My mother raised six girls.
My eldest sister got married when my father was still alive.
The rest of them got married later after he passed.
social pressure, gender violence, motherhood, work, marriage, family, parents
Every month, she’d pick up and leave, taking our son with her. She’d stay at her parents and prevent me from seeing my son.
When I’d try to make up with her, she’d only relent on the condition that I obey her every word.
Otherwise, she’d go back to her parent’s place, and I’d be deprived of my son again.
divorce, marriage, romantic relationships
I want to be pretty like you.
So people think I’m beautiful when I get married.
But what will happen if I never become pretty like you?
Because she wanted her own place.
She wanted to live.
That’s what a marriage contract was to her: freedom.
I married him twenty years ago.
Not a single year passed by without beatings, humiliation, scandals, and divorce.
He’s stingy and horrible.
He humiliates me in front of everyone.
He’s sick.
He has a terrible personality,
And he’s weak.
He doesn’t even perform his marital obligations—
He can’t do it.
He always finds something to hold over my head.
I’m fed up with him.
I have always been overweight,
And my family comments about my body all the time.
I used to feel like I was public property,
That anyone could look at me and my body and call me,
“Fat” or “chubby”.
I was the butt of jokes at family gatherings,
Which I hated more than anything.
body image, beauty standards, bullying, marriage
Don’t shame us.
Do you understand? Don’t you understand?
The towels.
The sheets.