My new job was going well, except for the fact that I was often working until 10 or 11pm. It meant that I often needed to get out of the office for an hour or so after work as a break, and I had the perfect excuse. Joe would take the subway up to my office where I'd meet up with him and offer him a lift home. Despite everything that had happened between us, we couldn't shake the connection we had. We could talk about everything and yet nothing. It was natural and easy and just...worked. There was something there that neither of us, it seemed, could ignore. So, the drive home was a perfect excuse for us to see each other on pretty much a daily basis. And the best part was that, when it didn't end in a high-five (I hate(!) the high-five), it ended with a kiss on my forehead. Sigh.... :)
On some level, I think my parents knew that I had liked Joe. At the time, I'm not sure if they knew to what extent, but the number of times I had mentioned him as 'my best friend, Joe', they must've known to some degree that I was either seeing him or really liked him. Looking back on things, that was definitely the hardest part of the relationship - hiding it. I could never share with my parents what I was going through and what I was feeling. And maybe I wouldn't have even if I could, but the option was never there. It was always about hiding things and twisting stories ever so slightly to ensure they wouldn't find out. And, a lot of guilt came with that. I hated hiding things from them - it was far from ideal. But, I imagine it's what most Indian women go through to try and live a relatively normal life and trying to balance their Eastern values with their Western cultural surroundings.
When I look back at it now, what I find most interesting is that I hid it from everyone in our community. I didn't tell anyone for fear that it would get back to my parents, which would be far worse than me telling them myself! By not telling anyone else, however, I never knew what other girls my age were going through. I didn't tell my cousins or family friends and chances are good that they were dating outside of our religion and going through similar scenarios. But, did they not tell me for the same reasons? Did we all have secret dating lives that we were, on some level, ashamed of or feared? I wasn't ashamed of Joe - I loved him and wanted to shout it out to the world. But, I couldn't. I would no longer be a 'good daughter' and my family's reputation would be in jeopardy if I had been caught dating a Muslim man. It was such an old-fashioned way of thinking. My parents believed it and it frustrated me that in today's world, in today's society, that they still cared. But, how could I blame them? Right or wrong, it's what they knew. It was engrained in them.
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