I haven’t left home (soon to be called, my mother’s house) yet. Last time I wrote, I was gearing up to pack my life of 24 years into many, many cardboard boxes and suitcases.  The night before I was supposed to take my butt and my belongings to start my new life with my husband in Atlanta, I tried to reach out to my mother, one last time. My mother and I have never had a particularly great relationship, so it wasn’t easy to talk to her about one of the hardest phases of my life. She’s always been hard on me and her criticisms have always stung harder than she intended.

It turned out to be not so hard after all, because she was just as miserable at the prospect of me picking up and leaving as she was. We both broke down together and had an old-fashioned mother-daughter cryfest. She was still not prepared to accept D. or our marriage, but she knew she had no choice. Her stubborn nature wouldn’t allow her to accept ‘defeat’, but I saw her softening up. She laid down a few terms and conditions, some of which were ridiculous and others just plain impossible.

According to my mother, in order for her to accept this marriage, the following must happen:

- Although, D. and I went to a mosque and had a religious ceremony, my mother wants us to get re-married in a traditional Muslim ceremony in front of friends and family.

- Muslim marriages have a built-in pre-nuptial contract which states that the bride must get a certain amount of ‘dowry’ (by way of property or monetary compensation) from the groom, in order for the couple to be married. This custom was instituted in the early days of the religion, mostly for the wife’s protection, in case her husband leaves her stranded without a dime. My mother wants to increase the amount of the dowry D. has to pay me at the time of our re-marriage.

- She wants us to have an extravagant wedding, which D. is responsible for funding. She refuses to pay a single penny.

- D. must return to college and finish his degree before we can start living together.

D. and I were so happy that my mother finally gave in that we agreed to everything, without thinking what her conditions really meant. Getting re-married? Paying for a grand wedding without my parents’ help? An increase in dowry (which as far as D. and I are concerned, is just a religious formality)? Waiting until D. finishes college to live together?

Oh, boy.

Read the first installment of this secretly married couple's story: