Why hit me for peeing myself,
When she could’ve tried to figure out why I was struggling with it?
Why hit me for putting on lipstick as a child,
When she could’ve just told me not to?
Why hit me with belts, cables and shoes,
When she could’ve reasoned with me?
I wanted to move out and live alone.
My father, in order to prevent me from leaving,
Locked the door and chased after me.
My mother came after us.
Mama was paranoid about harassment.
She thought it was everywhere.
She wanted to protect me.
My siblings act like I got a divorce to become their personal servant.
They abuse my help.
Even my brother decided to say something about it: “So, just because she’s had rotten luck and had to come back here, you all decide to make her do everything alone?”
social stigma, parents, parents
When I was a 13-year-old girl,
My parents were a little strict with me.
But they’re my parents,
And I could never let go of them.
When I grew up,
I knew that we couldn’t function as a normal family.
I was subjected to violence by my mother and father.
My siblings too.
My mother started buying me things for my dowry when I was in middle school.
She got so many towels, sheets, underwear, blankets,
Pots and cups.
The first time I was molested,
Or the first time I realized that someone had molested me,
I was a 7 year old child.
He was an old man.
I was on the beach, and he took advantage of me being alone,
While my parents were away,
So he touched me.
gender violence, sexual violence, child molestation, parents, suicide
I liked to sleep next to my parents in bed.
I’d hug my mother for a while,
Then turn over,
And hug my father.
One day, my father didn’t come home.
I stayed up all night waiting for him.
A couple of days later,
I heard he got married.
This is not a story about street harassment.
This is a story about domestic violence.
When I was still an eight year old child,
My paternal grandfather used to touch me in a way that made me uncomfortable.
gender violence, sexual violence, child molestation, parents