Usually, the last Friday of the month has been devoted to fiction. This month, by popular demand, we’ll be having a personal essay instead.
The way I went about marriage was a cause of concern for my family.
In September of 2009, I posted my profile on Match.com, had my first date with Eric in October 2009 and we were married in March 2010. I like to say I arranged my own marriage, something that is not at all in line with my culture, or at least it hasn’t been for a few hundred years.
“Why be so clinical about this?” my mother asked, genuinely panicked at how fast I was moving and the checklist system I had for the progression my relationship should take.
Her concerns were understandable, but I would not be swayed. I wasn’t willing to explain my rationale either, as few people would believe the conversation I had had years earlier that prompted this way of doing things. Even fewer would believe the conversation was indicative of most or all men.
I knew that it was. And I didn’t want to f…