My Unjustified Desires

10 – 26/06/26

A house, a spouse, a car, and a career.

Growing up in Abu Dhabi, I believed those were the birthrights of every Emirati born in the 1990s.

I’m now in my thirties.

I don’t have my own house, spouse, car, or career.

What I really want is a house without a spouse and a car without a career.

That, however, seems to be against the rules.

My desires are unjustified.

I can have a house once I secure a spouse.

The house is meant to shelter a family, not simply my comfort or sense of safety.

I can have a car once I secure a career.

I may drive to work, but not on an unplanned road trip by myself.

My desires have been the greatest source of conflict between my parents and me, and later between my employers and me.

What I wanted was never considered acceptable until I had earned it through them.

And if whatever privilege I had did not come through them, I believed I would be punished for it.

That feels less like a relationship and more like a mechanism of compliance.

Where are you going if not to work and earn money?

Or to the mall or salon to spend it?

A whole house with a swimming pool just for yourself?

What a waste.

Not to mention, it’s too dangerous.

For my own safety, I supposedly need my parents or my husband or at least my maid to protect me.

Leaving the house is barely acceptable, though tolerated, if the destination is school, work, or a hospital.

Safety and love often become the language through which superiority and control are exercised.

When the rules are invoked, I am no longer Mariam.

I become, “No daughter of ours does that.”

At work, I am no longer Mariam either.

“Our employees are not entitled to that privilege unless they reach this milestone or receive approval from a superior.”

Human beings disappear beneath titles and roles.

Only human-to-human relationships create trust, respect, and honest communication.

And when those exist, compliance becomes surprisingly easy.

Fear of punishment is often intertwined with the fear of abandonment.

Sometimes they are the same thing.

The unspoken threat is simple:

“We will disown you.”

Or,

“We will fire you.”

That possibility is woven into almost every social system.

People who fear punishment, myself included, often struggle to admit mistakes.

They also fear the consequences of their own decisions because they doubt they can bear them alone.

But if you can say, “I made a mistake,” or, “I’m willing to accept the consequences of this decision,” then you’re probably standing on solid ground.

When I feel persistent guilt or shame, I take it as a cue that I may be experiencing manipulation.

What’s strange about all of this is that the superior is rarely a terrifying villain.

More often, it’s an aging woman.

Or a newly written corporate policy.

Likewise, control isn’t always exercised through enormous sums of money.

Sometimes it’s nothing more than a sincerely told lie.

Soon I’ll have my own house, entirely for myself to enjoy in peace.

I’ll have my own car and drive to places I haven’t yet discovered.

I’ll trust myself and trust that I can handle what comes.

I won’t justify my desires.

Nor will I fear punishment simply for having them.