Whenever I see my grandma, she grabs my finger and asks me the same question every time,
“When are you going to make me happy?”
“You’re not happy?”
“No.”
“How can I make you happy?”
“By getting married.”
“But what about my own happiness?”
She stood, pretty as a picture,
In the midst of a place that despised beauty.
The eyes of the passengers, once cold and dead, were now filled with anger and jealousy.
Filled with unspoken words I’ve heard before.
I stopped hearing about her a long time ago.
When I found out that she was in a relationship,
With someone who was prepared for marriage,
And that they were intending to get married,
I withdrew in a nice manner and wished her all the best.
I mean I know my luck:
I am always too late.
I got married when I was 24.
And divorced when I was 29.
Now I'm a single mom to a 7-year-old girl.
motherhood, marriage, divorce, work
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.
I got pregnant with twins.
I suffered from postpartum depression for a year and two months after giving birth.
I had constant nervous breakdowns,
And would cry hysterically.
I was under so much pressure from my in-laws..