Why are you late, missy?
What time is it?
You come home every day at 2 or 3 in the morning.

I’m 32 years old.
I’m divorced, and I don’t have any children.
When I turned 32, everyone pressured me into getting married.
I honestly wasn’t really looking forward to it.

Why tie yourself down with a kid when you’re divorced?
No one will want to marry you.
It’s better that her father and grandmother raise her.
She’d belong to them and you could finally live your life freely.

I got married after 6 years of being in love.
During that time,
I found out he was cheating on me with the live-in maid,
Who took care of his mother.
I confronted him at first,
but he denied it.

“How can you cross your legs like that?
Do you not have dick?”

“When I told my friends that you refused to hold my hand they asked me why I was still with you.”
“Then leave!” I exclaimed.

I hate feeling like a hypocrite: wearing one thing in front of friends, dressing differently in front of family.
I wish I could share pictures of me enjoying myself at the beach, but I can’t, my father would have a heart attack at the sight of me wearing a two-piece.

Oh sweetheart, God bless you!
You’re all grown up and a bride now!
Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this day?
Since the moment I had you;
The second you were born and I found out that I had a girl.

What’s he thinking of?
Does she have the right to say no?
Is it my right to pass judgement on her?
Is it her fault that she’s giving in to society’s standards?

My life now takes place entirely between four walls.
I don’t go out. I don’t go anywhere.
I don’t know what people want from me.
I just want peace. I want someone to tell me words of comfort.
I want someone to ask me what’s hurting me. 
prison, marriage, divorce, social stigma, social pressure