But listen to me here: let him be in control.
There’s no yes or no.
Here, women don’t talk about these things.
You must only do as he says.

The first time he hit me was the day I found out I was pregnant.
He picked a fight with me when his friend and his wife were having dinner with us,
And I fried the mombar (a kind of sausage dish),
Before the chicken breasts.
He pulled me by my hair,
And dragged me to the stove,
And threatened to set me on fire to get rid of me.

“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.”

I remember I went to visit my aunt the morning after her wedding.
Everyone was in the bedroom talking about it.
Everyone would enter and look at the great wonder.

For the longest time, perhaps until after highschool, I thought all girls were like me.
Then I found out that not all of them were like me.
I didn’t understand what it meant. What’s the difference?
I would always avoid thinking about the incident.
Until a black cloud formed in my mind, engulfing the memory of this incident.

My mother has been getting on my nerves ever since the divorce.
“She’s become so rude ever since her second marriage,” she’d say whenever I joked around or said anything.
social pressure, gender violence, marriage, divorce, parents

That was until the day I swore to leave and never come back,
When he beat me and slapped me across my face,
Because we got into a heated argument.
My body bruised and bled.
gender violence, marriage, divorce, physical violence

They made my sister stay at home when she reached high school.
“You’ll eventually get married and stay at home,
And even if you continue your education,
You won’t work anyway,” they said.
masculinity, marriage, parents