As I sit here on this gorgeous day in February, the warm breeze blowing through my curtains, my marriage is over.
I am not permitted to move back home with my daughter, not able to move on with my life, not able to work to support myself, my gender being the only thing that is limiting me.
Our children play, we meet for dinners, we know each other’s husbands, we gossip, and we talk about how much we miss our home countries.
For the longest time, women’s issues in Saudi Arabia were something I was aware of, but never concerned with, until they began to affect me.
Even when my tall, dark, and handsome Saudi walked into the bar where we met, even when this friend of a friend became my lover, then my husband, and the father of my child, I never imagined that his , just outside my heavily curtained window.