“Men are just desserts,” Sana smilingly states. “So what is the main course then?” I ask.

“Well, life is; a happy, independent one. Remember Rafia, you do not need a man, you only want one.

“And, this difference between need and want sums up your emotional desires,” Sana continues.

“You are right, perhaps. But, what if I ‘want’ someone and he says no; I would be really hurt,” I blurt out.

“Do not be intimidated by this likelihood, it may shut out your world to new possibilities. Hurt makes you grow. Be open to the possibilities around you and let the surprises welcome you in their own remarkable ways,” Sana finishes and gets up.

Her words continued to echo, as I internalised their value.

Also read: The heart’s filthy lesson

I led an independent and successful, yet emotionally private life. When girls my age were dating and getting married, I was concerned about my qualification and laurels. And when they were in the family way, I was stepping up the corporate ladder.

Getting committed was never on my agenda, now never appeared to be the right time.

Essentially, I always had better things to do. Not to say that I didn’t experience an emotional see-saw of varying kinds, every now and again; but mostly, I stood my ground and did not let such occurrences dampen my spirits.

Things moved forward, as I matured under a range of evolving experiences. Until, the above conversation gave me pause. It caused me to look deeper into myself, not with judgment or fear but with an actual yearning to know myself better.

Always labeled ‘the girl with the brains’ in friends and family circles; words like mature and balanced became synonymous with my bearing.

This balance was also very much a part of my emotional life: my mantra was to take my time.

I took the time to understand and establish relationships, rarely ever losing my ground.

However, somewhere along the way, I feel that this carefully measured approach also affected my ability to take risks – especially, the risk of falling in love.

Now, when I stand at a junction between my passing formative years and an eventual adulthood, I find myself wondering: Is it too late?

I shudder at the thought of getting hurt; taking a risk just to be severely disappointed at the end.

Also read: Thorny roses on Valentine’s Day

The changing, albeit slowly, societal norms in Pakistan have opened many doors for women. At the same time, this empowerment has brought along difficult questions.

Questions about choosing the ‘best’ and the ‘right’ in everything from a university to a career to a life-partner, as opposed to ‘just settling’.

Beyond romance and roses, girls like me, seek encouraging options, minus the pain, hurt and disappointed. They want a partner of their choice but asking for it seems like too intimidating a freedom. And they are not really bothered if things do not work the way they imagined – after all, they can fall back on their own secure living.

For many of these girls, time has transformed this ideal of a ‘prince charming’ into a mere dessert without which this life can actually go on, and with meaning.

Nevertheless, this dessert-search turns into an audacious adventure whenever the main course starts falling short of expectations. Beginning with the fanciest, it more than often climaxes at the simplest – the best type one can ever come across, in my opinion.

And, in this choice between Belgian chocolate and Kulfi, a responsive companionship is all that they really want. They also firmly believe that the best things in life come to those who wait.

My conversation with Sana did not end on that note.

“Imagine, he takes you out to dinner and is overjoyed to find your favourite dish on the menu,” Sana says.

“You will be on cloud nine; simply because he remembered what you like.” I wore a big smile in response.

“If this happens, enjoy it. After all, he will be the dessert that complemented your main course.”

And, I couldn’t agree more…