Dear Suitor

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single woman in a Kuwaiti household, must be in want of a husband. And so the search starts, not with a glass slipper, but with an interrogation. A Kuwaiti woman sits through several meetings with potential candidates. Will any stick on for the next stage of courtship? For those not living in Kuwait: one of the ways a woman meets her prospective husband is for the man's family to call the woman's parents for an initial meeting. He will come over to sit and meet with her. If both sides find the meeting agreeable, they start the engagement talks. But what if you don't click from the first meeting? What if he doesn't even have an interest in her? What if, for all of your best intentions, you are met with someone who balks at the idea of you? Then you sit through another one. And then another meeting. And then another. And then several other meetings... Then you turn those awkward meetings into anecdotes. Or just vent into your diary. And if that diary is read by any person except my brother, then that's fine. Just as long as they don't out me on Twitter.

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single woman in a Kuwaiti household, must be in want of a husband. And so the search starts, not with a glass slipper, but with an interrogation. A Kuwaiti woman sits through several meetings with potential candidates. Will any stick on for the next stage of courtship? For those not living in Kuwait: one of the ways a woman meets her prospective husband is for the man's family to call the woman's parents for an initial meeting. He will come over to sit and meet with her. If both sides find the meeting agreeable, they start the engagement talks. But what if you don't click from the first meeting? What if he doesn't even have an interest in her? What if, for all of your best intentions, you are met with someone who balks at the idea of you? Then you sit through another one. And then another meeting. And then another. And then several other meetings... Then you turn those awkward meetings into anecdotes. Or just vent into your diary. And if that diary is read by any person except my brother, then that's fine. Just as long as they don't out me on Twitter.