They say that a chalice is the woman’s weapon, or her gift.

The gift she brings to the lost traveler, burning her bare feet on the sands.

The weapon she bears upward with a steady hand, her cloak on the wind like a standard.

And what you do not know

Is that she squeezed herself for you, drop by ruby drop,

Into her chalice.

Finding love isn’t easy in our day of age. It seems to be everywhere, and nowhere, all at once.

People have abused the term in every way; you almost never know if it’s ‘love love’ or just plain old ‘love.’ Is your fifth grade crush considered love? Most people would disagree, but who are we to define it for you?

I’ve heard people swear that they ‘fell’ at the first sight of their beloved. Others report that they joined the lovers’ club through arranged marriage. Perhaps these different stories are a sign that love can be found anywhere, regardless of your lifestyle, provided you look hard enough.

Instead of looking, however, we spend a lot of time fantasizing. Every girl, at one point or another, dreams of the one: that super hunk of a guy (who just happens to resemble her favorite movie star), possessing the awesome qualities of kindness and generosity. He will make her happy because he understands her like no other. Most girls will tell you that money doesn’t matter, love is what counts. Yet, as we mature, demands will become more practical.

A woman wants to be loved and cared for. And yet, why do women often make bad decisions when it comes to relationships? I believe that it is women in particular who want to make their dreams come true, and they often persist in illusions that soon end with divorce or a loveless marriage.

Society finds it easy to blame a woman if she makes a bad choice of partner, but I personally can’t. No one wants to be lonely. And what happens if you pass this opportunity and the next doesn’t show up at your doorstep?

I believe that women especially are pressured by society to look and act in a certain way. Unfortunately, if we don’t fit certain norms, we are often deemed unattractive and unwanted. No wonder women of the modern world suffer from low self-esteem and its consequences.

By ensuring that we are constantly under pressure to be perfect, society has conditioned us to clutch at straws wherein our relationships with men are concerned.

As candidly as possible, I say this: the one might never show up at your doorstep, dear female reader, but please don’t let that become a bother. You decide who the one, your soulmate, lover, spouse will be. He could even be that simple guy with a modest salary and crooked teeth.

Furthermore, simply falling in love is not the pinnacle of your achievement. It’s staying in love that counts.

A relationship entails a lot of effort, determination and prayer. Yes, you read that right: PRAYER. Relationships practically need a miracle to work, just as giving birth to a 9 lb baby does. Hollywood and other forms of entertainment may continue to brainwash and pressure us, advertising may taunt us with visions of bliss purchased via lavish presents from Burberry and Chanel, visions of the one on his white horse or Lamborghini will continue to be sold to us, but inside, we know the truth. Real life with real people doesn’t work that way.

So remember, love is what you make it, so make it right (and never lose your head… not even in the springtime)!

And she did.

“I can’t have children,” she said, tears streaming down her cheeks. She looked like a child who just learned that they had lost their parent forever. I didn’t know what to say to comfort her. I’ve only heard of such personal affairs in the old Egyptian classic movies I watched as a child. In one movie, the lead actress, Amina Rizk, gives up her true love and decides to share her husband with another, Huda Sultan, in hopes that her husband’s name will be passed on.

Noha calmed down once the waiter brought our food. She explained that the doctor determined that her husband was the infertile one, not her as they initially presumed. I confess, I was shocked. In Arab culture, infertility is always blamed on the female.

Even if a woman is strong enough to challenge her society and demand that the man take a fertility test, he almost would always refuse. Noha’s husband had a different view, thus the unfortunate results of the test.

I didn’t know what to say: “should I advise her to leave him or encourage her to just accept her destiny/test from God?”

Fortunately, Noha was loyal. She wanted to stay with her husband, no matter what the future looked like. She loved her first love and wanted to be with him, childless or not. Which made me wonder, if tables were turned, would her husband do the same?

Or would he betray her the first opportunity he gets to marry a second or third? Forgive my pessimism, but what I’ve seen/heard from Arab/Muslim men has only solidified my mistrust.

Middle Eastern and Asian cultures, as well as Islamic tradition, encourages couples to raise large families. As a result, infertile men and women are viewed as worthless contributors to their community. The communities will go out of their way to let the infertile couple/individual know that they are different and unwanted.

If the woman is infertile, other women in the community will hurry the poor husband to marry a second wife. One of my dear friends, Ghada, recounted to me how she faced malicious commentary from a group of native women from Pakistan, about her inability to conceive children. They repeatedly, in public, requested her to see a doctor, although they very well knew she had been married for 16 happy years.

Sometimes it’s difficult for some people to understand that you can be a happy couple without children, and that having children doesn’t guarantee eternal happiness.

My friend Noha’s story is repeated millions of times all over the world. It could happen to anybody regardless of their race, gender, nationality, religion, ethnicity, political beliefs and socioeconomic status. According to Wrong Diagnosis, 1 out of 136 women in the United States is infertile.

I believe a new couple should discuss the possibility of infertility in their relationship. They should set a plan for the “what if” situation in which they can’t have children.

Most Middle Eastern and Asian cultures don’t welcome the idea of adoption. However, in Islam it’s highly recommended to support an orphan child in the community.

A couple should reflect on the possibilities and outcomes. What if all else fails? Will they remain a couple, or give up on their relationship? I believe discussing the issue prior will reduce the pain and stress that later might appear. It’s important for new couples to know, infertility doesn’t have to doom a relationship, there are many solutions that cultural practices have often made us neglect.

I am happy to report that Noha’s and her husband’s prayers were answered and they are expecting their first child early this spring.

My profound problems with this so-called holiday run deeper than that.

Consider, for instance, the candy:

Too sweet, too artificial, inevitably heart-shaped, and always stuffed in a ridiculous box that no grown man (or woman) should be seen carrying in public. Indulge in a few of these, and you can actually feel your teeth rotting in your head for the rest of the day. No amount of toothpaste can quite erase the sticky film on the enamel. Drinking ten soft-drinks in a row is probably much, much healthier.

Then, of course, there is the rest of the merchandise:

I was in a store this week, searching for clothes for a formal occasion, when the salesman decided to force me to buy a sky-blue tie patterned with pink hearts and chubby cherubs. “Special promotion, sir.” At first I thought it would make for a nice joke-gift, until I realized that this “special promotion” actually cost approximately one hundred British pounds.

Of course, come February 15th, it will be lying in the bargain bin next to the pink, heart-shaped cuff-links, and God-knows-what-else.

On my way out of the store, a saleswoman with an evil grin sprayed me with something that came out of a (surprise!) pink bottle, and smelled like roses doused in sugar. She claimed that this was a cologne for men. Well, no woman should have to wear something like that either. It was more like perfume for chihuahuas.

The entire episode made me wish I could barricade myself in my house until February 15th had safely arrived, and avoid the bargain-bins henceforth for at least another week.

So, am I in favor of banning this ridiculous debacle of a holiday?

No.

As a matter of fact, I think that certain religious authorities have gone a trifle too far in banning the color red this week. They are only making the forbidden fruit that much (artificially) sweeter. Now there will be people who will celebrate this holiday simply because it is a rebellious thing to do. And we don’t need anything like that.

The minute that Valentine’s Day becomes a cool, “alternative” holiday for people who “oppose the system” and “question authority,” will also be the minute that I officially decamp to another planet. Or, at the very least, a deserted island somewhere.

In the dictionary

[revised edition, 1962]

And there we’ll be,

The two of you and me.

Yet on Tuesday they’re going to chop you off.

Years ago you gave my boys life.

Now they say by staying there

You can just about finish off mine.

Hated the way cold hands rushed

To have you squashed and squeezed.

Don’t they know, there’s no need

For all their flustered expertise.

You would never hurt me.

But it seems

Even government queues

Shrink in fear

Whehever the dreaded words

Breast cancer are heard.

Tentatively,

I cup both tenderly

As déjà vu comes seeping through

The thrill rides and all

The merry go rounds in between.

God, I can even feel

The pull and bite

Milky sips being gobbled up.

They couldn’t get enough, could they?

But then, neither could we.

Damn. Damn these stupid unstoppable tears

Splashing down on you.

Don’t want you to leave

Soggy as an old kitchen rag.

Come on, let’s plan it together your final hour.

Put on your pink Westwood corset

The one that always guaranteed cheers

And never failed to bring Pete

[he, who will miss you almost as much as me]

Down to his knees.

I’m doing it up now

As tight as I can

Hold on…. Can you still breathe.

One last thing before you go,

Don’t worry about the space you leave behind.

I’ll do you proud, whatever it takes

I’ll keep it in the style you were accustomed to,

Until it is time for me

To come looking for you

And we are whole,

Once more.