By As someone who has been in the dating market for a while, I have tried to find inventive ways of finding my “future husband.” I have tried Muslim matchmaking apps, hired a matchmaker, and asked aunties if they know any eligible bachelors. Unfortunately, none of these methods have worked very well. When I heard my local masjid was hosting a “speed dating” event for Muslims around my age, I was hopeful. Surely, the men I would meet at the masjid that day would be super respectful and kind. After all, what better way to meet pious members of our community than to attend our place of worship? But boy, I was in for a surprise.
The … woman [at the event] told me that Muslim men have told her that they like blonde women.
The event was held in a conference room at the masjid. I arrived early and sat at a table with two other young women. We all started talking, and we complained about our dating experiences. One woman told me she had been led on for months by a guy who ended up going for an arranged marriage with someone else instead. The other woman told me that Muslim men have told her that they like blonde women, as if she, a dark-haired Pakistani woman, was not good enough. I was shocked by these confessions, but not at all surprised.
Finding a good spouse has been hard for all of us. As more people arrived, the room became segregated by gender. All the men sat on one side, and all the women sat on the other. I was surprised by this because I thought the genders would feel free to intermingle for the purpose of finding a spouse. But the two sides didn’t want to talk to each other.
Once the room filled up, we were all then required to pick out a piece of candy. Depending on the candy we chose, we had to sit at the table that was associated with that candy. I picked up Sour Patch Kids and walked to my table. Once we were all settled in our seats, we started the event by playing games, as if we were children. We passed around a cup of M&M’s candies. Depending on the color we chose, we had to answer a question from a list we were given. For example, I picked out a brown M&M’s, and I had to answer the question “How do you respond to stress?” I told the members of my table that I like to meditate when I am stressed. My answer was true, but I could have easily made it up to make myself look good. How would they know the difference if they didn’t get the chance to really get to know me?
[Men] talked about their careers, while women talked about how they would be good wives. One girl … advertised her best-selling point being that she could cook. Once she said that all the guys turned to her immediately, with a sparkle in their eyes.
The cup got passed around and we proceeded to the game. As members of my table gave their answers, they would laugh at the questions and give generic answers. I also noticed the guys at my table got rowdy, and didn’t care to impress us women. They treated us like we were their “bros,” and made no effort to let us get to know them on a mature level. They may be my brothers in Islam, but they are not my bros.
When that activity was over, each table was given sticks and tape so we could build a small house. A guy at my table turned to me and said, “Excuse me, Madam, tape those pieces together,” he ordered, snapping his fingers at me. I got angry at his behavior, but I had to keep it together for the sake of the activity. And it was hard to not show my anger because I felt myself making angry faces. The moderators noticed and kept walking toward me with a smile. I felt bad for acting negatively, so I smiled back at them. The table behind me finished building their house first and were crowned the winners.
It was like they were saying to me, “You may be a professional artist, but of course, I know more than you, woman!”
We then broke for lunch, and my table started having our own conversation. I noticed when the men introduced themselves, they talked about their careers, while women talked about how they would be good wives. One girl at my table advertised her best-selling point being that she could cook. Once she said that all the guys turned to her immediately, with a sparkle in their eyes. Because what could make a better wife than someone who knows how to feed a grown man?
I spoke about how I was an artist, and although that was interesting, it didn’t seem to gather as much excitement as the girl who could cook. I noticed the people in the room started to make fun of some of the activities we did that day, such as answering the generic questions from the list we were given. I was glad I wasn’t the only one who found the activities to be childish.
Activities resumed, and the speed dating event was about to start. Chairs were lined up in two rows facing each other. The men were to sit on one side, and the women on the other. Every two minutes, I sat across from men who told me about the line of work they do.
Something I noticed is that when I mentioned I am an artist, some of the men I spoke to actually got competitive with me. They talked about how they did art too, and boasted about their knowledge of movies. It was like they were saying to me, “You may be a professional artist, but of course, I know more than you, woman!”
At one point, I sat across from the rude man who snapped his fingers at me earlier. He asked me who my favorite artist was, I said, “Rembrandt.” He asked me what I liked about Rembrandt’s paintings, and I told him I liked how the paintings made me feel. His face went blank and he raised his eyebrows, seemingly bored by my answer. “Okay, nice talking to you,” then he moved to the next chair.
Then I spoke to another guy, who this time, didn’t grill me about my career. He asked me if I feel like I’m finding what I’m looking for here. I laughed and said, “no.” Finally, someone being honest! Unfortunately, he then opened his mouth and said, “If I may make a suggestion. Men can tell when a woman doesn’t know what she wants.” he said, and then walked away. Was he trying to tell me that, in his eyes, I wasn’t marriage material? I was fuming.
Not only did I come across a room full of “pick-me” women, but I also came across insecure men who judged me up and down.
After that incredibly rude interaction, I walked out. I never thought men who attended the mosque would be so blatantly rude. I feel like none of the women who attended benefitted from the event. In fact, it seemed like the women were there for the men, and all the men had to offer us was their careers. All the women could talk about was how we could cook and clean. Nothing about our personalities, hobbies, or interests mattered to these men. Not only did I come across a room full of “pick-me” women, but I also came across insecure men who judged me up and down. What I also wanted to know was where was the flirtation.
I understand we were in a holy setting, but at the very least, the guys could have had some more decency and respect when they interacted with us women, instead of treating us as “friends” and putting their feelings first. Another thing I realized was how much I stood out compared to the other women. The women mostly wore little to no makeup, and if they did wear makeup, it was very light blush and lipstick. I, on the other hand, wore very bold and saturated makeup, with dark lipstick and big faux lashes.
I didn’t think there was anything wrong with this at the time, but I later learned that many Muslim guys actually don’t want their future wives to wear makeup at all, due to jealousy issues. Maybe I didn’t look like wifey material? Regardless of why things happened the way they did, I gained valuable lessons in what I do and do not want from my future spouse.
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