Tuesday, April 29, 2008

The what if...

I have been contemplating a post like this for some time... And I have been trying to think of a way that I can express myself without just sounding like a crazy person or someone bragging about her past and remembering things as they never really were... But I have been watching so many sentimental movies while my DH is overseas that I can no longer resist the urge. I am about to tell you things that even my DH doesn't know, things he has never heard all of or even most of in a way that would enable him to have an accurate picture. I suspect he knows this... He has told me many times "that period of my life is still a mystery." And it is, even to me. But here is what I know.

It wasn't 100% that I would become The Egyptian's Wife, even though I wouldn't take it back ever. I had a weird few years after graduating college and I could've married one of a few different men... And DH still thinks to this day that the reason I didn't is that they never asked with the intention of actually doing it. And he still jokes/laments when times are bad "See, you shouldve married the Saudi." What's closer to the truth is that none of them were someone I could be with for various reasons.

In high school I met a cardiologist doing military service to pay for med school who asked me to marry him. He asked me after he was relocated to another city, and did so by numerous letters. I didn't have the maturity/guts to even open them until my second year of college. Then I took an entire day reading them. They broke my heart. I gave him the wrong impression and was truly unfair to never respond to his letters. I was a child, he assumed I was angry at the idea that he left me in Denver without any promise to continue our relationship. Nothing could be further from the truth... I was just a flighty adolescent. I wrote him when I was in college and he quit the military and became a minister. He later married a woman he met at a Christian summer camp where she was a counselor and he was a youth minister.


I guess I could've been a preacher's wife.

In college I met, was engaged to and lived with a man who had more money than sense. He was Japanese, and his family was wealthy. No, WEALTHY. No, WEALTHY!!!!! And he was spoiled and probably sociopath because he was sent off to school too young to have ever formed a real bond with his parents. When we got to the point of me actually considering moving there and getting married... He started to get into drugs, and it was downhill from there. He would've been a bad choice anyway, people raised in that kind of opulence just seem to be out of touch with reality most of the time, in my opinion.


I guess I could've been a harajuku girl.

Then I moved back to Denver and was teaching a preschool class when spotted by a Saudi boy. He arranged for my teaching assistant to introduce us (he knew her) and we dated. I liked him. Of all the men other than my DH... He is the only one I might be bold enough to use the word love with. He introduced me to Islam. He witnessed my shahada. He was there for that life changing discovery that now has its' place at the center of my life. I still read from the Yusuf Ali translation in the Quran he gave me every day. It's not like I am sorry that I didn't marry him... It's that he was a part of such an important part of my life. My husband knows him because after my DH and I got engaged he came to me and caused enough doubt in my husband's mind about me that he called off the engagement for 2 weeks. During those 2 weeks this boy who had begged so desperately for my affection during the days after he found out I was engaged never was able to reconcile his culture and his feelings for me. In the end... I told him unless he was ready to defend his choice to marry me he wasn't ready to make it. And he wasn't. I decided I would rather never get married than attach myself to a man who could just go back to his family at any moment. The last time I saw the Saudi boy was at a lecture in Denver, and even though I was pregnant with two small children in tow our eyes met long enough for me to be sure he recognised me and that made him very uncomfortable.


So I guess I could've been a Saudi princess.

Then there is the Egyptian, the judge's son, the boy who stayed in the US and gave up everything in Egypt to care for his sister here in the states after an accident left her disabled. My husband. I feel like through all the struggles and years I know he was the one I was meant to marry. He is the one who I needed to force me to wake up. To force me to become a stronger person. To force me to do things I wouldn't have dreamed of. There have been bad things... I have struggles I don't think we need and I know I don't want... But we are stronger because of it. I can say that I could've chosen another man, but in the end I don't know that's true. It had to be him somehow. And when he called me after 2 weeks of waiting patiently assuming that I would've married the Saudi boy by now... I knew anyone who would have the heart to let me go because he thought I might be happier with the other man and the guts to make that phone call on the off chance I was still available was the person I was meant to be with.

So that friends, is how I became The Egyptian's Wife.

3 comments:

socrunchy said...

aww that's the sweetest post. i'm sure all women can relate. it reminded me all the prospects i had before my dh. alhamdulillah for my dh. :)

fatima said...

AllI want to say I love reading your blog..all the way from johannesburg south Africa

snagabeardedmozlem said...

this is a beautiful post:)