I’m writing this in response to a gentleman that commented on one of my answers. I want to set the record straight, and talk candidly about why his perception of Muslim men doesn’t correlate with my own personal experiences with my father. I’m certain he’s not the only progressive moderate Muslim in the World.
Do I think Islamophobia exists? Yes.
Do I find extremism abhorrent? Yes.
Meet my parents.
“Rules to oppress and subjugate women, slaves and kafirs does not mean we have to believe that it is noble or good.”
I don’t disagree that there are extreme Muslims that treat women despicably. I condemn that wholeheartedly.
My father was born in India, his family were Muslim. Prior to the partition, his friends, the boys he grew up with were Hindus and Sikhs. The partition changed his perception of religion, as a young boy, he couldn’t reconcile in his mind why there were so many dead bodies along the path to the newly formed Pakistan. Abandoning the life he once knew, his friends, his home, all he wanted was for it to all end.
Later, my dad learnt that his childhood Sikh friend was killed by adult Muslims. He was horrified. “How can they say they know allah, when they can take an innocent boy’s life?,” he told me. My father still identified himself as a Muslim, but he didn’t feel the need to pray five times a day. It was how he lived his life that mattered.
My father never thought Islam was superior to any other religion. Always spoke highly of Hindus & Sikhs. He loved and respected Gandhi. He was to show me the film about his life as a young child, so that I learnt tolerance, forgiveness and empathy for others.
In contrast, I grew up in the Western world, but with no ethnic diversity. I was more interested in Mathematics than religion, it made more sense to me.
His philosophy was integration, that I was to respect the culture and traditions of the country I grew up in. Whilst other non Christian parents took their children out of school morning prayers, my father forbid it. He told me that the world didn’t revolve around me, that I needed to learn what’s important to others, and not feel like I’m different.
My dad bought me this dress especially for my school Christmas party. Would it surprise you to learn that I’ve always celebrated Christmas? That every 25th of December we have traditional roast dinner, crackers, hats, and rubbish Tv? That my father made me address our White Christian & Jehovah Witness neighbours as Aunty and Uncle as a mark of respect? Surely not Muslims, they have no regard for other religions?
My dad’s answer on who he supported in the cricket showed his fairness. Me: “Dad, when India & Pakistan play against each other, you’d naturally support Pakistan right?” Him; “Why do I have to choose. Prior to the partition, I was a happy Indian boy, those fond memories I cannot erase from my heart. In the spirit of sportsmanship, whoever is the better team. There’s nothing better than watching cricket with a bottle of beer in your hand.” What a Muslim that drinks alcohol? He did go to university in the UK, so it wasn’t surprising. In fact, my mum would moan if he had too many beers, but he’d hide the bottles under the sofa and remove it later. It was clear my mum wore the trousers in our household🙂
But this will shock you further. Until my dad’s funeral, I never read the Quran or stepped into a mosque. My father taught me Mathematics at a very early age, he was highly educated (PhD) and believed there should be more women in the physical sciences and engineering. He was a big advocator of every child whether rich or poor being educated. Throughout his lifetime, he sent money to his local rural village school in Pakistan, he also sent money (we still do after his death) to a poor woman who lost her husband and couldn’t afford Hepatitis medication. What? But Muslim men oppress and subjugate women, I hear you say.
When I went to university my life changed for the better. I became friends with people that were ethnically diverse. My best friends are Indian, Chinese, Arab, English, Ghanan. In a lot of respects they live their life differently to me, because most of them have their faith and I don’t.
The thing is making generalisations about a group doesn’t work in the real world. Does inequality only exist in Islam? Let’s take a look shall we:
My neighbour of many years, Paul, is openly Gay. My mother was born and brought up in Pakistan, so I was expecting her to feel uncomfortable around him. This shows I was prejudicial towards my mum, expecting her to react unfavourably. I was happy to be proven wrong, she thinks he’s lovely and chats to him when she comes to visit. On the other hand, my other neighbour was brought up in the West, is a devout Christian, said she’s against racism, but if she could be God she would not have gay people. Where’s the humanity? Let me tell you, that’s the last time I’ve spoken to her.
“There is no problem for a woman — religious or lay — to preach in the Liturgy of the Word… But at the Eucharistic Celebration there is a liturgical-dogmatic problem, because it is one celebration — the Liturgy of the Word and the Eucharistic Liturgy, there is unity between them — and He Who presides is Jesus Christ. The priest or bishop who presides does so in the person of Jesus Christ. It is a theological-liturgical reality. In that situation, since women are not ordained, they cannot preside.”
So, I take it that a woman will never become a pope in the future?
My father brought me up to believe I was no better than a beggar on the street. That the colour of your skin doesn’t matter. There is only one race, the human race. So, why have some got a higher social standing than others? Why did Gandhi have to highlight the plight of the “untouchables”, and how come they still convert to Islam & Christianity to this day?
My point if it’s not bleeding obvious! There are “good” and “bad” people in every religion. Oppression of certain groups happens in all faiths. I have a lot of respect for my Christian, Muslim & Hindu friends, because I judge them by their moral compass and not stereotype them with every Tom, Dick & Harry that follow their religion, as you do.
Now on to the current issue of Islamophobia:
Islam faces many challenges. There has been a rise in anti-Muslim hate crimes, I’ve seen first-hand how vile people have been taunting and threatening women that were entering and leaving the mosque at my dad’s funeral.
I always think it’s important to be fair in life. There are women that are forced to wear the hijab and burka, but my friend Haleema isn’t, to her it’s part of her identity as a Muslim. Whatever your beliefs, no man should tell a woman what they can and cannot wear. I have no problem with a woman wearing one if its of her own volition.
In the States, women were punched in the face and their head scarves removed. Over here, a woman was kicked in the stomach, she lost her baby. Totally unprovoked attacks. Haleema doesn’t like it, but I tell her not to wear her hijab if she’s leaving her shift at the hospital late at night. She’s a paediatrician, helping save children’s lives irrespective of their faiths, yet all bigots care about is what’s she’s wearing, and not the person she is inside. Is that right?
This picture of a Muslim woman on a French beach. On one hand it’s a sensitive time and it’s best not to antagonise people, on the other, she is wearing a head scarf, her face is still visible. Elderly women wore head scarves in the old days. Would a nun be threatened with gas if she was there? Are we now dictating what women can wear? Are they hurting anyone? Behaving like this and trying to kid yourselves it’s right! A civilised nation?
Muslims are worried for their safety, as well as wanting to make others feel safe around them. How can they overcome this hurdle? Should they sacrifice their religious freedom because of prejudices of others?
It would be remiss of me if I weren’t to admit that l do make prejudicial judgements. I’m human like everybody else. We are not born prejudiced. We pick up prejudice from various sources during our life: newspapers, movies, politicians, social media, family and friends.
“There is no logical reason for Islam to even exist. Those people that follow the religion are all the same”
You’re entitled to your opinion, but your reasoning is illogical, the truth is that statement is false. Muslims differ based on how they were raised, their life experiences, their education, exposure to different cultural groups, their personality. You cannot judge a whole religion by judging small groups of people. There are many good people also who truly and in the right sense follow the religion.
Acknowledging that prejudice is part of our human nature, a way of us understanding the world, is the first step. We may not be able to change the inherent way others think, but we can challenge them to reduce their prejudice.
What is foreign to our own beliefs can often appear threatening at times. Despite not identifying with a particular faith and it’s rituals, I still celebrate Eid, Christmas & Diwali with my friends, tolerance is part of my nature, as it should be for anyone. There is no need to erase differences in perspectives, and we should not abuse or belittle people that try to find meaning in their life (provided they are peaceful) through faith. I sometimes ponder whether the mathematical beauty of nature is suggestive of a non-physical being of consciousness and intelligence or it’s just random coincidence, but in the meantime, I won’t lose sight of what’s important, my moral compass.
Liberal minded woman who believes in equality for all regardless of gender/sexuality/status raised by a Muslim man. How the f*** did I turn out like this😉 Sorry, to disprove your perception!
Reading this article in the newspaper:
Having moved from growing up in the middle of nowhere as the only ethnic minority family to London was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I’ve now lived here for many years, and I absolutely love the cultural diversity, that’s one of the reasons you should definitely visit this vibrant city.
If I want to taste authentic Caribbean cuisine, I’ll head out to Brixton, and East London for Indian/Pakistani cuisine and clothes shops full of exquisite saris and lenghas. I won’t find that in the area where I live, and definitely not back in the village I grew up in!
With regards to travelling alone at night, I do agree it’s important for all women (not just tourists) to be vigilant of their surroundings. Often, if I’m not far from home, I will walk back late at night, but I will only take the main road (no shortcuts through side streets), or alternatively get a licenced cab back home whichever part of London I find myself in. It’s illegal to carry pepper spray, but I strongly recommend keeping a rape alarm in your bag on a night out. The greatest danger here is the binge drinking culture, when out with close female friends, on occasion they tend to get annihilated, making them vulnerable to predators, as a non-drinker, I make sure the taxi drops them off safely home first, me last, even if I’m closer. Don’t forget that bad things happen during the day too. Look at that poor Google employee who went for a jog in the woods in broad daylight on a Sunday a few miles from her parents home in Princeton, only to be murdered, stripped naked and her body burned.
My advice isn’t exclusively for just London, I think it applies to anywhere in the world, including China! I personally don’t know of any woman who needs to be told of the dangers of travelling alone late at night. Surely it’s just common sense? Whilst it’s not right, sadly there’s no guarantee any place is 100% safe, even the affluent areas, that’s just life!
Air China, please don’t incite racial prejudice. I’ve never felt uncomfortable or threatened around any race in London. In fact, I’m proud to have made close friends from different ethnic backgrounds. My father was Indian, mother Pakistani, and close friend Ghanan, all well-educated, respectful and kind people. Those words I read are extremely ignorant and offensive. Grow up, and stop stereotyping! The editor of this magazine and the writer should hold their head in shame and resign.
The only place I wouldn’t visit are those populated with ugly intolerant minds like yours. I absolutely abhor this side of human nature.
Abida (Arabic: عابدہ ) Islamic name meaning one who worships.
The journey to find my own truth has not been an easy one, and has raised many questions along the way. Are children born into a religion? Should we raise children in one’s religious tradition, or is that taking away the right to religious freedom?
Background: the daughter of Muslim immigrants, I grew up as the only ethnic minority child (apart from my brothers) in a tight knit White community.
The story begins: is morality inherent or learned?
As a child, I would often venture into my dad’s study filled with awe at all the books on the shelves spanning many genres from science and maths to geography and history. I noted though the top shelf had a collection of books on one man. I often wondered who the guy in the simple white cloth was.
One day, I had one of my friends over to play. As my friend left, I found that some of my Barbie clothes had gone missing. I immediately ran to my dad, and told him that I was angry that my friend had stole from me. My dad told me to come sit on the sofa and watch one of his favourite films, Richard Attenborough’s Gandhi (my dad was born in India, he was a young child during the partition, so this film was extremely poignant for him).
To this very day, there is one scene that I vividly recall. Gandhi was on hunger strike, and a Hindu man comes to him to confess the murder of a Muslim child, which he commits after his own son is murdered. The Hindu man begs for forgiveness, as he’s convinced he’s going to hell. Gandhi advises him to adopt a Muslim child and raise him as a Muslim. The moral was that the true test of redemption was to learn to love his ‘enemy’, and that did not have to mean forsaking his own religion, but to lose his hatred and become an understanding, tolerant Hindu. Wow, although I was young, I was blown away by the powerful message.
During the film, from the corner of my eye, I could see tears falling from my dad’s cheeks. Me: “What’s wrong, daddy?” Him: Beti (daughter), I was born in India and spent some of my childhood there. Being Muslim, we had to abandon our home and make the journey to the newly formed Pakistan. For days, we went without food, there were dead bodies lying along our path. Somehow my parents got separated from my grandparents and I, so I wasn’t sure if they were dead or alive.” He then looks at his finger which was crooked. “Daddy, what happened to your finger?” “I used to climb up trees with my childhood friend who was a Sikh, one day I fell, it just reminds me of him when I look at it.” Gasping for air, he says, “I found out that he was beaten to death by adult Muslims. I was horrified, an innocent young boy, he had no quarrel with anyone. I couldn’t reconcile it in my mind. Innocent men/women/children of all faiths being murdered or suffering, all I wanted was for it to end and to have a home again. I took a departure from my faith, realising that I didn’t need to pray five times a day to be a good Muslim, it was how I lived my life that mattered.”
The scene where Gandhi gets shot brings tears to my eyes. “What did you think of Gandhi, Beti?” “I love him, daddy, he was a good man.” “Me too, he said.” Grabbing my shoulders, he said, “I wanted you to watch the film to learn compassion, tolerance, and forgiveness. You must never have bitterness in your heart. Your friend is sad we must help her.” Me: “But she stole from me, isn’t that wrong?” Him: “We must understand what makes people do things. Her daddy has left.” Me: “Where’s he gone? When’s he coming back?” Him: I don’t think he’s coming back.” So off I went packing things to give to my friend. My dad passes me and asks what I’m doing. “I want to make my friend happy, what’s mine is hers,” I said.
The partition changed my dad’s view of the world. He believed in integration. His philosophy was that you respect the traditions and culture of the country that you live in. We celebrated Christmas and Easter like every other kid. Presents, sending cards, eating traditional Christmas dinner. In fact, my most precious memory was one Christmas when my dad bought me an awesome Barbie house and built it from scratch.
One of our neighbours was a Jehovah’s Witness. She would often come to our house and bring us a copy of a magazine called the watchtower. My dad would make me sit and listen to her. “Dad, she’s trying to convert us,” I said. “Does it matter, Beti? She does a lot of good things for the community, that’s all that matters.”
Learning tolerance & developing your own mind:
As I grew older, I was intrigued to learn more about Gandhi. His writing reflected someone that was unquestionably intellectually gifted, a deep thinker, humble, fair, just. In my eyes, he was nothing short of remarkable.
The early teenage years came, where I often asked “why”?, and I never stopped.
One day, my father called me to come sit with him. I could see the anger in his face. “What’s wrong dad?” “Abida, this is the first time I’ve had to discipline you. I was disappointed to learn that you removed yourself from school morning assembly and prayers. Why?” “Dad, I see no value in it, I only need my Maths & Physics books.” He gets up. “I did not raise you to be disrespectful, go to your room and come out when you realise why I’m angry.”
Astounded by his reaction, I ran to my bedroom and slammed the door. Why am I being punished?, he cannot tell me how to live my life. Then after some alone time I realised I was in the wrong. I came out of my room and approached my father. “I’m sorry,” dad. “Beti, you are being taught in a Christian school, singing and praying doesn’t make you Christian, it does, however, teach us tolerance, we must understand what’s important to others even if it’s not to us. You will apologise to your teachers and go back.”
Then that awkward question came. “Abida, do you believe in God?” I knew what he was alluding to, he was wondering how I identified myself. “Dad, I have my own mind, and cannot accept your truth, because faith must come from the heart, to know mine, I have to look at all truths, otherwise it would be hypocrisy. Where is the evidence for the existence of God?”
“Abida, faith cannot be deduced, it can only be felt. You’re close minded. I love the beauty of Mathematics. I came top in my country, gained a scholarship to the UK, top in my graduation year, hold a PhD, so you’re perplexed why I can accept both science and religious faith, but it needn’t be a contradiction. Whilst it’s true that science provides a set of tools that helps us to understand the many unknowns, there is also more to the world than science can see.
Don’t get me wrong, there have been times in my life (particularly so during the partition) I’ve questioned my faith, which can only be expected, given that faith requires some intangible element. But my open heart and mind still make me believe in allah.”
He puts his hand on my heart. “Abida, if you do not have faith, then you must be guided by your moral compass. You’re never superior to others, never inferior (remember Gandhi & the untouchables), be fair, value your integrity, always help those that are poor. Follow that, while seeking your own truth.”
My moral compass was set.
As a teenager, I had many questions, and was curious to learn what my dad’s opinions were as a Muslim.
This time, I asked my dad to sit on the sofa with me. “Dad, I’m going to be direct with you, answer these questions honestly.”
1. What is your opinion on the hijab?
Me: “When you took me to Pakistan as a child, an elderly man told you I should be wearing one. With the innocence of my youth, naturally I questioned why I had to wear one and neither you or the elderly man did. Your answer was that we had to respect the country we were visiting much like how we respect the traditions back home, which I would understand if we all had to wear one. Therefore, at 11, I felt your answer was incomplete.”
Him: “Abida, I’m indifferent to whether a female wears a headscarf or not. If a woman is religious and identifies the hijab with being a Muslim, and wears one of their own volition, then I see that as no different to how a nun dresses. As a child, you raised a valid point on being singled out for your gender, it isn’t for others to tell you what you should or shouldn’t wear, and if they do, they should follow suit. I’m a Muslim.”
“I hasten to add that in my family, it’s me that is oppressed. Look at this hideous orange jumper your mother knitted, two sizes too small, one arm longer than the other. This is what men do for love.”
2. What is your opinion on forced marriages?
There has been a lot of press on young British teenage girls from Pakistani families being sent back without finishing their education?
Him: “Firstly, forced marriages are forbidden in Islam. This is more a South Asian cultural issue, particularly amongst those from rural villages who are uneducated. You must understand that we view the world and judge others based upon our own perspective. I was brought up in a village, and it was commonplace to marry young, for them it is normal. If you’re alluding to whether I think females are there to just get married and have children, you’re wrong. I have a lot of respect for women, my mother had an exceptional work ethic. I strongly believe in education, and girls should go to university first, work for a bit then marry. As a father, my responsibility is to protect my children. If you married young with no education, and you were subject to domestic abuse, would I want you to stay and suffer? Education allows independence, particularly when women also suffer the stigma of divorce within that culture. Don’t forget who taught you Mathematics from an early age. There should be more women in the physical sciences and engineering. Women can do anything men can do. I’m a Muslim.”
“Abida, it’s important not to be prejudice. No Muslim is the same. Faith is not the enemy. Human beings are responsible for their actions. Without morality there is no religion.”
The first time I stepped into a mosque was for my father’s funeral. I dressed modestly wearing a hijab. As I was approaching, I noticed in the distance teenage boys verbally abusing (chanting go back home) women stepping out of the mosque.
As I entered, I walked passed my brothers. Their eyes bloodshot, faces pale from having to wash our dad’s dead body. I entered the women’s pray room. I saw the coffin at the front, the top was made of glass. I peered down, and all I saw was the shell of a man I didn’t recognise, horrified further by seeing that his tracheotomy tube had not been removed.
I was given a prayer mat, Quran and beads. I kneeled down on the floor. At that point my mother was in her own world next to the coffin, family was at the back of the room. I was right at the front alone.
I had absolutely no idea of what to do. Then came whispering from a group of women who were staring at me. They were speaking in Punjabi. “She doesn’t know what’s she’s doing. She’s very fair, I’m guessing she’s European,” they said. I kept a dignified silence, but inside I wanted to tell them not to judge me, my heart was already broken. I glanced at the closed doors, wishing I wasn’t segregated from my brothers.
The way I saw it was I had two options. Move to the back of the room away from prying eyes, or to sit it out. My moral compass pointed towards persevering, I just focused on copying the actions and words of the woman sat next to me. Then my mother joined in sometime after. At the end, I considered just ignoring those women as I left, but I realised that in life, I will always meet people that will judge me, it doesn’t necessarily mean they’re “bad” people, just that they have a different perspective. They would suffer a far greater judgement than me, constantly at the receiving end of islamophobic bigots for the way they dressed, that I believe is wrong. So, I stopped, said, “shukria, khuda hafiz” (translated: thank you, may God be your guardian). Their eyes popped, they weren’t expecting me to speak🙂 One woman put her hand on my shoulder as I left. “Islam welcomes everyone,” she said.
In complete contrast, my brothers found all the men in their room to be very supportive, teaching them what to do.
I wasn’t allowed to be at the burial, something that didn’t make sense to me. That’s when the realisation hit, only those that understand can be true believers.
A few years later, I find myself at another funeral, this time at a church. After the burial everyone makes their way out, but I stay and sit on a bench. A hand pressed against my shoulder. I look up and it’s the priest with his warm smile and friendly eyes. “You look puzzled,” he said. Me: “I’m trying to make sense of the world.” Him: “you might be there for sometime then.” We both laughed. Him: “Perhaps I can help.” Me: “I’m not religious.” Him: Who says you have to be? come into the church.”
“Father. I’m trying to find my truth. There are questions that I need answers to. One minute you’re here, next minute you’re gone. Why do we go through life experiencing happiness, sadness, anger, disappointment, hate, hurt, only for it to all end with such finality?
The people in my life that I love have their own faith (Islam, Christianity, Hinduism) or none (Atheism). I practice Ramadan because I like the meaning behind it, I love Christmas as a time to be with family & friends, I like the concept of karma and reincarnation.”
The priest: “do you believe in God?” “When I see children suffering, extremism, inequality, immigrants being dehumanised by the media/politicians, racial and religious hatred, my mind says no. Then I look at the mathematical beauty of nature, and my heart says yes. I guess anything is possible in the realm of conjecture.”
Who knows what truth is right? Anyone’s viewpoint is just as valid as anyone else’s viewpoint. We all have our own truth even if we cannot know with exact certainty what that truth is.
Whilst I don’t understand the rituals of religion, for me, it’s the inner voice of conscience “my moral compass” that continues to guide me.
My “teachers” are two men who had beautiful hearts, one Muslim (my dad) and one Hindu (Gandhi), divided by their faith, united by their moral compass. As my life continues to unfold, they keep me on the right path to truth. Perhaps we’re not that different after all…
Where: 5 Stable Street, N1C 4AB
What better way to spend a Saturday walking from Maida Vale via the Canal to Kings Cross and back again.
That total six mile journey makes me feel less guilty about stuffing myself with the best Indian food that I’ve sampled in London.
As you enter, there’s a big bar area downstairs. Upstairs we sat on a small table, and ordered the calamari which was amazing. They didn’t sell Coca Cola, but they did have the Indian version, Thums Up, which is very fittingly named.
We shared dishes, highly recommend trying the spiced potato dish. Then to finish it off, the dessert reminded me of mini milks as a kid. Their pistachio kulfi on a stick was just a perfect way to end a meal.
The last time I was in Kings Cross was when I was 18. My uni friend, Helen, took me to a club. On the streets were a lot of drug pushers, and I never ventured back since today.
Really loved this restaurant. Five stars for food and service. It’s definitely worth the wait.
Before I begin, I want to make clear that apart from this one time, I would never get up and leave without good reason. Even most recently when one of my colleagues went to the trouble of organising a night at the opera, everyone else bailed during various stages of the performance, but I stayed for the duration. When my colleague asked if I would go too, I simply told him that although it was an awful play giving me a migraine, I wasn’t abandoning him.
Anyone that has been on an internet date can relate to the issues that arise when meeting a stranger for the first time. This goes back years ago, I was 20, and had joined match.com. At that point, I was incredibly shy, never had a boyfriend before. My profile had respectable photos of me, and I made the effort of writing more than a few lines.
This man sends me a message, we communicate back and forth (nothing remotely suggestive), and eventually plan to meet up. It transpired that we lived two streets away from each other, so we met at a pub mid-way between us. I don’t drink alcohol, but he offers to buy me an orange juice, we sit and chat. At first he appears charming, confident, chatty, the complete opposite to me at that age. He proceeds to drink a few beers. Then randomly the conversation takes a turn. Him: “Drink up, let’s go back to mine.” Me (nervous): “I think that’s far too soon, I don’t know you at all.” Him: “If you don’t come back, don’t expect a second date.”
Wow! What an arrogant, obnoxious twat. I calmly got up, took £10 out of my purse and put it on the table (I didn’t want to “owe” him anything). I walked out. Funny thing was, he tried to contact me again, but his attempts were ignored.
Even a few years ago, he sent me a message, I didn’t even read it. Despite all those years that had passed, first impressions count, and my memory hadn’t forgotten him.
There’s a twist to the story, which was to make my skin crawl.
Four years ago, I was reading the newspaper, there was an article on him. He had been convicted of raping women (spanning years – one brave woman who he assaulted came forward, others were too scared initially, but then followed suit) and was jailed for life. It came as a shock, because this guy had it all, a lifestyle most would envy. A banker, earning six figures, his own home in a nice area. Yet, he had a dark side, controlling women to think they were beneath him.
I honestly didn’t think he was capable of that, but why would I? Despite the naivety of my youth, thank god, I didn’t drink alcohol, and had enough self-respect to instinctively walk away when someone spoke to me like he was in charge.
Be careful of meeting strangers, always tell a friend whom you’re meeting, and don’t get yourself drunk that you’re in a vulnerable position. I read recently that a teacher was murdered last year by their match date!
Quora Question: The only woman I’ve ever fell for doesn’t want me. How can I make her feel like I do?
I’ve been crazy about this woman for years, we went on a few dates, but then she became distant and I had to push to get her to see me. Now she says I shouldn’t put my life on hold, as she’s not ready for anything. I don’t like any other woman. I tried turning up at her work, her home, but she gets really awkward. Do women like persistence?
Whoa there, you turned up at her work and home unannounced, do you think this is normal behaviour?
Now I’ve scolded you for that, let’s get to the crux of your dilemma. I’m going to let you into a secret women won’t tell you. If she really likes a guy, she will continue to go on dates with him, period. If after a few, you don’t hear from her, it’s means she’s not particularly interested in pursuing things further. Women find being direct hard, because they don’t want to hurt the guy’s feelings, so they withdraw and hope they pick up on the signals.
It seems some men confuse this ‘take a hint’ lack of interest signal as ‘she wants me to chase her’
It’s possible that if you pursue intently enough, she may fall for you, but be warned, the attraction element maybe missing, and it becomes a one-sided relationship.
Kudos to her for being straight with you after a couple of dates. Rather than string you along further, she told you to not wait for her.
Being pushy and not respecting her decision is one thing, but stalking her at work & where she lives is damn right disgraceful. Pull your socks up, and listen up dude, stop thinking you know what’s best for her. She knows her own mind, and wants to move on, you’re not right for her. It’s a hard part of life realising that the people we fall for don’t always feel the same way. You can’t control or make feelings happen for her.
You’re contradicting yourself by saying that no other woman makes you feel the way she does. If that were true, then shoe on the other foot, if a woman liked you, but you had no desire to forge a future together, it would be OK for her to harass you without your consent?
Someone has to tell you straight for fear that you will get yourself into a lot of trouble. There’s a fine line between showing keenness and becoming obcessed. Do you want her to get a restraining order, because that’s where you’re heading sunshine.
Take my advice, as a woman who’s had to deal with men like you, including ex’s I haven’t seen in many years, who think it’s ok to keep my number and send me random messages. This is what you do:
- Delete her number and any other contact info from your phone
- Delete any past email correspondence between you
- Keep your mind preoccupied, so you don’t ‘online stalk her’ by looking at her social media accounts
- Never turn up to a woman’s place of work or residence unannounced
- Take time out and pursue interests
- Don’t whine or mope around, deal with it and start dating again
Contrary to this widely held delusional belief that there’s only one person you’ll ever fall for, the reality is that it’s simply bull s***!
My dad re-married my mum after having his heart broken, and he admitted he was extremely lucky to find such a warm loving person. My brother broke up with his ex of five years, but went on to marry the only woman that I considered a complete package for him. There are other people out there…
For God’s sake, have an ounce of self-respect. If you really love someone, you will sacrifice your own happiness for theirs, even if it means they are with someone else. Life’s too short to chase after something that only exists in your mind and not theirs…