I'm laying myself bare here. Because I think about this a lot. And I was hoping that writing it down might help.That's what this blog was meant for, wasn't it? I didn't need to press "Publish" but I have. Don't ask me why. Here is me...
It’s hard being a Muslim and being me. Which is silly, because I am a Muslim and I am me. But even though they’re the same thing they feel so, so separate.
I…I’m meant to have an arranged marriage. My mum wants me to have an arranged marriage. Not a ‘here’s some guy, marry him or else’ marriage. More of an ‘I’ve heard of this really nice young man, let’s go meet him and if you like him you can marry him’.
But that scares me. It scares me so much. I know I’ll get to know him but the thought of giving myself over wholly and completely over to someone who, let’s face it, I’ll not properly know, frightens me. Giving myself over and committing myself to a lifetime with this person. Giving my…my very essence to someone I don’t even know.
And some of them work. Some arranged marriages are great. And some of them, like my parents, are more than train wrecks.
I don’t even want to get married because I’m scared it’ll end. Part of me believes in happily ever after but part of me believes the only reality is that it never lasts, because love never lasts.
So I told my mum that I would never have an arranged marriage. I told her that I would find my own man, and she’s ok with that, as long as he converts to Islam.
No one is going to convert to Islam for me.
A boy I know actually said that no man would do that. Not the “for me” bit but the “convert” bit. The rest was implied even if he didn’t mean it.
No one has ever even shown an interest in me. No one has ever even asked me out on a date.
And if they did they wouldn’t want all my crazy.
I just want someone to make me feel safe. To love me.
The future shouldn’t be scary. It shouldn’t hurt. How can something that hasn’t happened cause pain? But it does. It hurts so much.