I’m a country girl, unfortunately.
I am 27 years old.
I’ve been getting beaten up and humiliated since I was 3 years old.
I remember every blow, and the pain.
I still have scars on my body,
That serve as a constant reminder.

I’m happy I made Hassan furious in court.
He looked furious, ready to explode.
I was scared in court.
When the judge asked me why I wanted a divorce,
I said that I felt we were incompatible.
Hassan looks older than he is.
The trial was postponed,
But I’m happy that I made him furious today.
I was scared,
But I tried to ignore my fear.

At the beginning, my husband treated me like a friend and wife.
He was like he was a friend, a brother, a husband, and a son to me. He was good to me.
Then, he changed.
He treated me like I was a man and only occasionally like a woman.
I thought he was cheating on me.
domestic violence, parents, work, marriage, divorce, romantic relationships

My father used to yell at me all the time.
For things like putting too much food on his plate,
Or him not liking the tea,
Or if the tea was cold.
He would even yell at me if I left the window open when it was cold outside.
I was supposed to figure out that he was cold on my own.
parents, domestic violence, gender violence

I was on top of him. I’d just come. He wasn’t inside me.
I was reaching for the condoms when he forced himself inside me, holding me down by the hips. I closed my eyes and waited for him to finish.
Something was wrong.
domestic violence, gender violence, sexual violence, marital rape, marriage, divorce

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 was in middle school then.
My little sister, who was three years younger than me, was also in middle school.
I was in 9th grade and she was in 7th grade.
My mother is ignorant and uneducated.
She harms others and herself.
She was never loved by her parents or siblings.
Girls to her were mere servants to their brothers, their mothers and their fathers.

He insisted on taking me to live with him and leave my mother.
“No.”
“This is the last time I’m going to say this,” he said,
“Are you coming with me?”
“No.”
He slapped me once, then twice, then three times,
Until I lost count.

“You’re a failure.”
My father has always called me a “failure” ever since I was little.
I don’t remember when he started calling me that.
But he still does.

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.