Dating independent Desi women is like dating someone who has Type A personality. They have their minds made up, they know what they want and there is no time for games or drama. It is about living and growing together to better both parties futures, instead of one persom dragging the other along.
Growing up as a middle child, I learned to be independent at a very young age. I tend to rely on myself instead of others. I learned to follow my heart and gut, rather than listen to the opinions of those around me. I applied to college on my own and planned my future without the consent of my family. I rarely relied on my family and friends in times of need, and learned to bottle things up. But when times got really tough, I realized being independent does not mean you have to rely only on yourself.
I was taught to live by Sikh morals and values, and our faith teaches us to be warriors, so sometimes expressing my feelings and asking for help was not always the first route taken. Also, naturally, being the middle child, suffering from middle child syndrome, I bottled things up. I kept to myself, and while I was very social, most of my friends knew little about me.
This tends to lead to problems with my personal relationships because I do not readily open up my feelings and emotions. It was not that I did not feel comfortable with my partner, but it was the idea of me relying on someone else, other than myself. But my most recent relationship taught me that it is safe to slowly open up and rely on someone else from time-to-time.
As the famed philosopher Socrates once said, “Some people build walls, not to keep others out, but to see who cares enough to break them down.”
This is the definition of an independent woman. I know I’m guilty of this. I tend to self-sabotage certain areas in my life, not because I’m not ready for it, but because if I hurt myself, then I can live with it, but the idea of someone I love breaking me down, that’s bothersome. More so, the idea of another person having that much of an affect over me, really scared me. But I never really understood it until my last relationship.
If you find yourself dating an independent woman, keep in mind that she will take some time to let her guard down, share all of her feelings or ask for help right away. And ladies, despite the internal battle within yourself, if you are with someone caring, take the plunge and make it work!
Here are some tips to keep in mind, when it comes to dating an independent Desi women:
If you find that she is pushing you away, fight for her! She is testing you to see if you will always be there, like you have been saying.
If she is taking time to open up to you, than know that you must be someone special. It is hard for an independent woman to rely on other people, so give her time to trust you on her own, don’t force her. Forcing her to do something she is not ready for will only push her further away.
Let her know that you are there to support her, not dothings for her. This will help her see that you want to help her achieve her goals and dreams.
If she says she wants some alone time to process her thoughts, believe her! She will call you when she is ready to talk with a better mindset.
If she is pursuing a demanding career that you may not be fond of, be patient and try to understand what she does for a living! Her passions and career goals may not match up to yours, but you can surely find a middle ground.
If she’s not ready for marriage and kids…well then, she’s not ready! Let her find herself, and if that means dating a couple more years, perhaps buy her a promise ring instead! Spend this time wisely because it will pass you by.
If she wants to spend some time with her girlfriends, trust her and let her go! She will send you cute, fun selfies, and even tell you she misses you!
Face it, sometimes we can be blunt and outspoken about your life choices or decisions, don’t take it personally! The intention is to help, not to bring you down.
And finally, if she says she’s not in the mood for some love-time-in-bed, respect her feelings! Try being romantic instead, and next time, you’ll surely get lucky!
Bonus tip: Sometimes we need to be called out on our bluffs, so call us out! A significant other who is not afraid to stand his/her ground, is someone an independent woman needs!
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Priya Kaur graduated from Texas Woman’s University with a Bachelors of Arts in Psychology. She is pursing her Master’s of Arts degree in Professional Counseling at Amberton University. Priya has more than four years of experience working with adults with severe mental health diagnosis’. She hopes to give insight to young South Asian women on a variety of topics, including relationships, culture, family life, personal concerns, etc.
NAKED: The Honest Musings of 2 Brown Women was born in the autumn of 2018, when Mimi Mutesa and Selvi M. Bunce began sharing their poetry collections. It was scary, beautiful, and terrifying when they decided to trust each other with their most intimate thoughts. Not only did they feel relieved after doing so, but Selvi and Mimi also felt more seen as women of color. They embarked on their publication journey, so others may feel as seen as they did on that fateful autumn.
“Ingrown Hair” deals with the themes of societal and family pressures that are reflected throughout NAKED. Mimi and Selvi have always written for themselves. They see poetry as an outlet, and their poems exemplify their personal frustration and vulnerability. “Ingrown Hair” speaks to Selvi’s experience with the societal pressures of South Asian women, such as getting married, being a good wife, becoming a good mother, and leading a certain kind of life.
There is something strange beneath my skin
telling me to build a house,
make a home,
mother children.
I am not sure how to reconcile it.
My mother was strong
and a mother after all.
My philosophy has been to spend my time
on myself and the world.
I have always thought
I could simply address the thing under my skin
when it finally crawled out.
But when my family starts guessing
who will get married first, and my father
has been saving wedding money for years,
I begin to wonder
if I will have to pluck it out.
The opinions expressed by the guest writer/blogger and those providing comments are theirs alone and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of Brown Girl Magazine, Inc., or any employee thereof. Brown Girl Magazine is not responsible for the accuracy of any of the information supplied by the guest writer/bloggers. This work is the opinion of the blogger. It is not the intention of Brown Girl Magazine to malign any religion, ethnic group, club, organization, company, or individual. If you’d like to submit a guest post, please follow the guidelines we’ve set forth here.
Growing up in suburban Connecticut, being the only brown face in a room has never fazed me. I was always the little brown girl in the corner with waist-length hair and a name that made every teacher pause, but the feeling of “otherness” captured in this line was something I knew all too well.
This feeling isn’t unique. It’s the same experience of many immigrants and first-generation South Asian Americans, and that of the main character of “The East Indian”as well.
While a work of fiction set in the 1630s, the novel paints a very real picture of immigration and race in the United States today and the human need to belong.
It is the story of Tony East Indian, inspired by a real person documented in the country’s archives as the first known East Indian in the American colonies, but who is otherwise a work of the author’s imagination and research.
The son of a courtesan from the Coromandel coast of India, Tony unwittingly finds himself as an indentured servant in the plantations of Jamestown, Virginia at just 11 years old.
He accepts “Tony” as his first name — though he doesn’t care for it — because a fellow Tamil once suggested others in the world would find his real name “too hard to utter.” Then he adopts the surname “East Indian” simply because it is thrust upon him when he arrived in Jamestown. The protagonist can no longer even recall his birth name, but soon, he accepts it as a thing of his past.
Over the course of the novel, Tony lands at the center of scandal as he works to establish a new identity as a physician. All the while, he also struggles with isolation, prejudice and the challenges of trying to maintain pieces of the culture he carried with him from abroad.
He is confused as to why Native Americans are also called “Indians” and many colonists simply label him a “moor,” a term used for North Africans or anyone with darker skin, with no context for India or its people in this new world.
He, feeling disloyal to his “many Gods,” converts from Hinduism to Christianity, believing it will give him more credibility and a sense of connection to his peers. He begins to eat meat and spend time at taverns, all in hopes of belonging, and assimilating with colonist ways.
As he comes of age and furthers his physician’s apprenticeship, Tony also begins to ponder questions of race and social class to no avail. He reflects:
“I would talk to Doctor Herman and try to understand the reason behind white skin and black and brown and, more important, what greater distinctions of wit, sensibility, and soul the differences in hue signified. I read and was taught by my master the new ideas put forth by men of learning in England and Europe on the workings of the bowels, the brain, the blood; the causes of migraines, melancholy, and madness, but I never got closer to understanding the real meaning behind what they called different races of men, and if such difference exists in any profound sense that really matters.”
Overall, in “The East Indian,” Tony becomes a man. He learns of the world’s cruelty and its kindness. He learns to work, play, love, hate, scheme, grieve and care for himself and others. But, like most immigrants, he still longs for home.
“For home is singular and unique. Everywhere else is but a stopping place, a bed in a stranger’s house, eating off plates not one’s own, an unfamiliar view from a casement,” Tony said.
When attempts to head West and find an ocean back to India fail, Tony accepts that returning to his motherland is unlikely and resolves that he must learn to adapt.
He worries his love interest, born in the colonies, will not relate to him, for “her heart did not ache for another place beyond the sea” and also wonders what the future of his children will be. Nevertheless, he is never defeated.
“I would thrive wherever the wind laid me,” says Tony. “[I] will be my own shelter, my landing place. Like a snail, I will carry home on my back, find it where I happen to be, make it from what I bear inside me.”
Leaving or even kidnapped from their homes with little to no hope of return, thousands of Indians faced journeys fraught with violence, condemnation and injustice trying to create new lives and identities away from their homeland in places like Mauritius, Fiji, Guyana, and Jamaica. However, like Tony, they also found the strength and courage to survive and establish their own cultures and communities.
While no details are known about the real Tony East Indian, Charry weaves a compelling coming-of-age tale that takes him as well as readers across three continents.
The novel, like life itself, has fast and slow moments, but it is filled with vivid, historically accurate depictions of the colonial world and moving moments that keep you rooting for the main character’s triumph.
It is this authenticity and compassion that makes “The East Indian” an invaluable modern work. There are no known first-hand accounts of the indentured or South Asian colonists in America. The only proof of the mere existence of many are the generations that have come after them.
With several years of research put into it, Charry’s “The East Indian” serves as a rare realistic portrayal of what life may have been for these individuals; the hardships they endured, and the strength they embodied. South Asian or not, it is a rich history not only worth reading but sharing and celebrating.
To learn more about Brinda Charry and her professional work visit her website. The East Indian is now available in print and audiobooks from all major book retailers.
Featured Image: Author Brinda Charry was born and raised in India before moving to the United States for graduate school two decades ago. She considers herself “a novelist-turned-academic-returned-novelist | Photo Credit: Lisa Arnold Photography
Social media has stretched a number of news headlines:
“Social media rots kids’ brains.”
“Social media is polarizing.”
Yet those most affected by social media ideals are the teenage users. Apps like Instagram and TikTok perpetuate an image of perfection that is captured in pictures and 30-second videos. As a result, many young women chase this expectation endlessly. “Her” personifies this perfection in an unattainable figure the narrator has always wished to be. These ideals deteriorate mental health, create body dysmorphia, promote a lack of self-esteem, and much more. Even so, social media is plagued by filters and editing—much of what we hope to achieve isn’t even real. Therefore, young women, much like the narrator of “Her,” strive for a reality that doesn’t even exist.
When she walked into my life
Her smile took up two pages of description
In a YA novel.
My arms could wrap around her waist twice
If she ever let anyone get that close
Her hair whipped winds with effortless beach waves
And a hint of natural coconut
Clothing brands were created around her
“One Size Fits All” one size to fit the girl who has it all
With comments swarning in hourglasses
But when sharp teeth nip at her collar,
She could bite back biting back
And simply smirked with juicy apple lips
Red hearts and sympathy masking condescension
“My body doesn’t take away from the beauty of yours”
“We are all equal, we are all beautiful”
Beauty
A sword she wields expertly
Snipping, changing,
Aphrodite in consistent perfection
Cutting remarks with sickly sweet syrup
And an innocent, lethal wink
When she walked into my life
She led my life.
My wardrobe winter trees
Barren, chopped in half
Unsuited for the holidays
Mirrors were refracted under in my gaze
Misaligned glass was the only explanation
For unsymmetrical features
And broken hands
Still I taped them fixed
Over and over
Poking, prodding
Hoping to mold stomach fat like wet clay
Defy gravity,
Move it upward
To chest
Instead of sagging beneath a belt on the last hole
In the spring
She would stir me awake at 2 AM
“You need to be me”
Lies spilled from her tongue but
Solidified, crystallized
Fabrication spelled dichotomy
And I drifted farther out to sea
When she walked out of my life,
I was drowning.
Reliance had me capsized
Others witnessed
Furrowed brows and glances away
Like spectators of a shark attack
They can watch but the damage is done
They clung to my mangled pieces
Gravestones spelled
“Stressed”
“Depressed”
But I was mourning too
Today I looked back at my mirror
But glass turned into prism
Broken pieces rainbow
Colors coating clothes
She didn’t pick
Aphrodite
Perception changing
She wasn’t perfect
Just lost at sea
The opinions expressed by the guest writer/blogger and those providing comments are theirs alone and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of Brown Girl Magazine, Inc., or any employee thereof. Brown Girl Magazine is not responsible for the accuracy of any of the information supplied by the guest writer/bloggers. This work is the opinion of the blogger. It is not the intention of Brown Girl Magazine to malign any religion, ethnic group, club, organization, company, or individual. If you’d like to submit a guest post, please follow the guidelines we’ve set forth here.
Priya Kaur graduated from Texas Woman’s University with a Bachelors of Arts in Psychology. She is pursing her Master’s of Arts degree in Professional Counseling at Amberton University. Priya has more than four years of experience working with adults with severe mental health diagnosis’. She hopes to give insight to young South Asian women on a variety of topics, including relationships, culture, family life, personal concerns, etc. 
