My mom has endured a lot in her life. She grew up without her father and was raised by her older brother and her mother. They were very poor and struggled to make a life in a small village outside Tanta, Egypt. She never had the privilege to finish school or go off to college, instead, she was married off to my dad although I don't think it was against her will. My parents flew to the U.S. because my dad had plans to resume his life and raise a family out here. I'm not sure why. My mom was 20 years younger than my dad. He had a masters, served in the Egyptian army, and worked as a mechanical engineer. He was a very smart man, but extremely self-centered and stubborn. My mom didn't speak a word of English, she didn't work or have a car, and she had absolutely no family or friends here. She was completely dependent on my dad in going out socially, having some money to spend, and just leaving the house in general. He was very controlling. My sister was born and than came me and my brothers Omar and Ali. We were born just a year apart except for Ali, he was behind Omar by two years. So here you have this young woman with 4 young children to care and raise for. My mother didn't have many outlets or opportunities to raise us in the way in which she would have liked to. She cooked, she cleaned, and she cared for us. My dad worked and made the rules. She was unhappy because it was very overwhelming for her and my father wasn't exactly the most supportive or respectful kind of guy. He treated her not as an equal. When they fought, my dad would put his hands on my mom and it always turned ugly. I remember frequent visits to our apartment by the police. My mom grew cold and bitter towards my dad. She had no one to turn to. Overtime, she got tired of the my dads treatment of her and slowly she started to make changes in her life to take more control of the situation. She started socializing and making friends in town who, later, would help her to learn to speak better English and get a job. My mom walked everywhere to get to where she needed to go or she would ask a friend for a ride. She scrapped up any money that she could and started selling stretch pants around town. I remember in the mornings when she walked us to school and we'd have to line up outside the building, she would go around to all the moms and sell them these pants. She was able to save money and, in time, she learned how to drive, got her license, and bought a car. She wanted to break free from my dad. As a young girl, I remember being excited for my dad to get home from work. My siblings and I would wait right at the door and listen for the keys. I viewed him as my hero. He always broke the rules and I thought it was daring and exciting. I was afraid of him at times but more afraid of my mom. I just remember her being so angry and aggressive. She would always take out her frustrations on us but it wasn't her fault. She was so lost and helpless. My dad would always shield us from her hostility. We didn't understand it all then. I do recall the moments where my mom held me and hugged me and made me feel safe in her arms. She's never been treated right by a man. She's never been loved the right way, respected as a woman, nurtured, or supported the way a man should support a woman. My parents divorced when we became adults. They were separated long before. My mother has come a long way. I now understand, as a single mother, what she endured and the sacrifices she made for us. I wish my father stepped up more as a husband and a father. Everything he did was based on whether or not he'd benefit from it. He treated my mom like a servant instead of like a queen in which she is. My brother's adopted a lot of the ways in how my dad treats women. Its disgusting. They are not considerate of my mother. My father doesn't realize this, but our family is plagued because of him. I don't look up to him anymore, I look up to my mother for being strong all these years. Aside from all this, I love both my parents dearly.