It’s true… I dated my father– but not in the way you think (don’t be gross). NOT literally.
We’ve all heard this before:
Girls always end up with someone like their father and boys end up with someone like their mother.
And if they’re Persian boys– it only makes sense. They’re going to be attracted to someone who will nurture and care for their doodooltala-ness (let’s be real).
My dad never really cared for the guys I brought home. He was always nice to them (aka never had any guns attached to his waist), but he never connected with on a personal level — he was never excited to hang out with them.
Then again, I haven’t given him much material to work with. My dating history is as bad as the sour milk still in the fridge. I’ve dated anyTHING from a cheating loser to a dependent bacheh (child) who couldn’t go down the escalator without holding my hand (THERE’S ONLY ROOM FOR ONE PERSON PER STEP).
I’ve brought home Persians, white boys, Arabs, Sias, etc. (discrimination is an ugly color)– and with each date, my dad just held his tongue, swallowed his pride, and asked them what their future business plans are/where they plan to attend graduate school.
Because obviously, you can’t be successful if you don’t have some type of business plan that you’re planning to execute by the time you hit 21 OR if you don’t have a graduate degree (accd. to Baba joon).
*I have neither a business plan nor a graduate degree… but he doesn’t mention that.
And no matter how much I say that I don’t care what my parents think, I don’t care if they approve of the life I choose for myself because I’m #sucharebel… at the end of the day, I want my dad to approve of the guy that I’m with (ultimately).
Daddy doesn’t have to approve of my douchebag obsession, but he has to be able to connect with the guy I might see a potential future with.
My pedar’s disregard for my dates first started in college when I brought home a guy who DIDN’T attend college, worked as a bartender, and had recently moved from southern Texas. He didn’t believe in evolution and couldn’t identify Iran on a map, but he was soooooo cute and I was 18. #enoughsaid
After that it was a series of random guys I found from God knows where — who my dad attempted to have a conversation with and gave up. Of course, I was too naive and anti-approval to ever care. Until one day…
I brought home a Persian guy who had attended my high school. It was after college and we had just reconnected– we started dating almost instantly and soon, I brought home to meet the family.
He spoke perfect Farsi to my dad (though with a slight accent… and shaky voice out of nervousness), and he started talking to my dad about his Master’s program in engineering, etc. Did I mention that my dad is a professor for the graduate program in engineering at my former boyfriend’s university?
They instantly hit it off. My dad LOVED him for his engineer future and the way he treated me like a princess.
The icing on the cake? Graduate degree: in process. Business plan: Boyfriend already had the next four years of his life planned out… with his PhD as one of his priorities.
During family dinners, my dad and boyfriend would be engulfed in conversations about vectors and other engineering sh*t that I had no idea what the meaning was.
My dad finally had a little partner in crime to discuss all his engineering obsessions with. I sat at the table just to look pretty… and to stuff my face with fessenjoon.
At the end of their first meeting, my dad pulled me aside and said, “Farrah, I am so proud of you.”
Umm for what? Dating? Or choosing someone like you?
It became freakily clear to me how similar they were– and while I love my dad, I’m not so sure about dating his clone.
It didn’t work out between me and my dad’s mini me — but not for the reasons you might think. I moved to the East Coast and was suddenly lost to the fast world of competition, stress and chain smoking. We were just never meant to be.
And while my ex had a little trouble letting go, my father was just devastated that it didn’t work out.
Since then, NONE of the guys I’ve brought home have ever been comparable to Baba joon #2. My dad makes a slight effort, but hasn’t been as encouraging as he was with my former engineer.
It’s just never been the same for Daddy joon.
Even now, Daddy never asks about my dating life or asks whether I’ve met anyone special because (I THINK) in his eyes, no one will be as special/goodforme/perfect than that engineer rockstar.
The last time I saw my dad in person, he said to me, “Farrah, I have put some money aside for your marriage, but eet ees okay if you don’t get married- you don’t have to pressure yourself… You can use it for someting else.”
You know you’re screwed the day your Persian daddy “accepts” the fact that you might not get married.
CORRECTION PLEASE: married to an engineer. As far as I’m concerned, everyone else is fair game.
TWEET AT ME: @FARRAH_JOON