Dear Parents
This is what I have been silent about for the last year. This is what he did to me that I cannot speak about. It’s not a big deal anymore, I’ve bounced back. Don’t worry. I’ll find someone more suitable – all the issues I had with him have only made me learn that things like upbringing, background, schooling – they all matter. I had thought that because he lived in an awful tiny little house in an embarrassing part of town wouldn’t matter – that his lack of money, money mindedness, his lack of intellect, lack of ambition would be off set by his sweetness and caring. The caring dried up the day we got married – literally the same day. Everything else followed, and I tried to not tell you, because I like handling things on my own, and the last thing i wanted was to distress you. I learnt one thing – that no matter how much I hated Z, I loved you guys. Why should he sully your happiness of a child “well” settled?
Z had no such compunctions. He vomited out all his distresses like the spoilt little child he was to his mummy dearest. He ran to her at every opportunity – she once advised me not to use contraceptives (!). I can only assume he admitted that we used them, and told her (and blamed me as the perpetuator). Freak.
Anyway. This is what you do not understand. This is what I have been subjected to in the last year. This is what I have been silent about.
This is what you know:
His sister is psychotic – she sits at home all day, no friends, no job, no education beyond A levels, and tries to copy me in every way. I bought those sofa’s for the living room? She had them next month. Those Sunday bazaar cutlery and glasses? Next week she trotted off and bough the same ones in a different color (very single white female). Same for my beige capri’s, makeup (if she could afford it), and when she couldn’t buy my laptop she stole it. And in this glorious enthrall, she cooked up every single inventive way she could to torture me. You know how oblivious I am – i managed to ignore it for a year, till it became too much. She stopped me from using my own groceries. She stopped me from using the kitched fridge. She screwed with me, and I had had it. I didn’t like Z, and I sure as hell didn’t have to be treated like dirt from this pathetic insignificant bitch. and even then i tried to tell her to back off. and then i didn’t. i started defending myself from that pathetic family who were enthralled with me, yet hated me from reminding them of the losers they were.
His parents have no opinion of their own – they helplessly yield like soft moulded putty into their children’s hands. They have unfortunately raised children with no morals, no ambitions, sloth like pudgy shapeless beings that perpetuate all the injustices I could never believe existed in society. They will never amount to anything, staying in the hole they were born in.
This is what you don’t know:
The week after you left, he went out every night for weeks. Alone. He didn’t want me there, and said I was horribly clingy when I asked where he was. I was expecting him to be so excited about our new life together. Why did he want to leave me? I don’t know. I don’t know where he went or what he did.
He went one evening, and I told him I would lock the door if he did it again. He did, and I did. And then he beat me for the first time that night. One month into our wonderfully love marriage. I had to go for one of the many shaadi dinners the next day. I couldn’t walk, I couldn’t sit, I couldn’t stand. Everything hurt for weeks. I didn’t tell anyone. Anyone. Not even myself
The next time he did it, it was a minor incident, but I told his mother. His mother who said I was like her own, who said I should treat her like a mother. I told her, and she said her son would never do wrong and that I shouldn’t have thrown a book at him because if I did that again, being slapped and thrown to the ground was what I should effect.
I realized how alone I was then.
The third time he did it, I packed my bags and told you. You sent me back, and broke my heart. More than that insignificant reflection of a human being did.
I’m here now. Thank you for for swooping in when you did. The cavalry charge. For better or for worst.
I did what I had to do to get here.
I’ll be fine.
You raised me well.
. you’ll probably get married within this year to someone older and richer and cooler – from the right school and the right ivy league and the right set of friends and will take you to all the places I couldn’t. I want you to know that I wanted to. I wanted you and I believed everything could be perfect despite it all. I’m so sorry its not.