The Catch-22 of Conservative Indian Households and Boys

Growing up, it was cemented in my brain to stay away from boys…at all costs. In fourth grade I had my first crush on a football player from my hometown, and I had no idea how to act. I would profusely sweat in his presence, he couldn’t pronounce my last name, a match made in heaven.


Fast forward to college, when I started dorming and had all this newfound freedom, but not much of an idea of how to use it. Part of the American college culture is going to frat parties, making friends, joining activities, and with all that comes…boys.


Freshman year, I had my first ever fling, and the crippling guilt I felt when I went home for Thanksgiving that year made chunks of my hair fall out, because I no longer felt like I was doing what my family would want. This guilt faded over time, of course, but it took all four years of college. When I would come home for summers I would have a deep fear that my family would accidentally see a text, or see me get picked up multiple blocks away, or even that I would accidentally talk in my sleep.


When I graduated college, the 180 of “when are you getting married?” didn’t take very long, which is incredibly frustrating for someone who wasn’t supposed to breathe the same air as a man until after college.


I chose to ignore this nagging question from my relatives and focus on getting my Masters and establishing a career for myself, only to find myself in predetermined situations of meeting “eligible” men. At one point I was introduced to a man and pushed into conversation at my own grandmother’s funeral.


A year later, when I met my now fiance, I knew introducing him to my family would be tricky. Having met off social media it wouldn’t be easy to answer “ how did you guys meet?” or the barrage of questions about his background, family, and even caste. Thus, the delicate dance began.


Suddenly, there was another “friend” coming to our family bbqs. There was another “friend” picking me up for weekend hangouts, and there was another “friend” I was talking to on the phone for hours a day. 


Finally, after two years of dating, I sat my joint family of 10+ people down and announced it at the breakfast table, “I’m seeing someone and I think this is it for me” to which I was surprisingly greeted with high fives and smiles, “we like him too, nice kid”. The immense feeling of relief in that moment was indescribable.


There’s no easy way to break the ice in our dichotomous culture, but maybe the ice doesn’t have to be broken, it can be thawed over time.


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