Introduction

Hello.

You may call me Wafiya. I once had another name, but that's not important now.

I want to tell my story... No, our story. When I decided to move to Egypt, I knew I'd be online writing about my adventures. It's not often a single American woman gets fed up with her life and decides to move to North Africa for the hell of it. The thing is, I expected to be single for a long time. As one might imagine from the title of this diary, that didn't happen.

I had decided to become single in search of independence and freedom of self expression. Having recently ended a very long term relationship that was comfortable, loving, but fundamentally unsustainable (he wanted children; I didn't), I wanted to spend some time alone exploring the world and making it on my own. I wanted to feel like I accomplished something for myself without the involvement of a man. Choosing a country in a conservative, male dominated region of the world for this particular exercise in independence seemed somewhat counter-intuitive, but I've had an interest in learning Arabic since my teenage years and decided I'd waited too long to do something I've always wanted to do. Rarely one to choose the simplest route to a destination, I shrugged off the challenge, packed my bags, and got on a plane. Goodbye house. Goodbye family. Goodbye friends, goodbye dogs, goodbye ex. Goodbye me. I knew that whatever the results, if I ever chose to return home, it'd be as a different person. Travel changes people. And I've always been liquid, conforming to the shape of whatever environment or relationship held me captive. There are some things that are fundamentally me and will never change, but the way I send ripples through my world changes based on my surroundings.

Being a naturally pliant person, my first desire was to make my own way in the world without sacrificing myself for once. I didn't want to be a complaisant woman this time. The events which have unfolded since my arrival in Egypt have led me to question if choosing a path for oneself truly requires independence. Perhaps the choice to stop resisting my path is my own way of becoming my true self. I still struggle to reconcile these ideas intellectually, to accept that giving in doesn't always mean giving up. My life has changed considerably in ways that will become apparent in future entries. My future is not the one I envisioned, but I am pleasantly surprised. I resisted the idea of this relationship on principle, knowing I was deliriously happy but not knowing why I was trying to stop the inevitable avalanche of emotion but for the sole reason that this wasn't supposed to happen yet. Falling in love is often an inconvenient business, and this time was no exception. I searched for any reason I could to stop it from happening but he was magnetic to me, drawing me closer with no real option for me but to acquiesce.

Watching me struggle with the act of falling helplessly in love but refusing to actively choose him and commit, my lover suggested something I'd never considered before. Maybe my resistance was the product of my Western upbringing and cultural values. Having lived only in America, where people are free to date, explore, experiment and live with whomever they please, my reaction to this plethora of choice has been to analyze every action, every aspect of every relationship and choose each move wisely. But my lover chooses to love with his heart. I had not realized before this point that at every turn I chose to love with my head, and it was forcing me to push away the person I'd always imagined, but had never met... until now. After truly agonizing deliberation, I have decided to follow my heart. No more looking back.

This is our story.