I’m American born, but balanced that line between Indian and American. For American boys, I was too Indian. For Indian boys, I was too American. Never officially dated and studied a lot. Went through countless meetings with boys from Indian matrimonial sites and never clicked with anyone. As I reached my 30s, the pressure started to mount.
I had pretty much given up on finding someone and had grown content with my work and small group of friends. My father sent me a random profile and said he wanted me to look at it. I was not at all interested. So, I pretended to be my dad and sent and email to his dad. His dad (who ended up being him) responded to my dad (me) that we should talk.
So, I send an email to the guy and wait to hear back. A month goes by and I’m like ok, fuck you then. Then, I get an email on the first of the new year in 2010. It’s him. He wanted to start the year off with me. We talk on email for a bit. Then, the phone. Visit in February. Married in March. We have a 6 year old son and he and my husband are my world. So, quasi arranged.