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the Guru Nanak temple, attended by all our family and friends and blessed by the mahraj. This event is called the misri , and can loosely be translated as an engagement ceremony.
    Our misri took place in the afternoon and was followed that evening by a dinner party at a well-established Indian restaurant. The food and wine flowed, there was music, and we danced for the very first time. In that moment, I was gloriously happy. I finally felt that I was doing the right thing, that I was going to be accepted by one and all. I believed that I was about to live happily ever after.
    Unfortunately, over the months, as it got closer to the wedding date, I started to realize that I’d never be the person my fiancé and his family wanted for a wife and daughter-in-law, because I didn’t fit the traditional mold. How could I not have realized this before making the commitment? The fact that it was an arranged marriage should have alerted me to the fact that it came with certain expectations. Yet since the arrangement had been solidified, breaking it off seemed out of the question, at least as far as the two families were concerned.
    During the time this man and I were engaged, I kept hoping that I could change for him and his family. I struggled to become someone whom they’d be proud to call their wife and daughter-in-law. But regrettably, I only continued to disappoint them and fall short of their expectations. I desperately wanted to please them, but I found it hard to stay focused on my traditional duties because of my restlessness and desire to follow my dreams.
    I felt so disappointed in myself during this time. I kept wondering, Why is this so difficult for me? What’s wrong with me? Others do it so easily. People are getting engaged and married all the time, including all of my own friends! Why am I struggling so much with the idea? I felt powerless and worthless. I felt like such a failure.
    Finally, I submitted to the fact that I might never be the kind of person they were looking for. I was ready to admit defeat because I knew I couldn’t go through with it any longer.
    I was so scared—scared to tell anyone, and of the reaction I was going to get if I did. I was scared of getting married and of breaking it off.
    Deep down, I knew that I’d never meet the expectations of my future husband or my in-laws. Everything I’d been doing up to that point—the way I’d been dressing and behaving—it was all an act. I knew I’d never truly be what they wanted me to be. I’d end up spending my entire life trying to be someone I wasn’t, and I’d always fall short. I’d also never get a chance to realize any of my own dreams, hopes, and wishes.
    During all this, I hadn’t told my parents any of what I’d been feeling or how much I’d been struggling, because once again, I didn’t want them to think of me as a problem. I’d kept everything to myself and put on a brave front, appearing to be happy and always smiling and laughing readily, going through all the motions that a happily engaged young woman would. I hadn’t shared this information with anyone, because I didn’t want to burden others with my emotional pains and fears.
    But I’d reached the point where I couldn’t hold it together anymore, so one evening shortly before the wedding day, I went to my mother and burst into tears.
    “Mum, I’m so sorry!” I cried. “I can’t do it! I just can’t do it!
    To my surprise, my mother hugged me and said, “Don’t cry, darling. Just tell me everything that’s troubling you.”
    “I’m not ready, Mum! I have dreams, and I want to travel the world and do different things, and I just can’t bear the thought that I’m not going to ever have the independence again to do all the things I want to do!”
    I blurted out everything that I was feeling between deep sobs. I let out all my thoughts and fears, all my dreams, hopes, and aspirations.
    My mother held me close and told me that she wasn’t going to force me