My friend/fiancee/confidante was a strange relationship. Albeit strange within a non-Muslim environment. I attended high school with no pressure to date, initially. Most of my friends were male because I clicked with the boys more than the girls. And I credit it to my "as-a-matter-of-fact" personality. I don't beat around the bush. I daresay women are complicated beings. Girls in high school were like cats on the prowl. Some were your friends, some were your enemies, others pretended to be your friend, complimenting you on how skinny you looked while feeding you sweets. They purred in contentment and lashed out when you crossed their imaginary lines. Hey, back then, I am just telling it like it was.
But with my male friends, they meant what they said and said what they meant. No complication, no innuendos, no trickery. Straightforward. And I liked that because there was no confusion. So I became one of the guys while maintaining my friendship with the female population. How? Because they all knew I couldn't date the guys! I did not hide the fact that my culture and religion dictated no dating. Even as a minority in my school (there were in fact only 4 muslims), I was not shamed to talk about my heritage or my beliefs. In fact, I still remember the cafeteria conversations on comparative religions that went on for hours -- we even skipped classes when the discussion became interesting.
Why do I go into all of this? Well, I am a great listener. And when boys and girls alike came to me with their relationship issues, I was an unbiased counsellor who gave them my point of view. Imagine, a girl, never in a relationship, never went on a date, dishing out advice! But since I was friends with both sides, I saw each story and tried to resolve the issue with a compromise. The only thing was... I couldn't apply these practices to my own life!
A few months before my mom passed in 1989, I stopped speaking to my friend. He was devastated when I stopped writing back and distanced myself from our conversations but my reason was simple. He cared for me more than I did for him. I saw where our friendship was going and it scared me. What was unique about our situation was that we only met once, in a public gathering. He never asked me to meet him in secret even though he lived in the next city. He respected my beliefs and understood my reasons not to meet -- more to protect me if I was ever seen with him anywhere. Now this may seem strange to the average person reading this but even with him, I tried to comply to my religion. My father had successfully wired me with a conscience although a part of me tried many years to unwire his hold on me. Except for the secrecy, I felt I did nothing wrong. I had seen much worse. And so had my father who was active in the Pakistani community. Back in the 80s for a girl to "be" with a boy was looked down upon as she brought shame not only to herself but her family.
But this secret was the only thing I could 'own.' It is hard to articulate this today but back then, it was a rite of passage I needed to experience. I lived too many years, nodding in obedience, doing the RIGHT thing, complying to everything and everyone; sacrificing my happiness for others. The repression was too much. The obedience was too much. My family was too much. And I became selfish. And I had to legitimately escape. Sounds like a typcial teenage trial. Not so enticing for the average person but really...I was committing the ultimate rebellion.
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