now I ask again. Why on earth do you listen to those people when they haven't got the slightest clue as to who you are? We all just met you and yet we couldn't be more impressed. Am I right?"

"YES!" the audience roared with approval.

"I-I don't know."

"Let me tell you why, Miss. You yearn for other people's approval--we all do. And there is nothing wrong with that. But you don't need everyone's approval, just a few good people. Sometimes, you only have to look in the mirror and you'll find the only approval you need. You have to know that your value doesn't decrease based on someone's inability to see your true worth. Not everyone is going to like you, and not everyone is going to hate you. That's reality. Maybe you just want to feel important when you already are! How many people put a smile on those kids' faces at the hospital? It's definitely not the doctor coming in to give a needle. It's you, Miss. And not many people have such an amazing opportunity."

That feeling of importance that I felt after he said that was indescribable. I would give anything, pay any amount, just to feel that feeling again.

When I went home that night, I hugged both of my parents and broke down into tears.

"It was that bad, huh?" My Mom asked.

"What happened?" My Dad asked.

"It was amazing," I replied through sniffles. "It was probably one of the best things that ever happened to me."

"Then why are you crying?" My Mom asked confused.

"Because he made me realize that I wasted most of my life trying to get approval from other people when the only approval I need is yours. Anyone who sees me as garbage because I'm a Muslim can see me as whatever they want. They aren't worth the worry. He also made me realize how important you guys are to me and I'm sorry for being such a pain to you guys. Thank you for pushing me to go to this. I love you guys so, so much."

"Oh sweetie," my Mom wiped her eyes and hugged me tighter. "We love you too. We know that when we push you to do things you may not like them, but we only have your best interests at heart. We just want what's best for you."

"Exactly," said my Dad. "Don't ever forget that we love you more than this entire world and everything in it."

We cried and hugged for five minutes.

I wiped my tears. "I need to go write everything down before I forget it. Do any of you guys have a pen and notebook?"

"I got you, Jamila," my Dad said as he pulled a pen and notebook out of a drawer.

I wrote for hours and hours. Once I finished, I looked at the clock and it was 2:16 AM.

That notebook reminds me of the lesson I learned. I read it every single night so that I never forget the lesson that Edward Smith taught me: "Your value doesn't decrease based on someone's inability to see your true worth. Not everyone is going to like you, and not everyone is going to hate you. That's reality."

Every day I thank Edward Smith. My book is dedicated to him. I'm grateful to the girls who sat in front of me for making me stand up and ask for their phone. I am grateful to all the people who bullied me. I am grateful to every single bad moment in my life that led up to this great one. Because of those moments, whether good or bad, they made me who I am today. After all, this is God's plan. And God's plan is perfect, despite what we may think of it.

Yes, I struggled. But those struggles were worth it. Yes, I lost my way, but it was worth it because I found my way again. All those moments that brought me down, made me rise higher. I stayed strong through the storm and made it to the rainbow.

Every time I reflect on my past, I think of the one moment where I begged my Mom to let me stay at home and not attend the talk. Then I ask myself, what would I be like if she didn't force me to go to that talk? Where would I be, if Edward Smith didn't give it? And what would have happened had I not attended that talk?