An early delving of mine would be my long relationship with my eye, or eyes. Growing up with Muslim parents, I never thought or dreamed that one day I’d be on a stage, singing, playing an instrument, in front of an audience. I was a very hyper child. It didn’t take a genius to diagnose me with ADHD. I moved a lot, and girl did I love moving my feet, and dancing. Sitting still was like a punishment. I wanted to hear a beat, and move my feet. School was torture, and some teachers were bothered by my presence. They let me take so many walks so they can teach. I skipped, moved my feet, and did the running man. It was the 90’s, I saw MC Hammer doing it quite frequently on T.V. I was my only audience, in a locked bedroom. Hell, my mama didn’t even know I was listening to music. I always put my headphones on. I owned a walkman, for cassettes, and a Kenwood discman, for CD’s of course. When mother heard me humming in my room, she’s knock on my door, asking me who I’m talking to. She didn’t know what kind of music albums I owned. She just told me that music was the devil’s psalms. Mom even told me the most disturbing things, as she’s a neurotic religious woman. She would tell me things like, you know the devil is dancing on your shoulder when you listen & dance to that music! Only prayer can wear off the devil. As I grew older, Mama didn’t mind me belly- dancing at weddings, because a. only females were watching, and b. some mother might think I’m pretty and ask me to marry her son. She allowed me, and encouraged me. And when I asked her, what about the devil dancing on my shoulder? She said that God didn’t intend for me to die a spinster, so dancing would help me grab the attention of guests in order for me to be seen, get engaged and be married. Besides, according to mother, I danced better than I spoke. I was too blunt, and spoke my mind too much in a conservative and strict society. Poor mother wasn’t aware that I was mainly approached by queer and lesbian women at these segregated events and occasions. I don’t remember a single other mother wanting me to marry her son, and for that I felt lucky. The last thing I want is for me to be a proper Muslim girl, a good housewife and daughter-in-law to some random religious woman, like my mama. Years passed, and here I am living in a western city, no longer in the East. Going to parties with both males, and females. Yet, I can’t believe that I am performing on stages, and being applauded by a crowd. Was it my mere projection? Was it my eyes? Since a very young age, I looked at myself in the mirror and performed. I sang. I danced. I was holding a hair comb instead of a mic. People have commented about my performance and said, your voice isn’t that powerful, but you do a have a presence on stage. I think it was because of that inner child in me gazing at the mirror, at my reflection, performing. It’s truly magical how a child’s will and desire can manifest.