I felt like I was catching up with a friend while I read Malala describe settling into life in Birmingham, then her college years at Oxford, including how she coped with what was later diagnosed as PTSD, and she met and married her husband Asser.
My impression is that Malala is at a place of acceptance and peace in her life. She comes across as friendly and gracious and just one of us really. That's not to downplay her truly challenging journey, but rather to say that I am truly happy for her as she seems genuinely happy with her life.
I loved how Malala describes her clothing for university – “Delicious floral patterns that could make you dizzy if you stared at them too long. Black, ivory and tan were out of the question because, according to her [mum], neutrals were a waste of good fabric.”
Malala writes, “My scarves reminded me of home and helped me connect to a world I had lost. No matter what the misogynists or Islamophobes said, I wanted girls in Pakistan to know that I had not forgotten them.”
I got a chuckle out of Malala's criteria for a possible suitor. She writes, “My knees went weak at the sight of a dark beard, wooly forearms and tufts of chest hair poking out of a shirt.”
When describing Asser’s attributes, “Most of all, I loved his kind and gentle heart.”
Her mum is aghast at the idea of her sharing her favourite wedding photo as “a photo showing any physical contact between a man and a woman, even a husband and wife, is prohibited.”
However, after much thought she decides to share the photo worldwide stating, “I wanted my community to see that men can show affection for their wives, that devotion and love are the highest forms of honour.” Wow! I love this.
“My life with Asser is one of freedom and joy.” She truly seems to have found a sense of peace and belonging in where she is today.
Her final words in this book, “Do not lose hope.”