Today in my office one older guy who is a driver hit another young guy who is an office boy during a war of words. The younger one was furious. His face was red with shame and anger. Seeing his face, something came back to me; my face filled with shame and anger.
My ex-husband hit me once. I can never forget that embarrassment. I hate myself for forgiving him, going and living with him again after some days. How could I have slept with him after that abuse? How did I even look at him? I remember just yielding to the situation. I wanted to leave him then and there. I tried to call the police, he snatched my phone and threw it away. I packed my bags to leave but his parents and siblings stopped me. His mother said, “Don't worry, it's fine. In marriage it's normal, sometimes your husband hits you, as a woman it's your fate to be hit by your man. Look at me, I have suffered so many blows during my time, I never complained.” Even though I was angry then I couldn't blame her. Patriarchy ruled in those times. I slept in the kitchen that day, and cried myself to sleep. The shame was drowning me. Next day I left leaving a note that I won't be coming back. I went to the office and later stayed at my mom’s house for 3-4 days. My brother and sister are always supportive. I did not tell my mother. She would have said “I told you so”. He never apologized. I felt the societal pressure to go back, It was only one year since marriage, no one would support me for divorcing him for a slap. I went back ashamed of myself knowing that I will be stuck in that hellhole forever. He never apologized even later. He never hit me again but I can never forget. That shameful tears, that embarrassment of being slapped by a man, that helplessness of not being able to do anything about it. I wish I could do something then. Now I am no longer with him for many other reasons, but that day still haunts me, along with some others when I was raped by him.
