Into The Sunlight

I've finally clawed my way out of the pile of work I was snowed under the past couple of months, and while I was missing in action from the social scene, I was also technically MIA from the professional scene.

Even during work I disconnect from my colleagues who try their best not to get in my way. Yes I'm THAT bitter person who looks down on people who leave work during daylight hours and enjoy another life outside work.

It's when you are at your busiest that you want to be left alone, so that you can get on with work, so that you can meet demanding deadlines, so that you can get back home in time for bed.

If people around me cannot stand me during this phase, believe me when I tell you that I cannot stand me even more.

And while I'm heading towards social suicide, I try to advance my career so that I can have something, anything, to fall back on the day I find myself alone. And since my career is the one thing that is completely in my hands, I find it hard to simply let go.

Until then, my family and friends will continue to try and save me from myself. And I sincerely hope they succeed. Soon.

When Free Time Comes At A Price

When I was at university, I really looked forward to working. Not only because of the financial independence, but –in theory- the hours you spend at work can be clocked; you know you will be spending X hours at the office, working, and you know you’ll be spending X hours outside the office, doing whatever suits your fancy.

As a student, you clocked your classes and that was pretty much it. Everything else wasn’t so tangible, like projects and extra curriculum activities. In your head, these things took time, and because you don’t clock these you assumed the time taken was out of your free time.

I had major plans for when I started working, because then I wouldn't have to worry about going home and following up on school. Leaving the office carefree at 5 pm meant blocks of time to do stuff. I can finally dedicate some time to doing what everybody is trying to do, mainly exercising and finding a hobby of sorts to make me feel special. But reality was far from this; I assumed that when you left work, you physically left it behind, and that it wouldn’t follow you home like some stray cat who wants to get cozy with your shins.

I’m back to unclocked time, only this time it’s biting into my 11th hour.

I have learnt to become better organized and juggle the balancing act, but at the expense of "me time". I remember me times on my university schedule, it took the shape of movies, coffees, and daylight. I just didn't know it at the time.

Youth really is wasted on the young.

When Acting Dumb Pays Off

I graduated university cocky; my CV sexy, my interview witty and my job offer deserving of my name above the dotted line. Fast forward a few years and I'm torn apart and put back together, reprogrammed into an obedient puppet with an unfortunate case of people pleasing, banished into mundane corporate exile.

That's OK, I guess acting like I'm smart enough to run the company wasn't taken very well by senior management, and who wants to pick that battle right?

So I try to get my act together and switch strategies. Maybe my lack of experience (age actually) and my savvy accent (water is pronounced 'wader' in my neck of the woods) have a shelf life which expires as soon as the next mini me opens shop.

Beaten down and nursing a lukewarm mug of chai karak, I realize how exhausting it is to be smart. Not the bookish kind, nor the street type either, but the manipulating, influential kind that knows everybody (and their mothers) and is constantly two steps ahead of everybody else "smart."

I have since been on autopilot.

Doesn't life look more dandy when you just-stop-trying?

And stop trying I have. My boss thinks I'm one bored cookie and appears to be concerned with my lack of productivity/interest/noise/office entertainment. Mind you I'm not feigning sickness (nobody cares even if you are throwing up on your keyboard as long as you are delivering on time) but I have mastered the blue sky thinking with an air of disinterest, and this has pressed all kinds of buttons. To pull me out of this state of unbliss, The Boss opened the floodgates of the inner circle. I'm back doing things I thought I was running in my earlier corporate life, except this time I'm taken a bit more seriously.

Promotions vs. Proposals

I sincerely hope somebody can prove me wrong.

I've come to a depressing conclusion. Every time I get a promotion, my chances of getting a marriage proposal diminishes. It's a universal truth; you simply cannot have it all.

Earlier on in my career, a promotion was a sign of achievement and progress.  It meant that a leader recognized similar traits in me and expected me to take on bigger responsibilities. This entailed a fair share of celebration and sweets were in order.

But the last couple of promotions I received were pushed under the carpet. My mother didn't want me to make a big fuss about it.

Why? Because potential husbands and their mother don't want smart girls,  those who spend more time meeting businessmen in boardrooms instead of entertaining idle women at home. 

Does my promotion come with a big fat sign that says "not interested" ?

It's sad how society forgets that the skill set I learn on the job can help me tackle issues personally as well. Where else do you learn how to deal with people and finances and time management- issues that, in all likelihood, prepare me for the realities of marriage and in-laws?

I'm single and, for the time being, have "single" priorities. When the time comes, I'll be smart and make the right choices, but for now, don't dismiss me for being the best I can with the life I have.

Decency: A Codename For Discretion

For such a smart girl, you can be really stupid.

This is something I hear often from the women in my family.They compare me to girls that have managed to either charm or trap men into marrying them, both methods being completely effective and acceptable it seems.

These women wonder why a girl like me, who works in a place full of eligible and influential men, has not managed to get one of their mothers to call up my mother and pay the long awaited visit to my house.

This expectation goes against one solid principle that my upbringing was based on; Decency. But I think that somewhere along the way, decency got confused and replaced with discretion because it's discretion that these women want you to implicitly learn and master. Decency is just a cover.

So tell me o' wise one, how do you expect me to find someone, and then tie a big ribbon around it and pass the whole charade off as "na9eeb"?

Nobody has a non-divine answer to this, or that's what they tell me. Sure I have a couple of theories but I dont want to assume the worst in my fellow sisters. I am curious to know the secret though. I might even learn a few moves, if not for my sake then at least for the sake of the women I have shamingly disappointed.

To Be Caught In A Web

There is something very sexy about popularity. People automatically gravitate towards the person with the most charisma, charm and dash. You are either the one listening  (unpopular), or the one people are listening to (popular). In either case if you want to leave a lasting impression you have to do both with flare.

It is this flare that girls look for in a man. Yes you run the risk of getting blinded or even burnt by that flare but, for whatever reason, you want it, and so does everybody else.

I recently attended an event with the typical type of tier 1 and tier 2 guests. Tier 1s are the untouchables, while the tier 2s are the event junkies. You know which category you fall under depending on where you get seated and the distance between your chair and your neighbour's.

But if you are looking for the charmer, look at the sidelines. The person running around like a headless chicken and then collapsing in a heap in the corner afterwards is someone you should watch out for. Sure that person works hard, but think of all the people he had to sweet-talk to pull off an important event like this. If there's one web that you want to get caught in, this is it.

This isn't coming from a romatic sense. Being career smart isnt about befriending people at the top, it's getting to know the people who create networks for people at the top.

Girls complain that they dont't meet anyone interesting. Honey it's not going to happen if you limit your network to your colleagues at work. I understand that you dont have time to build and maintain relationships but getting access into somebody else's established network is a shortcut too good to ignore, specially if they are like another version of you.

The Girl That Everybody Wants But Nobody Wants To Have

I guess this space warrants a bit of history. 

Like other decent Emiratis, I am controlled by the reputation I have maintained since I hit puberty. The hidden objective? Marriage. 

Growing up, marriage was something that happened to other girls. I had single older relatives which meant I never realized that I was in some kind of line until the younger girls cut the line I was in. 

Before that rude interruption, I tried to enjoy life as innocently as I possibly could. Tried being the operative word. I had my share of meaningless fun but nothing that required expunging. If anything I was very prejudice towards other girls being in “relationships”. My sense of self discipline should have gotten me an award. I became known as distant and aloof. I’m not very social so I didn’t have a flock of friends, and I guess that had some kind of appeal to the opposite sex so I was never without any interested parties. 

Growing up, I never worried. Little did I know I was getting groomed to become the ultimate Emirtati wife. This meant having:

·         good breeding and lineage

·         old money

·         the right connections

·         a degree that would get me a government job that I can quit after baby numero uno

·         a face and body that would last until baby numero uno

And so I lived life not knowing that there was a grand plan in store for me. That plan was finally unveiled when we started receiving wedding for brides much younger than me. 

This was a pivotal point in my life. Marriage wasn’t defining my existence until society blamed me for not getting married. In their eyes, I wasn’t getting married because I work too hard, I study too much and I speak fluent English. 

Great. There went all the fun times I missed out on because, stupid me, I thought I was saving myself for a wonderful man in the most traditional sense possible. 

The kind of man I wanted was strong, educated and open-minded. But this man wanted someone he could control. And if he didn’t his mother certainly did. 

This realization broke me and led me to go through some very dark times in my life. Moments that I wouldn’t want to wish on anyone. It felt like I was handed the wrong manual to follow. I felt deceived. In following society’s rules, I had seamlessly ostracized myself.

I had never felt more lonely in my life.

But I’ve also had some very beautiful and loving moments that got me grounded again. These moments didn’t last long but they did give me hope. 

It is this hope that has fueled my desire to make my own happiness, and make up for lost time. This blog chronicles my attempts at finding and keeping love.

Truly,

J.