Well, I guess what prompted
her strong statements was the fact that I'm almost 35 and....(please
sit down if you're a traditional South Asian, it may put you in shock)....not
married. In fact, I've never been married.
For many traditional South Asians, not being married in one's 30s
is just as bad as dropping out of school. It is simply unacceptable.
Somehow, they all think it is "my fault" for keeping them
"worried and concerned."
"You're not trying hard enough to find a life partner,"
my family members have said.
Trying hard enough? What do they mean by that? Am I suppose to kiss
my cousin at the next family reunion instead of watching the famous
1964 movie Kissin' Cousins? It’s not like I've gotten
a hysterectomy and locked myself into a convent.
No, in fact, I've spent a lifetime with the clock ticking against
a romantic goal. In junior high, I wanted to have a boyfriend before
starting high school so people would think I was cool. It never happened,
thank God. Then, in high school, my goal was to get a boyfriend in
time to go to the prom. It never happened.
I dated a wonderful young man in college. I mean, I had to have
someone before I graduated and was pressured to have an arranged marriage.
But before graduation, my boyfriend and I decided to part ways because
we had different philosophies on life. “Well, I have time,”
I thought “...I'm only 22.”
Yet, in my mind, there was always some milestone I was trying to
reach. At first, I wanted to get married before age 25 (before the
heavy badgering began) and then before 30 (because that’s what
was expected.) But it never happened. I slowly began to realize that
at each stage of my life, I tried to fit some type of mold to land
a man—but nothing clicked.
I was either too South Asian or too Americanized. I was either too
fashionable or clueless about the latest styles. I was too ambitious
or not in a career with high earning potential. I started to feel
like I was a character in the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears—
nothing ever seemed "just right."
Soon, the whole dating game became exhausting, humiliating and counterproductive.
And that's not how I wanted to live my life. So one day, about four
years ago, it dawned on me that fitting into molds was not my purpose
in life. I was brought into this world to complete a mission, not
to play a pre-scripted role. I also realized that trying to fit into
molds stole time and energy away from all my true talents, which I
could invest in my career, my community and the rest of the world.
Nevertheless, I also realized that as a South Asian-American, I
would constantly face pressure to get married as soon as possible.
That's because despite advances in women's rights, both South Asian
and American societies still, to a large extent, support the idea
that a woman is not settled until she is married and has started a
family. The main difference between the two cultures is the approach
to marriage and family.
In my observation, people in South Asia live in a group-oriented
society. These groups often consist of several interconnected families.
Individuals, therefore, are identified by which group they belong
to. This applies especially to women, who are thought of as the bedrocks
of the family. Under this system, a woman who is not connected with
a family is considered peculiar. And thus, people marry to connect
themselves to a family and limit the time that they are alone. When
South Asians immigrated to America, one of the traditions they brought
with them was the idea of the group society. So it is natural for
them to nudge single people about what families they are connected
to, and view the individual as someone out of the ordinary. That's
why those of us who are still single always get inquiries about our
marital status. And even if we're dating someone, the question of
when the relationship is moving forward always comes up.
However, in the United States, a person is identified by his or
her individual traits. A single person is not an oddity, and is often
seen as independent and self-sufficient. If one gets married, she
does so to make herself happy and enrich her experiences in life.
That's why our American neighbors pry less about our marital status.
Of course, they're just as nosy, but they would rather know whether
your boyfriend is a good kisser—not when they'll get a wedding
invitation. Family in America is seen as something that enhances the
individual, while in South Asia, the individual enhances the family
(or larger group).
As Desis growing up in two cultures, we are psychologically inclined
towards both systems. For some, consulting with their families to
find a spouse works best. If they find themselves alone, these people
try various methods to meet someone to settle down with. Others prefer
meeting someone on their own, and if they find themselves without
a partner, they focus on other goals, if and until the right one comes
along.
So after being pressured for years, I decided that carving my own
path worked for me. When I found someone or whether I found someone
at all was less important than being the best person I could be. Instead
of watching the clock count down (and feeling anxious that time was
running out), I watched the clock count up, meaning that I kept counting
the blessings of my life experiences.
And as serendipity would have it, last year, I met a wonderful man
(who's not South Asian). As we got to know each other, I was amazed
by how much he cared about me, was patient and understanding and most
of all, liked me for who I am. I was just right.
Then, my South Asian inclinations pushed me toward getting married
as soon as possible. While he cared deeply for me, this made him feel
quite uncomfortable. I realized then that I had a choice: I could
either turn off the time clock and have someone who really loves me
or leave this miracle that was brought to me and race to the finish
to get a Mrs. title. I decided to stay with the person who made me
happy, even though we had yet to make plans for marriage. I haven't
given up on marriage, but I have turned off the clock. But the most
important thing is: I'm happy.
So now, the next time an aunty asks me about my marital status,
I'll have to defy two South Asian traditions. First, I'll have to
tell her that I'm not rushing to get married just to connect myself
to a family. And second, I'll have to question my elders.
When she says, "you need two wings to fly," I'll reply,
"no I don't."
Jaya Rao lives in the Washington, D.C. area
and works for the federal government. (No, she doesn't work for the
IRS, CIA or FBI.) She's a strong believer in families, but also believes
that families must create their own life experiences, instead of following
a play-by-play script. Jaya is active in politics and South Asian
community organizations.
The views expressed in this section are those
of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of ABCDlady.
Back to Top
|
