zum geburtstag viel glück

lima puluh delapan tahun sudah ia berdiri tuk menyaksikan.

menyaksikan awal hingga puncak, tangis dan tawa, keringat dan kebanggaan. berulang-ulang selama berpuluh-puluh generasi. menyaksikan siklus demi siklus, perubahan demi perubahan. menyaksikan pejuang-pejuang tangguh yang berjalan cepat di sepanjang koridornya. pun melingkar, berstrategi, dan berbagi tawa di setiap sudutnya. menyaksikan setiap kepanikan dan debaran hati, pelukan dan bisikan "semangat" hingga "selamat". menyaksikan mereka (yang beruntung untuk mendapat tiga tahun berharga berproses di tempat ini) menemukan jati diri dan mengukir cita. menghantarkan setiap hati yang terlepas dari kewajiban memakai putih abuabu siap untuk terjun ke dunia, menjadi orang di bidangnya masing-masing. orang-orang yang membawa perubahan bagi ibu pertiwi yang semakin menangis. manusia-manusia ikhlas pengemban amanah, bukan budak harta yang tidak ambil pusing soal ribuan keluarga yang meratap memohon di bawah kakinya.

selamat ulang tahun smalaku. tetaplah menjadi dinding yang mendengar dan melihat dalam diammu. tetaplah menjadi atap yang menaungi perjuangan para calon pemimpin peradaban. tetaplah menjadi rumah untuk kami pulang.

selamat berkomentar (di balik punggung)

hmm emang salah banget ta
ya iya se salah
tapi pandanganmu mesti terpatok pada satu hal gitulo
padahal kan butuh lihat dari jauh juga, lihat big picturenya
keseluruhannya

kalo mau jujur-jujuran se
sebenernya
cuma nggak ngerasa belong

simpel ya
gaada pembelaan kok
emang salah
maaf

memang seharusnya ya lebih adaptif
tapi udah capek nyoba fit in
berusaha menjadi lebih seperti mereka, yang bukan diriku
bukan juga orang yang aku ingin diriku menjadi
yasudah, selama aku bahagia, dari luar juga asyik

we are two opposite polars who don't know how to complement each other

The Sane World

do you remember when we were small?

when we still got shines in our eyes and dreams in our head

when there were still backyards and hidden tracks to explore with curiosity

where have all that dreams gone? – and all that sparks?

it was sold off

to adults, to this town of madness, to the cruelty we’ve seen, to the stories we were told, to pragmatism, to the world, to the system

how did it all start? – we wondered

it started off with realism

when we were old enough and we told them about our dreams with passions in our eyes, they said

“Be realistic”
with a light chuckle while their eyes still fixated on their paperwork

and when we got that “Be realistic”s from so many mouths, we came to believe it

we dismissed our childhood desires to go to the moon or to build underwater rockets because it’s not “real”

we determined our life paths by ways that were walked over by thousands of people each year

it’s like an endless cycle

we became robots with the same routines everyday

we were told that success is measured by income

and happiness is measured by money

we became the person we said we'd never became

we do things that we know are wrong – but do it anyway because people around us seem to see no problem to it

“Easy, child, we’ve been doing it for years, and so did people before us, and it’s totally fine. It’s like tradition”

so instead of innovating changes, we settle for all these “traditions” because they're welcomed by society

we silence children’s creativity and teenagers’ act of freedom, when all they're searching for are themselves

we silence children’s insights and teenagers’ love

by saying tons of “you don’t know what you’re talking about, you haven’t known the world yet’ and  “it’s useless”

we forget how it felt to be them - to have things that were important to us as a child ignored by adults 

we swore we would never be like our parents - yet after all these years we became exactly like them

we are adults who were treated this way when we were children

who now treat our children the same

whose children will do the same to their children

we are blind and blinding them – although we called it growing them

this system is killing us and we need to put a stop to it

we are human – breathing, walking, alive human

we need to travel and be connected with people and nature

we are not robots, and we don’t grow robots

we feel things, simple things

like how the winds felt in our skin

or the way the smell of a chicken soup makes you feel nostalgic

or those heartwarming moments when you're talking to animals

we will not kill anymore thoughts

and we will not silence anyone’s voice

we refuse to brainwash people with the overpraise of this “flawless” system

we are responsible for the next generations

and we shall make a change

Tidak Takut Aku Berhujan-Hujan

Dua kaki menjejak tanah
Berdiri di bawah semesta-Nya
Dengan tetesan air hujan yang perlahan berubah menjadi guyuran
Air langit merasuk ke jahitan benang katun yang disulam rapih pada ujung-ujungnya
Dinginnya menembus kulit menuju daging kemudian ke tulang
Alam mendadak sepi
Manusia-manusia yang riuh rendah berlomba mendominasi udara sibuk menyelamatkan dirinya masing-masing
Ke kendaraan beroda empat mereka pergi
Tergesa tiba di rumah untuk menapak ke gelembung zona nyaman
Aman dari seribu marabahaya yang dapat mencelakai nyawa
Ke bawah atap emperan sisanya berlindung
Menunggu dengan hati tak sabar dan wajah ditekuk karena sebentar lagi pukul tiga sore
Waktunya menjemput si buah hati
Aku berdiri di bawah guyuran hujan dengan mata tertutup hati terbuka
Kurasakan jiwaku mulai melayang – kakiku tidak lagi menjejak tanah
Kurasakan setiap tetes air yang mendarat di tubuh
Kurasakan dengan penghayatan bagaimana tetes demi tetes menggelincir ke bagian tubuh yang lain, lalu berakhir jatuh di tanah, bersatu membentuk genangan pada cekungan dangkal
Kuserapi dalam-dalam nikmat Tuhan yang belum tentu datang esok hari, berusaha mengingat-ingat rasanya hujan sebelum ditarik kembali oleh Sang Penguasa
Dingin memang – tetapi kurasakan kehangatan menyelimuti jiwa
Kelegaan yang kurasakan karena bisa menangis lagi – setelah bertahun-tahun hidup dalam kedataran emosi dan hati mati rasa
Airmata yang bercampur dengan air hujan
Derasnya sama-sama, satu dari langit Sang Pencipta, satunya dari hati paling dalam yang telah lama memenjarakan airmata – sangat lama hingga aku lupa bagaimana rasanya menangis, lupa rasa tercekik di tenggorokan yang kemudian disusul dengan dorongan mahadahsyat airmata. Lupa bahwa pernah suatu masa aku mengeluarkan cairan asin dari inderaku, mengalir dengan bebas di kedua pipi
“Gadis kecil, berlindunglah!”
“Hey, kamu bisa sakit”
“Hati-hati, anginnya kencang” peringat mereka
Aku bukan pengendali angin
Tidak pernah aku menjadi seseorang tahan banting, imun terhadap sakit
Tapi aku tak peduli
Hujan – seperti segala perkara di dunia fana ini – kontradiktif bukan?
Memiliki sisi yang bukan satu
Yang baik untuk satu merupakan tak baik untuk yang lain
Berita baik untuk ular merupakan berita buruk untuk tikus
Aku yang menjalankan aku
Tidak semua saran baik untukku hanya karena itu baik untuk sebagian orang
Mengapa tidak membiarkan insting membimbingku dalam ketidakpastian? Aku sadar hati lebih tahu dari yang aku bersedia akui, hati lebih bisa dipercaya untuk menuntunku dalam gelap
Hati bisa membedakan benar-salah
Tetapi kuacuhkan ia dan dengan rela kuserahkan ragaku untuk dituntun orang yang sama butanya denganku
Jadi mengapa tidak kulakukan – berdiri di bawah hujan – jika hujan ini membuatku hidup?
Membuatku kembali dapat merasakan – tidakkah dingin sekalipun lebih baik daripada tidak merasa apapun?
Membuatku menjadi “manusia” kembali, bukan sebuah mesin yang terus melakukan rutinitas tanpa arti
Mengapa orang merasa lebih baik hidup tetapi mati – dibandingkan mati tetapi pernah hidup?

One's Idea of "Life"

Women’s idea of ideal future:

-Beautifully tailored clothes

-Wealthy, handsome, loyal husband

-A 5-star-quality house

-Don't have to work but have enough money to spend on expensive things

-Perfect hair and skin

-Filling life’s emptiness with luxurious things

-Drive a benz

-Living on a high-end street close to busy shopping center (SoHo, etc), have connections with important people

MY dream future:

-I really want to be a career woman. To have a job that’s meaningful for me, that I have passion for. To spend my time doing something I really like and earn money at the same time. I want to contribute establishment to my family, be independent and reliable instead of wasting money without earning it.

-A respectful, full-of humor husband that I have strong connection to.

A husband is a life-partner, someone I will be going home to for the rest of my life. I just want my future husband to be comfortable with me, as I to him. Honesty will be number one rule in our house. We will share every feeling, every tears, every laughter together and not be fake just to please each other. We won’t be hiding and pretending under a high pile of money, education degrees, a big smile, casual lies, and any temporary happiness. We will spend some nights talking until the sun comes out. We will get under each other’s past, fears, insecurities, dreams, weaknesses, secrets, little things that make our hearts wrenched, quotes that resonates deep within our soul, songs that remind us of our teenage years, our favorite childhood memories, and other important things. We will have tea in our balcony and share comfortable silence as we watch the sun goes down. We will paint our house bright and make it feel like home. We will grow old and continue to share stories we’ve never heard even though we spend fifty years open up to each other.

-Living somewhere near the beach in an exotic little house

A place where we don’t need to escape, and everyday would be like a holiday. Somewhere I don’t feel like having to maintain my ego and expected to live the way other people do. Somewhere I won’t have to witness daily fakeness on social medias, where I don’t feel the need to post family photo eating on a fancy cafe just to show people how happy my family and marriage are (while strangers commenting things they don’t mean and talk behind our backs). Somewhere away from people’s judgement, marriage standards, and normalities of living. Somewhere I will be busy living life, instead of busy creating one that’s adored by society.

-Have kids and really spending a lot of time with them, raise them right, getting to know them

Having kids are easy, being a mother is not. Feed them is easy, having emotional bond with them is not. I won’t shower my kids with gifts and money, but I will stay beside them for as long as I can. I don’t wanna be a mother who gives my child a big, cool room but never bother to know my child’s favorite color. I will spend my time listening as my kids babble about their toys, their friends, the story inside their heads, their dreams at night, and what they wanna be when they grow up. I will give them ideas at school projects and compliment them when their work is done. I’ll let them have as many space for creativity and personality development. I will never make my kids feel less of a normal person just because they’re shy or hyperactive. We will learn new languages and cook together. When they’re seventeen and having a hard time and want to be gone, we will talk and I will not judge, because I get through seventeen once. You can talk and pour your heart out about boys, bad grades, a fight with your best friend, your first time of smoking, and I will listen. I will tell you of your importance and we will drive until the sky turns magenta while your heart begins to heal and you begin to grow. We will hug at least once a day. And by the time you’re off to marry someone, we know all about each other, I’ll be your ears when you need to vent about everything and your shoulder when you need to cry.

-I’m down with some struggle in the beginning. It’s actually funner and worthier than being with an already-established-man. Starting everything from 0, building a house together, first jobs, collecting wealth little by little. The truth is, struggle glued people together.

-Help people in need and not be blind to our social condition

I want to have enough money to travel, to see people, to learn new cultures. Visit third-world countries, see India, feed hungry kids in Africa. I don’t want to be stuck-up in the city life with a benz and gucci clothes where no wealth is enough, while people on the other side of the world struggles to find clean water and have to die slowly and painfully because of hunger.

-Grow old feeling content and having no regret

Relieved because I get through life without bringing any harm to other people, have strong connection to people that mean a lot to me, having a life full of stories to tell and lessons to learn. Feel at ease and proud because I got off the roller coaster of life; messy, but worth it.

++ I think the worst future I can think of is living my life as a lie. I wouldn’t dare to imagine myself be stuck on an unhappy marriage but having to pretend to be happy for the rest of my life. I pray my hardest I won’t turn out to have a life like the one in Nannies Diaries, Into The Wild, and Blue Jasmine. It’s honestly worse than anything else, even poorness and poverty.

A Little Peek

*I don't usually tell personal things and throw information about myself to strangers on internet, but I get this feeling of being misunderstood for a long time. And since I can't really express myself verbally, I tried to write about it. It's a voice of a few people that feels the same way as I do. I hope you catch the idea of the real me - not the ones people talk about. It's kinda a long post, and I really appreciate it if you give your time to read it. Enjoy!*

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I’ve been a highly sensitive person (HSP) since as long as I can recall. My mother told me I was so hard to handle as a baby. I always cried hard for a long time with extreme body movements when given some stimulations and seemed to have a huge need of affection. Back at the early days, I looked like a curious, serious thinker that can't relax most of the time and was able to speak as young as the age of 5-6months (sadly not the same about walking). I was also gifted and able to see supernatural things. Almost all HSP are introverts, because they are more likely to be overwhelmed by things that extroverts see as “usual” or “fun”. Based on this book I read, Quiet, the most researched evidence a child can be HSP is extreme crying and kicking when faced to stimulation like noises, clowns, the smell of unfamiliar things, and certain kind of lights (while extroverted babies tend to be calm and doesn’t show much reaction). HSP can be detected since infant because it’s genetics (the way your mind and body naturally responds to stimulus), not the way you were raised or your environmental effect.

Sensitivity got lost in the meaning when translated in Indonesian. It’s something common for us to say daily, like “Jangan sensi taa”, “Sensian iki”, etc. But sensitivity is not only the way you take everything so personally and get sad easily. Maybe “sentimental” is more of a right word for that description. Here is what Susan Cain wrote in her book about high-sensitivity.

When she was a girl, Aron was often told that she was “too sensitive for her own good.” She had two hardy elder siblings and was the only child in her family who liked to daydream, and play inside, and whose feelings were easily hurt. As she grew older and ventured outside her family’s orbit, she continued to notice things about herself that seemed different from the norm. She could drive alone for hours and never turn on the radio. She had strong, sometimes disturbing dreams at night. She was “strangely intense,” and often beset by powerful emotions, both positive and negative. She had trouble finding the sacred in the everyday; it seemed to be there only when she withdrew from the world.

Highly sensitive people tend to be keen observers who look before they leap. They arrange their lives in ways that limit surprises. They’re often sensitive to sights, sounds, smells, pain, coffee. They have difficulty when being observed (at work, say, or performing at a music recital) or judged for general worthiness (dating, job interviews). But there were also new insights. The highly sensitive tend to be philosophical or spiritual in their orientation, rather than materialistic or hedonistic. They dislike small talk. They often describe themselves as creative or intuitive (just as Aron’s husband had described her). They dream vividly, and can often recall their dreams the next day. They love music, nature, art, physical beauty. They feel exceptionally strong emotions— sometimes acute bouts of joy, but also sorrow, melancholy, and fear.

I found out that this description matched myself so much that it got me thinking “Wow this is so me” while reading it.

I remember getting older isolated from other kids. Around 4 years old, I was really quiet and basically always by myself on kindergarten break time. I was in my head most of the time, had imaginary friends, talked to myself more than I talked to real people. My parents were once called by my kindergarten headmistress. She caught me staring at the class window emptily and started talking to no one. She strongly suggested my parents to take me to a child psychiatrist. Around 6 years old, my sixth sense developed so much. I learned to speak more, but I was more interested with “unseen” world. I was obsessed with death, supernatural creatures and phenomenon, everything in that grey area. I began to lucid dream in this point of life. I also sleepwalked a lot.

My HSP showed a lot with my sensitivity of disappointing older people. I always tried to do the right things. My academic and attitude record in elementary school was exemplary. I was the “anak emas”, the little girl that relatives looked up to and told their kids to behave, the one that really worked on her piket schedule. I cried super easily when teachers/ parents yelled at me, I couldn’t handle getting into a fight with a friend, I couldn’t handle bad grades. Basically I couldn’t handle any tension at all.

Many of you probably wondered why you haven’t seen me cry with all the things people threw at me lately. I wanna break my limits, my boundaries. I don’t wanna grow up that fragile in this tough world. I learned to not let people see my overabundance of emotions.

I have this trick when faced with pressured situation. I escaped to a more peaceful spot and calmed myself for a while (toilet will do just fine. I told myself to hold it a little more, had a conversation in my head quickly, then got out and feeling more relaxed). If I couldn’t make the toilet escape, I will go to the quiet side of me. My face and heart will be hard, but it’s unlikely for me to say anything. I will be there, thinking, but you will not hear me.

I am also really sensitive with people’s judgement. I actually think about this a lot that I loses sleep frequently. I’m not the kind of person who will receive your harsh words then forget it the next day where we'll be hanging out and having fun (under any circumstances). When I looked at you, your words, attitude towards me, the way you look at me will played out in my head. If you hurt me, I will be scarred (not scared) for a long time and I honestly do get nightmares about you. People’s words will haunt me at some nights. And I definitely can’t spend a “fun” time with you. Simply can’t imagine the level of superficiality that go along with it.

I can’t be productive when I feel like I’m being watched and judged by people. It’s like I suddenly freeze and my mind won’t work. I can do my thing, however, if I’m working behind the scenes, away from people’s harsh eyes full of judgement.

This is also why I don’t get comfortable around most people. Most of their vibes drain my energy. I only received good vibes around a few people – which I make sure to hold so closely to me.

In my sixteen years of life, I’m happy to say that I’ve outgrown some negative things about me:

-I’ve outgrown the constant need to be completely alone and cut off from the rest of the world. I learned this thing “fake it until you make it”.  I started to become more of a social person, learned to make friends, took some activities that kept me busy. It felt overwhelming at first but I got used to it after a while. No, I don’t try and squeeze myself to become an extrovert. I actually love the introvert side of me, and there are some days when I don’t feel like going out or talking to people. I’m compromising myself, and the best gift is always going home at the end of the day. I found out that a bemo ride after a long day at school is surprisingly recharging. I enjoyed the solitary walks, waiting for my ride, and daydreaming inside the car. I got things to write and random idea or deep thoughts in bemo.

-I learned a little of how to control the animal inside me. This animal is, indeed, my emotions. I'm so in tune with my feelings now, that I know when I need to go home, when I need to socialize more, when I have to take a break. But before that, all the past years (since as long as I can remember), I was so confused with myself, and it's kinda depressing not being able to figure myself out. I mean there were times when I literally blew up all of my emotions and scare people off just because of little things like spilling my water or dropping my pencil case open. I know now that I have a max point in emotions, and yes, after all these years I learned to live with it and learned how to minimize it. To minimize it, I have this method which really works (I'm able to do it now because I'm more in tune with myself). I learned to know when my emotions are near my max point, some moment before I blow up. It can be detected with my sensitivity to little things and my reaction which is stronger than usual on happy and sad things (tears just come out while watching sad videos on youtube or reading some articles in social medias, strangers smile at me makes me smile too for some hours, etc). When these things happen, I know it's time for me to back off and not overwhelm myself unless I want to reach my max point and blow up in front of people. So I go home as soon as I can, and trigger my emotions to pour out (it's easy because I'm about to reach my max point). I do what I feel like doing, can range from watching sad movies/videos, listening to sad songs, searching for sad quotes, to lay in bed and thinking sad, mean thoughts while I cry my face off. The pillow would be wet like crazy, but it's not as horrible as it may sound. I actually feel kinda relieved and finally at ease with myself. After that, the days will go as usual and I feel calm and stable.... well, until I reach the next max point.

-I’m over the phase of hating every inch of myself (from body to personality). I remembered this dark year (I won’t say when, but you probably could guess) when everything went wrong and I lost people that mattered to me and had no one and cried myself to sleep most nights and had dangerous thoughts and thought my life was completely meaningless. Got back on my feet a year later, found MBTI soon which made me 10000 times better. I figured out that I (in fact) didn’t have any craziness or personality disorder in me, and that there are people in other side of the Earth that have the same thinking and feeling pattern as me. I’m OBSESSED with MBTI, cognitive functions, enneagram, and other personality groupings.

I had a doubt once whether I’m truly sensitive or maybe I’m just moody. I cry my eyes out on things that make me sad, mostly from seeing cruelty and miserable people in this world. Everyone’s badmood is deeply infectious to me. I also cry more on little things that people usually just forget. On the other hand, I can become hard, insensitive, quiet, sharp, and produce a vibe that makes everyone wants to go away from me when people give me a hard time. It’s almost impossible to get me to open up, tell you how I feel, tell you about my problems. I also (surprisingly, unlike other HSP) can not tolerate menye-menye love movies, quotes, or songs people get sad to that I consider shallow (and mainstream). I found out the truth a while ago, how I can be the most sensitive and insensitive person. The truth is, not only I absorb people’s feeling like a sponge, I also reflect them like a mirror. My heart and mood reflects your emotion. I feel your heartache, I feel your confusion, I feel your chokes on the throat when you’re starting to cry. I can see things from your view, and I’m deeply disturbed by injustice. I always seem to be on the victim’s side, defending the underdogs. But once you’re mad at me, pressured me, judged me, I will reflect that side of you and started to think the same way about you. You’re sad, I’m sad. You’re mad, I’m mad. You’re being cold and hurting everyone, I’m being colder (but not gonna hurt you in any way). It’s all a-one-way to me.

And no, I'm not really that mysterious, dark, antisocial, scary girl anymore in real life:)) I'm not the super-cheerful, easiest-to-get-along-with kind of girl either. You'll probably find me rather laid-back with a friend by my side, talking with limited movement and carried a slight kind of awkwardness in me. The one with a few "close friends". You'll also probably find me walking alone with musics in my ear along with my easy, relaxed steps. ...Or you can find me furrowing my eyebrows and look at people sharply with sullen face (when I come across something that upsets me) lol. I come off as "intense" to a few people, but most people just see me as calm and soft in the first glance (told you I'm a paradox).

It’s just how I am and how all this years in life make me. I embrace it. I am learning a little more about myself everyday, figure out how to maximize my strengths and overcome my weaknesses. Even though it’s easier to be like everyone else, I don’t wanna trade me for anyone. I like my struggles even though it’s hard for me to handle from the very beginning. I like the way I shine differently – but not less bright – than most people in this common world.

Another View on Islam

So yeah, I was getting interested in how the world sees Islam and spent about 5-6 hours watching documentaries, short videos, social experiments, reading tons of comments, reading infographics, news, and people’s opinions. It’s gotten all over other things tho, feminism, cultures, pro-life, racism, sexuality, human trafficking, and like, everything. And whoa. There are literally stereotypes everywhere. I opened my eyes and saw terrifying, gruesome even, things that muslim people do and yeah, I feel sick. But which part of it don’t you understand.

It’s the human, not the religion.

Sure, there are forced marriage and pedophile sick old men who marry 8-year-old girl, and as you can guess there will be violence and abuse. Yes, they were Muslims. But Islam is nothing like that. Islam teaches peace, forgiveness, and beauty. Blaming Islam for something a man did and thinking all Muslims are all like that is stereotyping. If they were white and American (stating something, not being racist here), would you blame his religion? Say a murderer is an atheist. Would you blame his atheism instead of his moral? I think not.

The next thing I want to say is ISIS IS NOT THE REPRESENTATION OF ISLAM. People are so absorbed with media’s over-exploiting on ISIS and terrorism and muslim rape and riot and basically every bad things under the name of Islam that people don’t realize they are being deceived and manipulated. Politic hands are all over it and spice news up one way or other. Don’t be blind. See. Islam doesn’t teach terrorism. ISIS is not supposed to be the thing that comes to your mind when you hear the word “Islam”. ISIS doesn’t represent Islam at all.

WOMEN WEARS HIJAB IS NOT A SYMBOL OF MAN OPPRESSION AND OBJECTIFICATION. It literally has nothing to do with self expression. I mean, I myself started out wearing hijab because of my own will. It is a form of my obedience to Allah. It’s okay if someone wears it, it’s okay if they don’t. Just because I wear one doesn’t necessarily mean I have a higher or lower self-respect than those who don’t. No woman (or human) should be treated like an object, regardless of how they dress.

I was reading the comment section on this video about “kidnapping bride” culture (which is a way to marry someone, rather forceful in my opinion) in some city called Kyrgyzstan, and there were so many comments that basically said “Muslims are so fucked up. Is this the kind of ‘peace’ they brought? Poor women. We should just kill them all.”

Look now, just because they wear head-cover doesn’t mean they’re muslims, OKAY? What kind of muslims cover their hair but wear miniskirt at the same time? They drink, don’t do shalats, their lives are not colored by islamic lives at all. People mix up culture and religion too far. Culture is a thing that grows in some area, it has so little to do with religions. Islam never forces other humanbeing. Islam delivers gentle care and loving, especially to women. Women are precious and must be handled with care.That’s the truth about Islam. Muslim women also have a right to say, to speak, to take action. Look at muslimah woman figures (such as Aisyah, Khadijah, Fatimah), they were strong, independent, worthy, smart, motherly, caring, tender, and were not afraid to speak up. 

If you heard that Islam oppresses women, it's not true at all. Islam values women so highly that there is actually one whole surah made for them in Quraan called An-Nisaa (translation: Woman). Here are some sayings in Quraan that shows how precious women are.
"Islam has raised the status of woman from below the earth so high that paradise lies under her feet." (MasyaaAllah:"") I mean, what else could you ask for? Your worth is more than any jewelry, any decent men, any happiness in the world. Your worth is so high that even God's heaven existed below your feet)
"If the eyes of a female cry over a man that oppressed her, angels will curse him with every step he walks"

And this is a fake one that you may come across on the internet. Tabari is not even a suraah in our holy Quraan, it simply doesn't exist. So yeah, nice try.

In spite of all the raging hatred I saw, I found some positive comments that just made me smile.

“I remember, I was in a store, JCPenny, I think, and I noticed a woman in a hijab and I noticed that she was getting dirty looks from everyone (it was in a white majority area). I looked at her and I just smiled at her, the smile you give to tell someone you care and you think they're beautiful as they are, and the look of gratitude I got back was amazing. It was similar to what the one woman in the video was saying, only I wasn't wearing a hijab.”

“I live in a country where it's such an utter melting pot that you can wear a hijab to school and no one even blinks. Like okay this girl's Muslim/Malay whatever. It's really weird seeing this whole hijabs are weird/oppressive thing in other countries. Personally I like the hijab, I think it looks classy, it seems practical (Hairbuff fans know what I'm talking about: Just chuck all your hair in there, adjust it every so often and you're good to go) and I'll admit to being fairly religious, so I think the whole modesty thing is pretty cool.”

"One person commits a crime: he's blamed...

Fair enough

One Muslim commits a crime: the whole religion's blamed!!"

I'm not spreading any hate nor did I try to shove my beliefs down people's throats here. All I'm saying is, there are great and human things that Muslims make in this world everyday. I'm just hoping you would be blessed enough to not be a victim of today's twisted medias, to be wise enough to see into these issues with a clear head and objective judgement, to be mature enough to not swallow everything that's thrown to you. Because the truth of Islam can be found rather easily if you have the will to look deeper.

Don't forget to check these videos (must-see!)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W5DwStbT6rg (restored my faith in humanity, I'm literally crying in the corner of my bed)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EpDnw4Wevxs

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iUvnD5GVAXg