Currently sitting at a luxury hotel lounge in Dubai. It’s fabulous! I love it. I’ve been lounging here the whole night long, reading on my iPad, thinking about my writing, reflecting on life. And the best part? NOBODY FUCKING BOTHERED ME ABOUT ANY OF IT!

Ugh.

Ask me how much I don’t miss South Dakota right now and I will tell you a tale. God, they were just the worst. Ugh. Always talking trash, always up in my biznass, always trying to cause problems over whatever the fuck insanity they have created in their own heads next. Is it a surprise to me where their former elected official ended up? Of course not. It’s so on brand, it’s funny. I told you I was right about them all along. They just tried to gaslight me because they can’t see how ignorant, racist, and short-sighted they all are. Idiots. Morons.

Ugh.

Disgusting!

Whatever story I am about to tell you right now, please just know my happy ending already happened. I finally escaped that miserable fucking shithole forever and I’m never going back. There’s a whole world to explore. I refuse to waste my time on these pathetic excuses for human garbage anymore.

So here’s the story…

He did meet me at the airport, but the vibe was off. We lasted 48 hours before I had to give him the “Love is a choice. I choose you. I just left everything I’ve ever known behind for you. Are you ready to make that same level of commitment to me? If not, you can just leave.” speech.

He wasn’t ready, so he left.

The end.

The aftermath is a better story, tbh. Omg. I know they’re listening to me here because IG and Reddit have helpfully provided plenty of links and discussions about the Infamous Indian Marriage Scam, which I should have been aware of but wasn’t because I’d been living out in the fucking sticks for too long.

Th aftermath is funny because the first thing I did was rat him out to the hotel staff, the servers and bartenders, and then the Pakistani tour guide, which honestly did nothing to help Indian-Pakistani relations. As an American, I fully admit I’m part of the problem. I didn’t even think about it. I just played both sides to see which one got better results. So that’s how America ended up supporting Pakistan, so yeah. Learned that lesson the hard way, even though I don’t agree with any of this. Like, they were hiding Osama bin Laden, and I could go down a whole rabbit hole about politics right now, but I won’t because I’m not here to care about that shit. I’m just saying I learned from real life experience how this alliance happened.

Honestly, as a woman, I am fully Team No One. Team No One, Team No One. Why pick a team when women lose either way? If I side with America, I end up a slave. If I side with India, I end up a slave. If I side with Pakistan, I end up a slave. If I side with Iran, I end up a slave. If I side with Hong Kong… well… I guess we’ll just see. Something tells me not to back any of these patriarchal societies and just live my own fucking life free of these men and their insane variations of rules for women.

Anyway, lesson learned on that one. I’m not really worried about it, tbh. I feel like I saw him for the parasite he was and calculated the obvious outcome. Also important to note: he NEVER asked me for money. Ever. In fact, it was the opposite. He tried to use his money to control me, so that’s a thing. It didn’t work, obviously. I just left that cult. I’m not about to join a brand new one just because they’re super friendly to animals, thought I admit I did briefly consider it because it appeared to align more with my morals and beliefs than any other religion I’ve encountered. That was before I learned about the BJP, of course.

Anyway, in the end it really came down to two things: language barrier and age difference. Dude is 29. I am 36. It’s not gonna work. It’s just not. I guess I thought… let’s try younger again since the old men aren’t working for me. Wrong.

In the end I learned… I just want to be alone. At least for right now. I’m about to start a new job in Hong Kong. I need this year to figure out who I am and rediscover myself. I can’t be held down by some whiny manbaby who hates himself so much he tries to wash his own skin off with “lightening cream.” What the fuck even is that? Sorry, but what year is it again? That, to me, is like… seriously old school, regressive shit. Like are you trying to be Michael Jackson? What is even happening right now?

The fact that he changed his name in addition to this doesn’t help the situation. He clearly has low self-esteem and I can’t figure out why. He’s a very beautiful man. I liked him just the way he was, and I liked Indian culture even more. But he clearly just hated himself and everything he was and was latching onto me because of my proximity to whiteness, which is kinda funny because historically-speaking, a lot of my dad’s side wouldn’t even be considered “White.”

So yeah, interracial relationships are complicated, and also white slavery is definitely a thing in this part of the world. I’ve told everyone and anyone at my resort the story and all of them are like, “Oh yeah, they only want to use white girls for sex.” Just as I suspected. And that’s I never had sex with him. That’s how I won.

The end.

So that’s my Bollywood movie, lol. The content is there, but like, how do I turn it into a book, a TV show, and a series of stand-up comedy specials? That’s where the money is! Who cares about me and my feelings when there a thousands of women worldwide who have fallen for this exact same scam?

I can feel the writing coming back to me now. I can already envision him as a character on the Island of Lost Guys. Clearly, this is the inspiration I needed to get back in the saddle and start up my writing again.

Let’s just all take a moment to be grateful for what this is.

Also, now I’ve just spent the last year obsessively consuming Bollywood content so my view on what media should be has changed. I just need it to be all Moulin Rouge, all the time, for better or worse. Musical numbers for everything, everyone in glam, beautiful shots of the entire village of women walking into the fire to sacrifice themselves for the greater good, while singing a fabulous musical number.

And in the end, no one got raped, and the evil warlord was defeated because the people took their power back. This is a real happy ending in a real movie I watched. It’s called Padmaavat. Very controversial. But Ranvir Singh in full Game of Thrones-style warlord getup? Kinda hot, not gonna lie. It is what it is. That being said, the scene where the King and Queen pray together over the bed before they die was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen on TV that wasn’t an explicit sex scene. It gave all the feels without subjecting us to the completely unnecessary pornographic aspect that western media has thrust upon us.

Um yeah, so basically I just walked through a fire and came out on the other side totally fine. It’s fine. I did it. I’m good. I defeated the warlord coming to rape me and destroy my village and that’s all that really matters.

Anyway, what was I talking about?

Who even fucking knows anymore.

Anyway, the important thing is that I came here with money and options. Okay, so my trip to India isn’t going to work out. That’s fine. I can easily just stay on this reclaimed island and forget the world for a week, which is pretty much exactly what I want at this point. I will have zero free time when I get to Hong Kong, so I better take my vacation now.

So that’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna stay in Dubai and do yoga on the beach and not talk to anyone for a whole week and just relax in the sun and pretend the world doesn’t exist.

I think I actually deserve that for once in my life. Seriously, all I want is a relaxing beach vacation where I can just recharge my soul battery in the sun without anyone asking me for anything or harassing me or demanding I take care of them or needing a fucking mommy.

Eid Mubarak, y’all.

Wasn’t really sure what this holiday was, but then I looked it up and was like… oh… so white was the wrong choice to wear to the ritualistic animal slaughter. Okay. Well, I guess it depends on who you ask. Either way, still a metaphor for death, rebirth, and sacrifice, so that’s cool. I’m down with that.

At this point I just see Christianity, Judaism, and Islam as three branches of the same tree, so honestly, like, none of these holidays really make sense to me except for Passover. Why? Because it’s a story of revolution and freedom from slavery. That makes sense to me. Ritualistically slaughtering a goat because some dude had a schizophrenic episode where he believed he needed to murder his child does not, but like what are you gonna do, right? Just like Easter is a totally fucked concept that makes zero sense to anyone. And by the way, why do we sit around a fir tree opening presents while a jolly old fat guy in a red suit demands cookies and milk? Talk about shit that doesn’t make any fucking sense at all. Ugh.

Team No One, btw. This is how the BJP got my number. Pretty sure this guy gets a bonus if he converts a white western woman who comes to India to study yoga into a full-blown Hindu. More power to him, I guess. I’m sure he’ll find the subservient white slave he can lock up in his basement and force to cook him a full vegetarian Indian dinner whenever he wants.

And, uh yeah, that’s the story of a time I fell for the classic Indian Proposal Scam because I was sad, lonely, desperate, and vulnerable and somehow ended up dating a BJP Goon.

lol, for real.

I’m like Empress Theodora over here. I just keep moving up in the world with every scumbag I touch. The more things change, the more they stay the same…

Honestly, did I really get scammed, or was I already aware of all of this deep down and just took the ride because I needed the content for my stories? I think it might be the latter. And honestly, it’s probably not even that fair to him because he can’t understand/read/write/speak English well. But also, that makes us even. You try to use me and take advantage of me just so you can get your dick wet for one whole minute? Get ready to be turned into a character in my never-ending novel I call life.

It is what it is.

And no, I did not have sex with him because I refused to give my power away to someone who seemed so desperate to take it. I win, haha. Screw men. I win.

What do I feel now that it’s all over? Honestly, relief. I feel relief. I didn’t want this. I know I didn’t want this, but I went along with it because destiny and patriarchy and for all my studies in feminist philosophy, I still can’t escape some of that deep-set brainwashing that every woman in the world must endure.

It is what it is.

Anyway, no one cares about the guy. He’s just more content for the TV show I will have on Netflix someday. What matters now is that I need to change my flight, again, and extend my stay at this fabulous resort, and relax on a beach for a week where no one can find me or bother me with their stupid fucking bullshit. That’s all I want right now. For real.

Meanwhile, Dubai. Wow! What a place! What can I really say other than the fact that it makes the U.S. look like a total shithole in comparison? Yeah, I know what the stereotypes are, but meh. I’ve been here five whole days and no one has offered me money to take a dump on my chest, so reddit is obviously full of shit. As per usual. Who knew?

Honestly, it reminds me of NOVA in so many ways. Like it just feels so normal for me to be surrounded by people from everywhere, speaking a thousand languages I can’t understand, all coming together to watch the fireworks show. That’s the America I believed in, and I just don’t know if that exists anymore. I don’t know if it ever did, to be honest.

At least I found a piece of that concept here. I can appreciate this much about the city. This is a place where people can gather from all around the world and find true peace. Sure, that peace may come in the form of beach clubs, bottomless brunches, and massive indoor malls that are guaranteed to give you the shop-til-you-drop exercise you crave, but what’s wrong with that? Maybe that’s the lifestyle I want. Maybe that’s what I miss most about home all the time. Maybe all I want is to go back to the days when I was a teenager fresh out the mental hospital and found relief relaxing in the sun by the pool, eating out at every fabulous restaurant in town, and walking back and forth through Tysons Corner until I couldn’t feel my legs anymore.

And who are you to judge me for wanting that? At least I’m honest and upfront, even if shopping feels super icky now that I’ve watched Seaspiracy on Magic Mushrooms.

Anyway, yeah, super happy to be here in Dubai for Eid, even if the concept is strange to me. When I look around, I see families gathering together for a meal, children running around and playing without screens, laughter, and joy. I think there’s something to that. I mean, my family definitely isn’t like that, at least not anymore. They’re all too brainwashed by the cult of white supremacy. In so many ways, I truly feel like I don’t have a family anymore. So when I see a family gathered, it brings me joy. I’m sure they have insane levels of Real Housewives drama. Like, who doesn’t? But still. I appreciate the family-oriented cultures that exist outside of America. I miss my family. I really do. Thanksgiving was my favourite holiday for so many years because we were all together. Now it doesn’t happen anymore. And honestly, it probably won’t happen ever again.

So I guess that was my motivation for wanting to marry an Indian guy. I watched all the Bollywood films and just thought… family. I can finally have a real family because this man comes from a culture that values family.

But in the end, it was just a fantasy. And I think maybe I serve a higher purpose than that. Love is not confined to the limited ideas of the. White western world and its toxic idea of “soulmates.” Love comes in many forms.

Love is the yoga teacher working at the beach resort full of randoms who come and go while complaining about the sand. Love is the guy carrying around a purebred Falcon on the beach, asking for pictures because his family has raised them for thousands of years and this the only way he knows how. Love is the freelance tour guide who made the extra effort to make the safari tour special for the woman who just got dumped. Love is all around us, everywhere, all the time. I believe in love. I truly do.

Also can I just say that I wildly prefer the Middle Eastern concept of “pest control.” It’s all falcons and cats. No rats. No rats anywhere. Why? Because they understand the way of nature. You got cats? You got falcons? Guess what? No rats. That means no plagues. Smart and obvious AF. I don’t particularly agree with many tenants of Islam, but there are so many cultural aspects here that I love and appreciate just the same. The concept of raising apex predators to keep the pests out instead of coating everything in poison really sticks out in particular.

Also, no seagulls. Lots of pigeons, but the falcons eat them. Some crows. I like crows. I like animals in general. I get along better with animals than people. This is a fact.

I think I will stay here another week until I have to go to Hong Kong. My yoga Shala in India said they would give me a place to stay, but the problem is that my current visa is sponsored by my now-ex, who works for the government and could make it a whole mess, and I am honestly just not trying to get deported to a random prison in El Salvador right now. I grew up with MS-13 in my area. No thank you. I’m good, I’m good. So maybe it’s a better idea to just skip India this time altogether, just in case.

Anyway, the reminds me, I discovered the yoga teacher here was in Agonda Beach at a different yoga shala at the exact same time as me last year. Crazy how small the world is. I love it. So here for it. I am going to check out his yoga studio this week for sure.

Okay, it’s decided, I am staying in Dubai for another week and using my time to bum out on the beach. If anyone asks if I’m American, my answer is that I left and I’m not going back because I believe in freedom, and whatever the fuck that crazy reality TV shit is is not freedom,

Off now. It’s 1am, I gotta get up tomorrow and change all my travel plans. Good thing this reservation was in my name and I made a fuckton of backup plans just in case it was a scam, which it was. So I’m okay. I’m okay. It’s just another character on the Island of Lost Guys. I can use it in my stand-up comedy routine.

If there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that men are only good for one thing: content. So here we are with exact what I wanted all along… more content to inspire me after years of suffering through writer’s block.

Everything is going to be okay. You know how I know? Because this particular story ends with me moving to Hong Kong, starting a new career, and living my best life.

And she lived happily ever after. The End.