Page 151 - A Woman Is No Man

too, like there were too many people around me, forced connections, that I
needed a little isolation to think on my own, to be my own person. Does
that make sense?”

Deya nodded, hearing herself in Sarah’s words. “And now?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you happy?”
Sarah paused for a moment then said, “I don’t care about being happy.”
Deya’s surprise must have been written across her face because Sarah
continued, “Too often being happy means being passive or playing it safe.
There’s no skill required in happiness, no strength of character, nothing

extraordinary. Its discontent that drives creation the most—passion, desire,
defiance. Revolutions don’t come from a place of happiness. If anything, I
think it’s sadness, or discontent at least, that’s at the root of everything
beautiful.”
Deya listened, captivated. “Are you sad, then?”
“I was sad for a long time,” Sarah said without meeting her eyes. “But

I’m not anymore. I’m grateful to have accomplished something with my
life. I spend my days doing something I love.” She gestured to the books.
“Do you think you would’ve had this life if you’d stayed? If you’d
gotten married?”
Sarah hesitated before replying. “I’m not sure. I think a lot about the
kind of life I would’ve had if I’d stayed. Would I have been able to go to
college? Would I have managed a bookstore in the city? Probably not, at

least not ten years ago . . . But it seems like things have changed.” She
paused to think. “But then again, maybe they haven’t changed that much. I
don’t know. It just depends . . .”
“On what?”
“On the family you’re from. I know many Arab families who firmly
believe in educating their women, and I’ve met some who graduated from

college and have good jobs. But I think in my case, if I’d married a man my
parents chose for me, who thinks the way my parents think, then he
probably wouldn’t have let me go to college or work. He would’ve wanted
me to stay at home and raise children instead.”
“You know, this isn’t making me feel better,” Deya said, thinking of the
pitiful possibilities of her life. “If I’m going to be forced to stay at home
and have children, then why shouldn’t I run away?”

“Because it’s the cowardly thing to do.”