Beirut Notebook: May you be next in line; 3a2belik

"So believe too in the princesses themselves, believe that marriage isn’t the only goal a girl can set for herself"

BEIRUT: Perhaps one of the most common words that a young woman in Lebanon hears is "3a2belik", meaning that may we one day see you in the position of the person doing something special, who in this case is most probably someone getting married.

"So", my mum’s grandma’s cousin would ask me "what do you do, dear?’’ "I’m majoring in Journalism,’’ I’d say and brace myself for what comes next. ‘’That’s good’’ she’d reply all-knowingly, "education is very important for the girl nowadays’’ and I’d think to myself, wow somebody finally gets it. Then, she’ll continue "when you get married you can teach your kids well, and help them out with their homework.’’

At times like this I feel the sudden urge to bang my head on the table so maybe I would pass out on the spot, and die and that seems like a much more sensible thing to do in such situations than to sit and listen to such nonsense, but of course I don’t, I simply do what any properly raised Lebanese girl would do, I flash her my brightest smile and say "Inshallah, God willing." That would only encourage her.

"You don’t want your ovaries to dry up, do you?" I’d simply shake my head and try to keep busy with swiping away invisible dust particles from my hijab. "Well, that’s what happened to Tahani, my friend’s daughter her ovaries dried up, and her husband divorced her. After all, he’s a man and a man wants a baby to carry his name, am I right?"

I usually nod meekly at such stories without referring to the level of ignorance that her husband must have been in. I bet that this Tahani would have been shamed by those around her if she left her husband if their roles were reversed, and he was the one who wasn’t able to have kids. The level of sacrifice that women are supposed to abide by in our society infuriates me.

So the question asks itself, how do you explain to an 80-year-old aging woman the importance of self-actualization, and maturity before marriage? How do you explain to this innocent old lady, whose mentality represents part of our society that marriage is a station in a girl’s life, it’s not the ambition, the goal, and the dream? It’s a chapter and not the whole book.

If marriage is the axis that a girl’s life spins upon, then staying single is the incorrect variable that ruins the whole equation, and it shouldn’t be. I’m not encouraging girls to remain single, rather I’m urging, or submitting a plea to the girls of my country: Marry the guy that feels like coming home, the guy that gives you butterflies in your stomach, not the first man who knocks on your door with an engagement ring, and empty promises. Not because your ovaries are going to magically dry up at 30 years old, and certainly not because most of your friends and relatives have a sparkly ring on the third finger of their right hand.

Just last week I got invited to the baby shower of one of my distant relatives who got married at the ripe age of 17 and now is pregnant with a baby boy.

I couldn’t get over the nagging feeling that his mum was too young to be responsible for a tiny human being, whilst being a child herself.

When I confronted my mum about this she shrugged it off, after all, what did she have to say? It was their life, after all, she said. I sat in the baby shower stunned and confused, all of the girl’s friends were in her age category, and with a similar marital status. My curiosity got the better of me and I cornered a less intimidating looking 17-year-old married girl and asked why she had married so early. The young girl gave me a bewildered expression and then took the time and energy to tell me that she couldn’t possibly give up the opportunity of getting married to a ‘prestigious’ man simply because she was too young, which she was quick to point out.

Did I know that if she got married later on in life her ovaries might be dried up by then, and she’d miss her chance at motherhood? I simply stared at her, too stunned to say anything. What could I say? Would it be wise to point out that her ovaries wouldn’t ‘dry up’ before she’s at least 45? Would it be wise to tell her that statistics have proven that children of mothers with established careers are more likely to do well in school than children with stay at home mums? Would it be wise to tell her that she should contribute something else to our society and community besides the three or four kids she might have?

But I learned something profound that afternoon among'st those pregnant teenage girls, and there ever so proud mothers. I learned who I didn’t want to be in my life. I didn’t want to be some superficial girl who’d get her "prestige" from her husband. I wouldn’t want to be that type of role model to my daughter -should I have any- to grow up knowing that she isn’t confined to being a housewife, and a mother. And although those are pretty important jobs, on their own just aren’t always enough nowadays

I want her to be all that and more, and for that to happen she should have a living, breathing example within the walls of her home.

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Annahar’s "Beirut Notebook" is an ongoing series of personal essays, from our readers, citizen journalists, and our own correspondents, on their life experiences, ranging from work, travel, encounters, Lebanon living, solutions, fashion, cuisine, culture, family, tech, sport, study, and more. No politics, just Life.