It wasn’t because I was picky or because the men I encountered were awful.

Rashad, a sportscaster and a close friend of Michael Jordan’s, is keeping the romance on the down low.

“They haven’t gone out in public,” one source told me.

The midafternoon sunlight pushing through the blinds cast a glare on my phone, making it hard to view the man whose dating profile I’d stumbled on.

This was a profile on Minder, a Muslim dating app that mimics Tinder but is aimed at helping Western Muslims find a spouse.

The guy advertising for halal sex (whatever that entails) was an exception; most of the other profiles seemed pretty chaste.

However, this preoccupation with what was “halal,” meaning is what is permissible in Islam, ran rampant not on the app and in my mind.

It’s been ingrained in me that I will either allow my parents to arrange a marriage for me; or marry someone they disapprove of and be ostracized because of it. My parents don’t look at the whole person; they look at a man’s biodata (a kind of résumé for marital candidates) that lists his education and genealogy, including his relatives’ career choices. Which usually equals dating sites and apps geared toward Muslims.

Once I graduated from college and landed my first real job, my parents were ready for me to get hitched. First I tried Ishqr, a dating site specifically for millennial Muslims. Users see one another listed through a username and questionnaire about their interests.

There was one man who lived in my vicinity, but it sounded like he essentially wanted a Muslim woman to babysit his future children.