The Trouble with Hating You

by Sajni Patel

If I wanted to answer to a man for the rest of my life, I’d just live with my father. Thanks to a culture where our twenties meant draconian aunties swooping in to play matchmaker, I had to battle the nauseating notion of lifelong commitment.

More times than not, I was happy to come home to an empty apartment. Peace. Quiet. Freedom. I didn’t have to answer to my parents or some man, or hurry to make dinner for anyone. I bought and owned everything to my liking, no compromises.

“Love is enough. It’s society’s views and old-world thinking that broke everything.”

In the back, we whispered, watched others, giggled at the kids, and ignored whatever was being said up front because today’s sermon was about the good wife. The diligent, flawless, presentable woman who was educated and obedient, who cooked and cleaned and raised the kids, but also contributed by working. She never spoke out of turn and always agreed with her husband, the head of the house, because any reproach on her was a reproach on her husband, on her family, on her name.

Honesty was a good thing, but it was alarming to realize how easily men objectified women and thought a fancy dinner equated to a night in their bed. Who was I kidding? I was dressed to say the same thing.

No matter where I looked, my gaze fell on happy couples and joyous families. Why didn’t I have any of this? My relationship with my parents left much to be desired. My relationships with most people were superficial at best. My relationship with a man was nonexistent. I could strive for anything in the world and get it…except this.

You’re the madness I need, the passion I breathe, the spark that brings me to life. I will go wherever you are.”