Let’s shift gears and talk about the solo missions.
No aunties. No algorithms. Just me, out in the wild. 😂
We’ve all heard the saying: If you want something badly enough, you have to go for it. Right?!
And I did want a husband badly enough that this wallflower decided to try speed dating… Muslim style. (I also tried the Western version. But we’ll save that adventure for another day.)
I found the first event on Facebook. I was hesitant, but figured:
What do I have to lose?
So, on the day of the event, I put on my makeup, a beautiful dress, drove 45 minutes, walked into a condo party room and registered. The event seemed to be organized by young people, so I thought, “Alright. Let’s give this a shot.”
We were seated at tables of four, two men and two women, with the men rotating when it was time to move on.
Let the “conversating” begin!!
Or so I thought…
Now, a little context: I’m a Black woman, and I’m very used to being the only Black woman in the room. Usually, I don’t think twice about it. I’m there for a purpose, just like everyone else.
But y’all…
I noticed very quickly that I was the odd person out at this predominantly South Asian event. I’ll be honest, I had also expected a more diverse event given the ethnic backgrounds in the city I lived in.
Every group of men that sat down proceeded to have a lovely little conversation with the other woman at the table — who happened to be the same race as them — while I essentially became part of the décor.
I was but another condo chair in the party room. Lol.
At one point, even she noticed and asked one group of men to ask me some questions.
Alas, they were saved by the bell. It was half-time. Time to eat.
So I grabbed my food and sat down again, because free food must not be wasted - I file that one under the letter U - lessons from University days. But I digress… A gentleman approached and took the seat in front of me. Honestly, I assumed he sat there because it was the only chair left. 😂
He started chatting, and we talked for a few minutes before he asked where I was from. I told him, then asked him the same question.
Turns out, he was from Bangladesh, the same country as my best friend.
I mentioned this to him as a fun fact.
And somehow… that was the end of the conversation. Literally.
I’m still not entirely sure what happened there. I didn't ask because I had zero energy left to pour into this event.
So, it was time for me to leave the Twilight Zone I had apparently wandered into.
One of my takeaways - race and culture definitely matter in Muslim dating, whether we like to admit it or not. We are not all "the same."
But oddly enough, I’m glad I went. I’ve been laughing at it ever since.
It put me in an uncomfortable situation, but it also taught me something important: someone not choosing you doesn’t automatically mean there’s something wrong with you.
Sometimes you’re just at the wrong table.
Literally.
And about 1.5 months later, I tried Muslim speed dating again.
This time, I decided to bring my problem-solving skills with me. Because apparently, I like a challenge. 😂
More on that next time…