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My Story by Tasar Isskreah

Tasar Isskreah

June 2020 is the Female Wave of Change Story telling month: Stories matter and we want you to share yours! Today Tasar Isskreah, originally from Syria,  shares her story about the golden scars in her heart.

The Golden Scars of my Heart

“Tasar is my name. When I was little, I was ashamed to say my name because my father had invented my name himself. Later I realized how unique my name is. Saying my name a lot has made me proud of my name and pronounce it as if I am saying a poem.

I fled to the Netherlands 3 years ago

I am 45 years old and I fled to the Netherlands three years ago. I have a temporary residence permit and I live with my two sons in Langedijk. My husband is stuck in Dubai. He cannot leave the country because his passport has been taken. The chance that my children will ever see their father again is small. The war in Syria has taken its toll. My brother is dead. My brother-in-law is dead. My father is dead and I really miss my mother who is still in Syria.

Every setback makes me stronger

When I was little I heard a story about a rock. The rock was hit 99 times and the rock did not break yet. Until the hundredth stroke, then the rock broke into a thousand pieces. I am like this rock. I can break too, but now every setback makes me stronger. When I look in the mirror in the morning I sometimes wonder who I am. Am I strong or vulnerable, a dreamer or a realist, cheerful or dejected, a go-getter or a giver? Whatever it is, one thing I know for sure: I am a barrel full of contradictions.

I am the main character in the drama of my life and yet I see life as a gift. There are days when I go to bed crying and wake up laughing the next morning. After rain comes sunshine and vice versa.

Once I saw a movie, Leon The Professional. The main character in this film is a hitman. When he is on a mission and he is staying somewhere temporary, he has a plant in a pot and he takes it always with him. When he died, his last wish was for his plant to be put in the ground to have roots. I feel like that plant, which is now in Dutch soil. I grew up in Syria, married in Dubai and fled to the Netherlands with my children. I don’t know if my future is here. I would like to take roots somewhere.

Be proud of your scars

Everything happens for a reason. A few years ago I saw a video of a vlogger. “Be proud of your scars.” I watched the video over and over again.

Scars come in all shapes and sizes. Some are physical and visible, others are emotional, invisible.

When something is broken, it is generally thrown away. In Japan, a “kintsugi” is reassembled by reconnecting the shards with gold glue. Something that is broken gets a history and becomes more beautiful. This also applies to people.

Sometimes something has to break in order to become even more beautiful

Close your eyes and imagine your life as a unique ceramic vase. Perhaps that vase is in pristine condition, the colour may have faded or there are already some small cracks. Or maybe he’s lying on the floor in pieces. You can leave the vase in pieces on the floor, or glue them together with gold. Any vase can be repaired. Just like any life. Scars are not ugly and nothing to be ashamed of.

There comes a time in your life when you look back on your trials and realize that they have helped make you the person you can be proud of. Sometimes something has to break in order to become even more beautiful. “

At night in bed, I break up to pieces and doubt if I can be repaired. As soon as I get up in the morning, I glue myself back together. Then I am ready to take on a new challenge.”

Tasar Isskreah gave Female Wave of Change permission to share her story

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