Don’t be someone’s holiday in Goa

5 Jan

The reason I cannot seem to delete this blog or abandon it completely is I want it to serve as a warning, a giant red “Turn Back!” sign to any dreamy girl who is about to have her entire life altered falling in love with a Nepali boy who only plans to treat her as his “Holiday in Goa.”  A good time.  A fun waste of time before the inevitable arranged marriage to a girl of his mother’s choosing.

I’ve delayed writing this post because I haven’t found a way to do it that doesn’t sound bitter.  That is truthfully not an emotion I have at all, but I do carry a great deal of sadness and a heaviness in my soul from the hopeful years spent loving and believing  Simba that our love was till death do us part.  The unconditional forever kind.  With lots of beautiful babies that we would take with us to our Alma Mater and share cheesy stories with them about the place their parents fell in love.

A few months ago a friend invited me to a football game at this magical place, and as I watched the band pep the crowd up my eyes fixated on the kids dressed in team colors rolling down the hill and laughing so sweetly as their proud parents took pictures and shared knowing looks.  I immediately pulled my sunglasses down off my my head to cover my eyes that were rapidly spilling tears that could not be dissuaded.

The price for loving him was so painfully steep and irreversible.  It cost me the chance to be a mom and have a family, and nothing else mattered more.  He knew that from day one.   He knew it.  Why did he drag out so many years making promises he had no intention of keeping ? More importantly, why did I let him?

He has a perfect little family now living a dream life on the other side of the country.  The near decade we spent sharing life and dreams is nothing but a very distant memory to him now.  No scars to show, no consequences to bear.

All the way back in 2009 when I had not yet told my mom about the transition from deep friendship to an actual relationship with Simba, she guessed it right away.  She said “I know you aren’t telling me something, because your eyes are literally sparkling.  I have never seen your eyes so happy.”  It was true, he absolutely did make my eyes shine with happiness for many years.

The moment I sat sobbing alone in a hospital room when I lost our child in 2015, I instinctively knew that light was forever extinguished.  That was my last chance, and a loss so immense that I quite literally walked the ledge to taking my own life.  An angel on earth disguised as a dog saved my life that week, and truthfully has continued to save it.  She’s my everything, but that is a story for another time.

Girls, listen up.  We do not have the same luxury to waste years and still end up with a family.  Two years ago I took a major plunge and made an appointment at a fertility clinic to discuss what options might be available to still be a mom even though I was far too broken to love anyone else, and time simply wasn’t on my side for that option anyway.  I spent hours being poked, prodded, and asked every invasive question possible.  Finally it was time to actually sit with the head fertility specialist doctor.  The guy who started the place and had framed pictures of the babies he helped bring to the world all over his office.

There were two chairs set up across the desk from him.  It was obvious that he was accustomed to talking with couples, and within a few minutes it became clear that had no real interest in helping me if I didn’t have a husband sitting next to me.  He said “Listen, this conversation usually takes place with a couple who have been together and actively trying for a year or so.  For most people in life they meet someone, fall in love, get married, and have babies.  It sounds like you should have thought about that a few years ago with this fella you were serious with and you’d have that too.”

To say I was stunned by his callous judgement that was so completely off base and cruel is an understatement.  If only he had known just how I poured my heart, soul, mind, and body into that relationship with Simba.  I truly gave it my all, of that I am certain.

But that was foolish on my part and I should have walked away much sooner, while time and youth was on my side.  I urge anyone reading this to truly consider what the worst case consequences can be if things don’t turn out the way you dream.  If you are a “white girl” in love with a foreign boy who promises you the world, please consider your life in a decade without any family or kids of your own while he sits on lavish beaches across the world with his arranged marriage wife and their kid(s).  It will hurt more than I could ever convey in a silly blog.

Guys, if you love one of these white girls, please just let her go unless you will follow through on your words.  Don’t promise her forever, knowing in your mind that you will be able to fall back on an arranged marriage and she will not.  If you love her, let her go.  Do the right thing.

That’s all for now.  This has been cathartic to write, and I’m sorry it was not more cheerful or easy to read.  This is still a beautiful life and full of moments of joy when I work with animals and children.  I volunteer with a few nonprofits and one little girl I work with was born without any eyes.  She also happens to be exactly 2 months older than the daughter I lost with Simba would be today.  It has taken months to earn her trust, but the absolute best moment of 2019 was when she threw her arms around my neck and leaned into me as I held her.  She gently touched my face and smiled and laid her head down to gently snuggle into my shoulder.  It took my breath away, and I’m keenly aware that these moments would be constant if our daughter had survived.

He gets to experience that joy and wonder every single day.  I’m so glad he does, because I will always care deeply for him and want the absolute best for him.  I would never wish to take that away from him, but I only wish he had considered what his actions would permanently take away from me.

Please reach out to me if you find yourself at the beginning of my story.  I promise I will listen, and I do remember what it was like to be on that side.  Namaste

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