My situation?

I pushed the laptop aside to let her know that she had my full attention.

“I think it’s good that you’re putting yourself out there and have been open to speed dating events and dating online. I know this is hard.” She gave me a sympathetic smile. “Believe me, I know. But sometimes I feel like you might be making things harder for yourself.”

I looked at her, confused.

“I think you need to consider investing more time in people. First dates are rarely great. You know this better than anyone. But it takes more than one meeting to really get to know a person.” As she continued, my mind reeled through all the one-date disasters I had experienced over the past six weeks. Was she talking about those guys? I had a difficult time believing I might’ve written any of them off too soon.

“There’s no harm in giving someone a second chance, Leila,” she said. Suddenly, the plump aunty from the speed dating event was sitting in the corner sharing chum chums with Seema the matchmaker and my mother—the three of them nodding in unison.

This was my future we were talking about. This was the person I could potentially spend the rest of my life with. While there was no harm in second chances, the right guy wouldn’t need a second chance to prove he was right for me. It would be obvious from the get-go. Of this I was convinced.

“Tania, you were at that event last weekend. Aside from the one normal guy you met, do you honestly think any of those speed dates were worth a second chance?”

“They weren’t all bad—”

“What about Mr. Bollywood?”

“Omar? The guy Hannah set you up with?” She shrugged.

“Mr. BAM BAM BAM?” I emphasized to jog her memory. “You’re telling me that guy wasn’t as obnoxious as a self-checkout machine at the grocery store?”

“Leila.” She sighed. “He liked to sing. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal?!” I stared at her, feeling frustrated. Why was she trying to minimize this? “You know what, forget Omar. What about Imran, Sajid, Mahmoud, and all the other ones?!” I cried in defense. “Do you really think I missed an opportunity with any of them?” I waited as she thought for a moment.

“Assuming they were really as bad as you described them . . .” She hesitated.

“Are you saying I exaggerated how awful those dates were?”

“No . . . Leila . . .” She trailed off. “Leila, I get that you’re under a lot of pressure—”

“I’ve got six weeks to find a husband. Not a date for prom, Tania. I’m looking for a husband! Yeah, I’m under a lot of pressure,” I said with a sneer. Why was she acting like the idea of marriage was no big deal? If anyone understood the magnitude of this situation, it should’ve been her.

“I’m just suggesting—for your sake—to perhaps reconsider your approach moving forward.”

What approach did she think would help me be more successful at this? I had agreed to go on blind dates, online dates, speed dates. I had gone to a professional matchmaker and even suffered through an ambush date! After all my efforts, I still had to endure taunts from my parents about “not trying hard enough.” And as if that weren’t bad enough, I had to watch my mother’s face crumple each time she asked me about another failed date. I really didn’t need my friends to start criticizing me too.