Hello.
Sara.
Where are you?
Still at work?
What are people going to say?
How could a respectable lady be out this late?
Because I did nothing wrong.
I did what I had to so no one would make fun of my orphan son.
I didn’t even forge a birth certificate. I just entered his name into the birth registry.
His parents died in an accident, and I adopted him through social services.
I mean, everyone’s in jail.
prison, social stigma, motherhood
My looks didn’t concern me when I was entering into journalism.
I told myself that as soon as I speak and show my personality,
I’ll draw everyone’s attention.
“We can’t have a divorced woman in the family.
What will people say?
Once you’re married, that’s it.
You can’t get a divorce.”
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
He took me, and said,
“Don’t worry. People in love do this.”
He gave me a pill, which made me dizzy.
I didn’t feel a thing.
I remember being 12 or so.
I had been invited over to a friend's house for dinner.
The table was laid and dinner was served.
I started eating and that's when things got tense.
My friend's mother asked me not to eat with my left hand.
social stigma, social pressure