Love in medieval ways under modern-age conditions.

Part of the reason I am not a big dater at this point in my life is men. Straight up—men. I like them, but God knows every time I try to put my mind to it and give dating a chance, I get frustrated and step back into my bubble.

Getting to write tonight's blog was hard for me. It almost triggered me into not wanting to open my laptop. Usually, when I have too many thoughts on a subject, it doesn't take much time for me to gather and organize them and get to my conclusion.

Part of my writing journey is about breaking the cycle of ignoring what's in my brain when things don’t make sense in the way I want them to. I always expect things to align with my logic, and if they don't, I feel like I've lost control and start to fill voids that weren't there to begin with. While this afternoon's writing is not going to end the way I want it to—without any sense or solution—I decided to write it anyway.

One of the things life experience taught me is that when things don’t make sense to us and we feel like there’s no ending to it, we should probably sit and let it be. One day it may make sense, and another day it may not. The point is, don’t expect life experiences to start with an introduction and end like a movie.

I totally believe growing up in a society that idealized love and marriage, making it seem like love is all we’re fit for, made dating and thinking about the future way harder than it should be. You grow up around girls who are just understanding what love is, girls whose faces are glowing from what they call love, and girls who won’t stop talking about their "other half." You start to believe that’s it—that’s what you need, that is your way out. And God forbid their fathers weren’t there.

Day by day, you either fall into the trap of constantly dating or you wait for young love to magically appear until the wait kills you and you feel like your time’s up, even though you’ve just hit puberty. Insecurities start to pile up on you. Maybe I am the problem. Maybe it’s my body. Maybe it’s my mind. Maybe it’s my background. It’s all we’ve been taught—love.

So you take a look around and try to understand where young love took the girls you grew up patiently wanting to be like...but none of them are around anymore. One is drowning in raising a whole family by herself—her husband included. Another’s love is nowhere to be found. And another is having babies just to win her husband’s love back.

I took that as a win. I thought I got away from our modern society’s version of love. I realized it’s a society programming me to love in medieval ways under modern-age conditions.

I took a look around and found 21-year-old women living with 31-year-old brains, trying to find love in man-children in their 20s who haven’t developed empathy yet.

I got out. I lived my teenage years to the fullest, ignoring my thirst for love, and, baby, I had a blast. Every decision I made made sense. Every time I thought I was depriving myself of something superior, life hit me with an example that confirmed my suspicion.

I understood men, their brains, their way of thinking, the way they function, and how to knock their entire existence with a single move. I built the wall I needed to build in order to avoid any potential heartbreak. Instead, I enjoyed my female friendships. I found the love I was longing for in them, and God knows how thankful I am to have my girls around me to this day.

But at that time, I did not understand that not all of us live with the same principles...and Miranda became my first heartbreak.

Not Alex from kindergarten, not Dean from elementary school, nor Ostin from high school

...just Miranda.

When the reality hit me—that you can’t avoid men being the reason behind breaking your heart and avoiding life in general—I felt like the life I built for myself was collapsing. But in the end, it turned out it’s just the wall, not my entire life. It’s just a poorly built wall you can rebuild a million times once you realize life is not just about men. I thought I was running away from men, but I was just unconsciously building my life around them.

It took me time to get over that heartbreak. I had to learn many things about myself in order to move on. I had to learn that not every woman values friendship the same way I do. Some of them are able to find really good men for them and base their entire lives around them without a single problem, and I shouldn’t be the one judging them for it.

That day, December 13, 2022, I got out and sat in a random café by myself. I thought to myself:

"There’s obviously something you’re doing that is not right. You need to figure it out and understand that it’s okay to have both things: friendships and romance. I know you feel like you’re the problem, but believe me, you’re not. Just let it be and see where dating takes you. Leave that wall behind and put yourself out there. Ignore your fear of ending up alone but also ending up with the wrong person at the same time. You’re still young; there’s much more for you to learn."

Looking back, I realized how harsh those words were. I thought I was trying to break free, but instead, I was just trying to fit. I also had many fears, and one of them was turning into Miranda for my other lovely friends. Every time I heard the Billie Eilish verse:

Now all of my friends are missing again 'Cause that's what happens when you fall in love You don't have the time, you leave them all behind And you tell yourself it's fine, you're just in love

I felt chills down my spine. I lived in fear.

not realizing I've been in a relationship before and i haven't done that to anyone of them, AT ALL.

So I got out there, day by day, date by date, guy by guy. I started to feel stuck. I realized how dirty the age range I was seeing was doing me. None of them felt right; none of them was right. I felt like that kid again—the girl who thought men would give me the glow of a $1,000 facial, the brain rest most women feel in the presence of their loved ones. I felt trapped.

There’s a verse in the Quran that was always stuck in my mind:

"And We created you in pairs" (78:8).

But I felt like no one was created for me, These were the darkest times of my life.

And by the age of 21, after nearly three years, I realized how dirty I was doing myself. I looked at society but never at myself in the mirror. I had it all—the glow and the mindset.

What initially got me to this topic: earlier today, I went out to celebrate one of my girlfriends’ birthdays. Breakfast by the beach and fun—I had a joyful day.

Naomi turned 20. We also had Esther and Isabella, and of course, some of our guy friends. And we FaceTimed our other girl who initially put the group together—Aila.

I had a blast. I made a core memory and moments I’ll never forget, but along the way, I felt a small knot in my stomach. I did not like the presence of the guys around us at all. I usually either have fun or don’t mind them, but this time I felt like it would’ve gone so much better without them. I can’t explain it without sounding like the person who sucks the fun out of something—because I really didn’t, and I made sure the birthday girl had a blast. But every time I go out with a guy under the age of 35, I feel concerned for humanity. Like, please read the room and act right. They’re not even awful people; I personally trust them. But noticing some of their manners and how they act made me realize at the end of the day how a 21-year-old woman is way different from a 21-year-old man.

The whole morning I felt in heaven. Every time I heard one of my girls’ voices, I felt in heaven—literally.

Esther felt like home. I wanted to be all over her the whole time. Her hand’s touch made me feel safe. I feel at home when I am around her.

Isabella had the mother vibes. Her existence screamed perfection and love. Every time my eyes stumbled on her face, I felt like telling her everything that’s wrong with me. She gets me.

Aila felt like all of that and more—she's the woman my inner child found healing in, the one who made me appreciate life and every aspect of it.

I wanted to hold onto every single one of them from the sheer comfort they gave me.
And the boys? They were just there.

I hate to be critical—God knows they haven’t done anything wrong—but when the realization hit me, and I saw the differences between us, I finally understood.

Here’s the point I’m trying to make: over these past three years, I’ve come to the realization that, even though they’re rare, good men still exist. Guys like our friend are fine—it’s just that they’re still in the process of growing into the right shape.
For the longest time, I couldn’t figure out why I hadn’t found the ideal guy who balances both worlds. The truth was, I hadn’t been around the right men in the first place, nor was it the right timing.

Yes, I am very mature for my age. But there are so many things out there that deserve my attention more than dating. I have so much work to do, and if I’m being honest, some of the self-development I’ve done hasn’t been about self-love—it’s been about making myself more lovable to men.

That’s the hard truth. I’m better now, and deep down, I know I’d be a great person to date now. But it’s still not my time.

What I love about writing is how it makes you unpack and visualize things you hadn’t clearly acknowledged, including trauma. And today’s blog made me realize how deeply traumatized I am by men.

This next part is going to be hard for you to hear—it’s hard for me too.
You know that annoying phrase people say about dating: “Love comes when you least expect it”?
Maturing is making me start to believe that it might actually be true.

Your timing for things is different from everyone else’s. Love may happen, or it may never happen. But as time passes, you’ll reach a point in your life where you’re completely okay with either outcome.

Tonight, I’m leaving this page with no conclusion. All I’m going to do is sit, go back to doing what I love, focus on pampering the child society misled, and appreciate all the other forms of love life has given me.

Who knows what’s next.