I think the problem with us is that we’re picky. No, we’re idealistic. We don’t want the guy without the [U.S.] citizenship. We don’t want the boy without the education; we don’t want the man whose reputation can be heard, if not seen, a mile away. And, we want him to be oh-so-American – yet pray, speak perfect Arabic, have a regular job because of a U.S. college degree, and not speak English with a funky Middle Eastern accent. Demanding women are we! This syndrome sets a standard that makes us actively buy into this crazy cultural materialism. And, unfortunately, these relationships almost never work out. Things spiral out of control. One thing leads to another, diminishing the relationship into nothing but thin air. Is the spiral effect of a seemingly perfect relationship possible with Arab-American couples, where dignity and chastity is a must?
You’ve met him: that attractive and exciting Arab man bred here, to your liking (or disliking). There is one thing wrong with him: The impression he makes in society, the shoes he wears, or how he picks his teeth at the dinner table in public around other Arabs at random tables. That makes you wonder. What possibly could come of the relationship in the future? Without realizing it, you’ve said too much and explained too little, and neither is hearing what the other is saying. It’s like one thing gets picked up on, and turns into a fight. Then the question of morals, religion, and ethics comes into play, or putting down our “dignity” in favor of his “ego.” I know I’ve heard a lot of ilkhanate [one the major four divisions within the Mongol Empire] and zihi’t [part of the Arabic macrolanguage] in my lifetime, when I never thought it would get to that point!
Dating in the culture is essentially impermissible, so instead your crush comes along on a group date with your friend and her husband. He’s a rebel within limits, and finally, a man you met through friends and not through relatives. He’s never been in love, and he likes you. Every Arab girl knows that every Arab man wants you to be his last, and him to be your first. And he’s chosen you.
The relationship starts out smoothly. You hang out in groups. A few moths go by. You fall in love. You tell your sister who in turn tells your mom, who keeps it a secret from your über-religious and super-protective dad. A month later it’s been a year, and you’re picking a fight so fierce it’s as though you’re slamming your steak before grilling it. The spiral effect takes place. Your mom calls him ibn kalb [son of a dog], and two years later you’re single while he’s out with ever non-you type in the field.
From heaven to hell. Your heart’s twisted. You’re totally confused, but you’ve kept your “dignity” so you wouldn’t have to face people who didn’t know you were no longer engaged. Suddenly, your perfect man sees you as not perfect anymore, and your image seems to be tarnished in the Arab-American society you live in. Have you spiraled before? Will you spiral again?
Picturing American sitcoms with non-Middle Eastern actors reminds me of this dramatic “film Hindi” love trap that forces you to come to grips with the fact that this couple is not going to end up together. We Arab-American women are not so much different. The difference is that the family finds out you’re seeing him and expects you to get engaged, and – sight! Alas! – you don’t. Young women, who once innocently looked for love, are patronized if things got out of control and the relationship simply did not work out. Of course, this doesn’t stop the wandering eye of your mother’s best friend from considering you as a viable candidate for her son who just graduated Harvard (ha!) or her cousin’s nephew, through marriage back in the Middle East, which totally defeats the purpose of your quest in the United States for the perfect fully-packaged Arab who has U.S. citizenship – from birth!
Ladies spiraling, happens in every relationship. What matters is how you deal with it and what the cultural constraints are. One thing that is stressed in our culture is how important dignity and respect are. But in American culture I see honesty, truth and love as the first words that come to mind when one thinks of an ideal relationship. Both cultures share one truth: all relationships are still relationships. Breakups and makeups; ups and downs; so-called rights and spiraling fights will always surface and demand to be expressed.
The perfect Arab-American guy does not come along just once, doesn’t always speak perfect English, or is a U.S. citizenship holder simply because his family immigrated here. And just remember, spiraling has nothing to do with this Middle Eastern cultural materialism we’re bred to believe in, but rather because of personality clashes and one common and universal belief in all cultures; the idea of destiny, or naseeb. Fighting is normal in any group. But conquering the problem, both internally and socially, is something you have to find within yourself. The next time you feel things getting out of control, and the power of society pushing its weight down on you, just remember that the spiral effect is not only inherently Arab. It’s pretty general in our ultimate quest to find the perfect man.
