Here are a few weird circumstances Arab women often find themselves in. I wish I were making some of this stuff up: You know you're an Arab woman when...
You get a marriage proposal from an Arab guy you JUST met. Perhaps he misread the way you passed him the spare bottle of ketchup in the fast food joint.
Arab men talk to you like you're a retarded three year old. They make it worse by smiling when they do it. It's amazing how they find the time to do this in between calls to their mothers...
You may finally be allowed to spend the night at a female friend's house at the age of 23, a few years after your 12 year brother has spent his third vacation in Amsterdam with his friends. (okay, I exaggerated with the ages, but the truth lies in the sentiment)
Arab hospitality is second to none. You can drop by someone's house and they'll offer you tea and snacks before they finally get around to telling you someone is in the next room in labor and they really must get going to the hospital (absolutely true story, I shit you not).
You have the sexiest underwear on under your jeans and long sleeve blouse. And abaya. And no one gets to see them.
Your friends mothers yell at you if you haven't talked to them in a while. They also compete with you when it comes to fashion... And they usually win. Don't worry, you'll eventually take their place.
You've heard someone pronounce "comfortable" as "con-fort-ibbel" or say it that way yourself.
You've forgotten how many cousins you've got.
You rarely keep your real hair color as is.
Your perfume is nothing compared to that of your male counterparts.
Your "nickname" given to you by older Arab women is often much longer than your real name.
Look at the amount of luggage you travel with. Tell me that doesn't look like you're running away for good.
You say"no" by tutting and jerking your head upwards.
You have heard, or said the words, "open the light".
In a bizarre Freudian twist, your mother calls you "mommy". Didn't happen in my case, but to enough of my friends I noticed a pattern.