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This girl’s heartbreaking story of her marriage is a lesson ke shaadi koi mazaak nahi

We always think that our life is not perfect and when sometimes we face hardships we imagine if any other has ever been through similar situation and we also think ke hum jin mishkilaat se guzar rahe hain waisi mushkilaat kisi ki life mein nahi. But when we hear other people’s heartbreaking stories we then realise ke sabki life mein kuch na kuch mushkilaat hain hi. Kisi ko beemari, kisi ko aulaad ki kami, kisi ke maali halaat durust nahi, kisi ki shaadi na honay ki mushkilaat, kisi ki shaadi ke baad honay wali mushkilaat. Sabki life mein koi na koi mushkilaat hain hi. But this story which I am going to share now is so heartbreaking that you all will realize ke humari mushkilaat is kahani ke agay kuch nahi. So here the story goes:

I am 27, and done with my life! I don’t want to live any more. I am just living for my son. His angelic smiles, his giggles are what have been holding me back from committing suicide. But now I have started to think that my life is affecting my mental health and will in turn affect his life and so may be leaving him with my mother is a better option.
The reason I have come to this stage is MARRIAGE! I was married when I was just 19 and that was the start of my death penalty. Married in another city, to a person who 14 years older to me, who was not interested in getting married because he was gay/Bi sexual but only agreed upon marrying me because I was a relatively easy catch. A girl who never talked to guys, ever! Did not communicate with male cousins on her fathers orders, had female friends only that too in a co-ed school, wore shalwar kameez to bed as well, as jeans and pyjamas were considered inappropriate by my father. Basically a puppet, who never questioned but just obeyed under veil of respecting elders.
Time passed and the usual society asked their typical question: ‘when will you have a kid?’ To which my ex husband always replied that he’s a kid himself, while constantly looking for excuses to end that marriage. Staying out all day and night coming back home at 2 am, leaving me with his humungous family as their maid, never giving me any finances (in fact using up the money my dad gave me) which forced me to start working myself to pay for my basic expenditures, but even then he’d take money from me and I being me, gave it. Truly speaking he was the first man in my life and I was deeply and irrevocably in love with him, that I was blind towards his actual intentions, that being to leave me, which he did a year and a half later by creating a fuss over me asking for his time.
Following my divorce, I stayed in depression for 3 years, went onto anti-depressants, and then finally built the courage to do something with my life and began with my masters education, on one condition, that no one would talk about my marriage till I complete my degree and have a years work experience. MBA was fun while it lasted. A year to be exact. A year of living my life my way, wearing clothes I wanted(while staying in the decent limits), having male friends and going for lunch hangouts with friends etc. But as they say, the Sun doesn’t shine forever, or in my case I think its always an Eclipse.
A cousin got married and his mom – my phopho, got another proposal for me, a 9 years older than me single guy (SHOCKER there as I was a divorcee!!) with a MBA degree, a lot of ‘apparent’ property, the only son to his parents with two married sisters. Sounds perfect! Though he was jobless because he wanted to start his own business (which was what we were told). I rejected him, based on simple facts like I did not want to get married, he wasn’t impressive at all, and my one meeting with him showed his absolute lack of basic manners (table etiquettes or talking to elders) and his utterly dominating and controlling attitude. This rejection brought forward objection on my character and love life, questioning as to whether I am interested in someone else to reject a perfection like him. Even after continued adamance from my side, I fell under pressure from friends and family and agreed to get engaged.
After engagement, I got busy with my studies, when my phopho entered the picture again. This time the issue was that I don’t call or text the guy, which was something usually the guys initiate, being questioned if I wanna break another relationship (as if the first was my fault and I made him gay!). Well I did that too, started communication, which led to him wanting to take me out for stuff like sheesha nights (things I have never done in my life) till 5 am in the morning, and even after my constant requests and appeals, he wouldn’t drop me back on an appropriate time. If my parents called me during these times while they stayed up waiting for me, he’d take my phone and not return it no matter what I said. This raised allegations on my character too and he never cared for that either. He is an arrogant brute, who misbehaves with my parents, and his own parents and never listens to anyone, a good for nothing insensitive, bossy, rude and ill-mannered guy whom no one can bear or deal with. He made me quit my studies, claiming that I should start a business (obviously funded by me father) where as it was because he didn’t want me to have the exact same degree as him (complex and insecurity runs in his veins instead of blood).
Two months before our marriage (after it was postponed 4 times) and after a month of him not talking to me at all, he came to my house and misbehaved with my parents. After this event, my parents wanted me to break the engagement, but by this time I had had enough. Enough of the constant fights at home, the screaming sessions and argumentative texting and verbal battles on mundane things with my then fiancé, the tag of being a divorcee, the depression of the future either way because I believed that breaking this engagement meant I’ll have to get married to someone else and go through the entire process of proposal again. And so, I didn’t break the engagement and went into revenge mode from my family and myself. I might be what some call hot-headed, but at that time my life was breaking the barrier of my limits.
Now that it’s been almost two years into the marriage I have a beautiful child I am in love with. He is my life, my sole reason of existing. But my entire pregnancy was hellish, working for my husband, massaging his feet and back with a 9 month pregnant tummy, being forced to go to USA for my first delivery(on charity, but he didn’t have money for travel or living there either and I couldn’t travel, so it got cancelled), being told right after 14 hours of traumatising labour that he wants another child, fighting on his name, his clothes, his upbringing, his diet, his education etc. But now I am done! I don’t feel like looking at his face! He is this barbarian popper with no job or work, who shows off like he’s Prince Charming, a compulsive liar who lies about everything, from whether he ate or not, to where has he is at a particular time, to what he said at a stated time. He’s got psoriasis on his whole body – extreme form (which he never disclosed and expected us to know already through his full sleeves shirts he was bursting out of) and it has gone down till his bones. I just can’t bear with this anymore. His self-important and dominating behaviour and his lies. He is unbelievably loud and is always shouting at the top of his lungs not caring who his audience is, but if I try matching his volume, I get labeled as ill-mannered, disrespectful and a shameful excuse for a wife.
It seems as if everything is finished between us two. I can’t go to him because of his skin, he smells terrible constantly and he does not care for his hygiene! Talks a lot about Islam on how a mother should feed her child and how ‘parda’ should be done and how talking to ‘na-mehram’ is wrong and how my sister dresses up inappropriately and how a wife is supposed to submit to the husband but his cleanliness in-line with Islam does not exist, matter of fact, no Islamic rule applies to him that restricts how he wants to live his life. His own sisters live abroad and have the most inappropriate attire, but because they live abroad everything is ok but my attire and my sisters for that matter needs to be in accordance with his instructions! He never told me before marriage that I won’t be allowed to be me anymore. I have compromised more than anyone can imagine, more than I thought I had the capacity to. I was once this strong confident girl, fighting battles for others, standing up for my friends and supporting them, dressing how I want, doing what I wished, going where I want. But now I am in a prison, turned into someone I am not and what I never wanted to be. My confidence has shattered, I can’t go where I want, visiting my parents leads to a fight every time, I don’t want to get dressed, I don’t want to meet anyone, I have no friends, I have no social life! I am a corpse with a beating heart!!

This was ab anonymous post shared by someone! We wish her to stay strong and fight for her rights and for her son! Girl you should know that there is light after every tunnel. Nothing is going to stay like this forever. God is just checking your patience and you will definitely see the light! Fight for yourself and for your son!

More power to you and girls like her who are fighting daily and going through similar situations!

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