In the past couple of years I’ve watched friends, former lovers and exes alike choose people to boo up with and partner up with. Some I’ve been surprised by, others made sense to me. Real talk, it doesn’t matter what I think at the end of the day. If you like it, I love it.
I could ask why someone chooses one person over another person but I don’t think there’s any real rhyme or reason. It’s like asking why one person’s voice sounds like a warm and lovely lullaby while another person’s voice sounds like nails against a chalkboard.
I just don’t think we have a choice in the matter.
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We’re loving this Tumblr page, The Single Muslimah – full of hilarious gifs and spot on observations about the curious, confusing and oftentimes amusing experience of being a single Muslim woman.
We especially love this post “When a prospective writes that he doesn’t like to read.”
Last year, while I was interning in New York City and commuting via public transit daily, I had an awkward moment on the subway. An older Muslim woman noticed my Palestinian-flag bracelet and spoke to me in Arabic, asking me my age, origins (French and Moroccan), my parents’ work and then mine.
When I told her that I was an intern, she said, “Wow, your husband let you travel from Europe for a three-month internship?”
I answered, “I’m not married, but, yes, my parents are confident enough to let me travel on my own.”
A few stops later, she ended the conversation by telling me that I should take off my hijab if I wanted to get married – especially given my advanced age of 26. She said this in the way an aunt, khalti, khanu or mama would say it: solemnly and with my best interest at heart.
It started with a wink.
My husband David and I met on Match.com when he showed up in my weekly report of new guys on the site matching my preferences. He had an awful profile picture (think: taken with a cell phone camera in a moving car), but I loved everything else about his profile, from the description of himself to what he was looking for in a partner. So, I virtually winked at him. He sent me a message the next day
Fast forward 16 months and I was moving to Chicago as his bride.
It sounds easy enough but my road to the altar was a long and arduous one.
Dear Love InshAllah,
I’m reaching out to you now because no one in my life understands, but you might.
I always felt I never fit in, too “white” or “liberal” for my strict Muslim community in the Midwest, too “conservative”, too Muslim to be with a white guy. I met someone online who changed that, a white guy who understood. He even read ‘Love InshAllah’ because he said he wanted to understand where I was coming from.
We have been together for a year, and now it is falling apart, due to some issues he has in the past with being abandoned by his mother. He says he still loves me.
I thought he was the one for me, I still believe he is. We are on a “break” – the ball is in his court, if he decides he can “learn to be happy and deal with personal issues” we will get back together and “start over.” If not, it is over.
I feel like I will never find happiness. I’m almost 26, I’m no longer in school, I work with people who are all over 50, I don’t mesh well with the “Pakistani community” here, no big group of desi friends. Because I don’t drink, I also don’t have that many non-Muslim friends. Just four good friends from high school and everyone else is an acquaintance.
I see nothing but a life of loneliness ahead of me. No Muslim guy would want me if he knew about relationship history, and I don’t want to keep dating white guys, racking up partners, being heartbroken. I feel like each heartbreak (and this is only heartbreak #2) is taking a piece of my soul with it.
I feel like I have no options at all. I feel broken. I feel like I am going to be alone forever and I don’t know how to be happy with that. I can’t sleep but I don’t want to leave my bed either. My state of being is so painful to my family and the guilt makes it worse.
I keep hearing the “horror stories.” The 40-year-old, never-married girl, everyone trying to figure out what’s wrong with her. I’m afraid of becoming that.
Not Everyone Has a Happy Ending
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