It is stressful to be 35, single and a doctor. People keep telling me I am an “eligible bachelor.” I have been receiving proposals from families I have never even met and even strangers. The pressure is constant. My parents have long given up on me, I think. They’ve tried to introduce me to almost 50 women since I graduated from medical school 10 years ago. I don’t know if I should feel flattered, but the truth is… I AM NOT. I just don’t see myself marrying. And I don’t owe anyone my reasons. I will keep it to myself.
The only person I can ever turn to is my colleague and close friend of 15 years. We went through medical school together and now we’re both general practitioners. Aziz is married with kids and he’s always curious how I control my desires. He says it’s common for women not to marry, but for men, it’s different, it’s tougher. One day he looked at me and asked, “Bidin, I really don’t know how you do it. Are you asexual or something?” I laughed it off and said, “Nooo,” but I could see the suspicion in his eyes.
What we share outside of work is kickboxing. Very exhilarating and manly. Every weekend we hit the gym together, sweating it out until we’re both exhausted but refreshed. It’s our thing. It makes us feel alive, strong and masculine. But this morning was different. A woman at the gym was openly flirting with me. Aziz kept grinning, clearly entertained, but as always, I ignored her politely, just as I have with so many other women before.
Afterwards, Aziz couldn’t hold it in. “Omg, Bidin, I cannot believe you didn’t respond to her. She’s so attractive! I mean, I am married, but if I wasn’t, I would want to get to know her instantly. I really don’t know you, man.”
I told him simply, “There’s nothing to wonder. She is not my type. If I don’t like, I don’t like. I am honest with my feelings.”
Then he asked again, “So who is your type?” I stayed quiet and told him not to be a busybody.
That night, as usual, I cried to Allah after my prayers. I asked Allah to help me with my feelings, to keep me away from anything that displeases Him. Because I am human. I have desires. I wanted to tell Aziz that yes, I do feel desire. Yes, I do want to love and be loved. But how could I? When he asked me who my type was, I almost gave in. I almost told him.
I almost told him that he is my type.
But Aziz and Bidin is impossible. It should be Azizah and Bidin. That’s the only acceptable answer. That’s the only way this story could ever make sense.
Yet here I am, drowning under the weight of what I can’t say. I don’t know how long I can keep suppressing this within myself. I am scared of what will happen if one day I can’t hold it in any longer.
NAME (PSEUDONYM) : Bidin
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