“I really thought a few days before writing this post but seems like I couldn’t censure myself. Therefor I would like to apologize if some people get offended or hurt by this post. I guess life can be hard so can the truth!”
I sometime don’t believe in love. Well to be more accurate I do believe in love but not in the fact that someone will be interested by me just for me. I swear there is nothing wrong with my self-confidence. For those who don’t know me I am neither ugly nor un-loveable. I only have a “handicap” that may not be seen by others as a handicap… I have a French passport. The handicap is not related to the actual president neither to the fact that I love smelly cheeses.
Let me explain myself… As you all dear readers may have figured it out, I am Iranian. Well actually I am just half Iranian and half French. I was raised in both culture but God knows why I turned out to be more Iranian than French (guess it’s a question of personality and character). Iranian girls tend to prefer to marry Iranian guys for cultural reasons (dads are more willingly to give their daughters’ hand to Iranian guys) and also religious matters (Muslim girls can only marry Muslim guys). When you grew up having a male figure (not only talking about our fathers but also Fardin!), we expect to find a man who is a real man who’s proud, strong, romantic, jealous, “bagheyrat”, traditional and so much more… Ah Fardin (*Persian version of James Dean) made us all dream for many years! Nowadays sadly they’re practically no men like Fardin (or at least the characters he was playing in his movies).
When you grew up far from Iran, even though you went every summer, you were protected by how men turned out to be. You are only amused by how many people every year make “jokes” about you being their daughter in law. Well at least you think they are joking.
Then comes the time when you get older. University, everyday life, adult stuff,… lots of new stuffs happen that you never imagined they would be so “complicated”. There you are struggling with adult’s problems and you have no idea of what’s next. At a point you’re going to learn that the “Fardin” men model is just like Santa or the tooth fairy.
But something worst is going to happen… All your life you’ve been juggling between the fact that you are not totally “occidental” neither totally Iranian. The fact that when you’re in Iran people are treating you as a special person made you till then so fuzzy. It’s so good to feel the love, even though you know it’s because you’re from abroad. You’re a “foreigner” in a good way. You are not the type of foreigner that Trumps wants to keep away from the States.
Well this “plus” that made you so special is going to be you’re worst enemy. When you’ll be old enough to date/marry, guys are going to hunt you! If you’re stupid & ugly they don’t care. All they’re interested in is your double nationality – and clearly not the Iranian one. (The positive side is that even really ugly girls can get a rich and gorgeous man!)
They claim to fall hard for you even though they don’t even know you. Even when they’ve never seen a picture of you, they turn out to be “your true and only Romeo” ready to sweep you off your feet with the most charming lies.
The first one you tend to believe him. The second one you’re still blind and feel amused by this law of attraction. Then comes the third one… And so on.
At the end when someone tells you they love you, you take it as if they just said hello. Deep down you feel like you’re nothing more than a way out of this country. You feel like you don’t count. You wonder why you tortured yourself with studies, diets, acne treatment… Seriously, you feel like love nowadays has a price and you don’t count. When I hear famous people complaining about the fact that people befriending or dating them only for their money & fame, I so understand them. Even if I don’t have the same number of zeros in my bank account.
Hum… I guess back when women were considered as objects at least their looks mattered, now they’re no parts of us that really matters. Yes I know I’m saying I preferred when women were sexual object than just a getaway. All the feminist coming here are going to think that I’m just crazy. But I guess they don’t know how it’s to feel like your true essence doesn’t matter exist at all … or do they?
Thank God at least I am not blond, gorgeous, sexy, beautiful, rich, funny, intelligent and have a “foreign” nationality!