Becky (main story path and your author)

Ramya Rebecca Venkatesan. Young, successful, career-minded woman. Single, much to her parents' chagrin. That's me.

Prospective husband #3: Naresh. Another disaster. At least this one started off better, because I could tell he was interested. The first two prospects my parents arranged were during my senior year in college. I was borderline obese, and I could tell the men were not attracted at all. For my part, I was not ready to get married and not even interested in sex yet. Almost immediately after the meetings, their parents relayed to mine that there would be no marriage. Even though I absolutely did not want to get married yet or even date either of those men, the crushing rejection was the wake-up call I needed.

This is how it started:

Now I was 23, in a successful career, and halfway through my weight loss journey. “Obese” now was “overweight”, or perhaps depending on the guy's taste, a generous “curvy.” At least my large chest protruded out further than my belly now when viewed from the side! I had managed to postpone marriage for over a year since graduation, but the parental pressure was overwhelming. The current offering, Naresh, was also only about an inch shorter than me and the tallest of the three prospects. I was tall at 6'1”, 186 centimeters for those of you on the metric system.

Naresh had manners and decent English, but we elected to speak our native Hindi. He was rich, which was enough to dampen the panties of most traditional Indian potential brides. Not me. I was half American with a white mother. With my Indian father, they instilled in me values such as I should have my own career and measure a man by his heart and his accomplishments, not by what his parents give him.

We conversed in relative privacy in my parents' living room. Naresh blew it when he brought up sex. He asked if I was still a virgin. I should have said it wasn't his business yet. But instead I answered yes, proudly puffing my chest out for remaining “pure” as an unmarried Indian lady should be. He laughed at me! Then he leaned in for a kiss. I allowed it, my first kiss since a peck on the lips once at a party in college. I was scared to say no to something so harmless. Next thing I knew, his tongue was in my mouth and he was rubbing my inner thigh. When I pulled back, he asked me to meet him the next day at a hotel to have sex. He had a sleazy grin on his face as he tried to convince me the wise thing to do was have sex now to check out compatibility. When he tried to put a hand down my pants, I slapped him and left, seeking the solace of my modest apartment about an hour away.

Needless to say, after the first two guys rejected me, now it was my turn to punt the third.

I poured a glass of wine and contemplated my life after the useless date. I had so much going for me, so why did I feel bad? I was a vice president now at a small firm and being groomed for the Chief Information Officer position, which was unheard of for someone so young. I worked in Information Technology, fitting within the Indian stereotype. The key was my work ethic in college. I studied my ass off and worked part time for the university. By my senior year I ran the entire IT department and saved them from many disasters with their network. I just got paid like an intern, with someone older taking the credit. But that experience got me a great job, and my management skills got me promoted twice in a year.

Socially, I was a different story. Especially with men. Awkward. Nerdy. Virgin. Being overweight in high school and college helped preserve my chastity, along with good parental guidance coming from my father. But it was easy when men weren't chasing me. Now I was almost semi-attractive. I got hit on at work occasionally. I started to get really interested in men finally, and I began to explore online dating.

I was so frustrated. I'd seen two of my best Indian friends already have success. One was a year older than me and married, the other recently engaged. I was jealous of their success. They were skinny and pretty as Indian women should be. They weren't half-bred, tall, and fat like me. Who would want to marry this? My career success and the fact that I was saving myself didn't seem to matter at all. Deep down I knew why. Men aren't attracted to me.

Naresh's words cut me deeper than they should have. I knew I was giving him too much credit. But if he didn't expect me to marry as a virgin, then why was I holding back? Not that the men were lining up to get down my pants anyway. I was angry about sex and suddenly feeling impulsive to try it, both as an act of rebellion and because apparently everything I read was wrong and I had to actually be sexually experienced to get a good husband.

But I certainly wasn't going to give the honors to the sleazy Naresh. I had better options. I went online to check my profile on two dating sites I was working. Of course I'd never actually gone on a date with someone I met online. But it was fun to look and occasionally communicate with the opposite sex. I had a profile more out of curiosity. I didn't even upload pictures, because I was worried prospective husbands would see me on those sites and think less of me.

While I was feeling sorry for myself and figured nobody would marry me, I was pretty sure I could at least get laid. I decided to reach out to a guy I'd connected with on a site that matches you based on personality test results. We'd been emailing a lot and even talked on the phone once for over an hour. I was very impressed with his patience and ability to write a coherent sentence, which was so rare today. He was witty, fun, and had an adorable accent. This guy admitted he wasn't looking for a relationship, and we had a good laugh over the fact that he was a player, and I was probably going to have to enter an arranged marriage. Neither of us had any business on a website that matched people based on long-term compatibility. When we wrote about sex, I always toed a fine line of seeming more experienced without outright lying.

After two glasses of wine, it was decided: I was going to have sex! I sent him a message, which he would get immediately through the app on his phone. I had butterflies as I typed, hoping to get laid but feeling a little guilty and nervous about it.

I knew this was a bad idea.