The Cost Of My Will

By Fathima S

These tears? They will be okay. They know they reek of liberation.

I was numb all my life.

I felt nothing when he refused to touch me.

It didn’t hurt much, when he hugged my sister and not me.

Didn’t cry for more than a few minutes when he refused to lie down next to me.

I was 10, when I tried to force him to hug me in his sleep, and he pushed me away.

I figured, it was my fault. But didn’t know what I had done.

People said he was the best father in the world. I believed them.

When he hit me, I called it love. Maybe because, he never let me know what love was.

I protested a bit, when he dictated what clothes I wear.

That day, when he broke the kitchenware because his friend had come home, to see me wearing jeans; I was a slut.

I stayed quiet in my room that day.

“ Kill yourself “ A voice would often tell me when I was alone.

When he raised his hands against me, when I was 22, because he suspected I was up all night, talking to a boy, when I wasn’t?

I blamed myself for snapping and hitting him back in defence.

He is the father, after all. I was only the daughter.

When he began forcing me into a marriage when I wasn’t ready?

I protested a lot. But I never had any voice , did I?

I told him, I did not want an early marriage. But it didn’t matter, what I said. I never mattered.

They had arranged for me to meet a man, without my knowledge.

The idea was to trick me into showing up, and when I do; they would serve me marriage on a platter.

He called me a disgrace when I found out and refused to show up.

I explained, that marriage involved the consent of my heart; but I was just a burden he needed to dispose of. My heart never mattered.

He visited me at work, almost every week, for the next two years. There were only verbal abuses and slut shaming.

The visits were just to make sure, I wasn’t off with some boy.

When I finally showed up home, people knew I had changed.

Noone liked the change though.

Women aren’t supposed to have a mind that moves the status quo, they said.

I had failed everyone because I didn’t want to marry yet.

One morning, I woke up to his voice; I had always been terrified of waking up to that voice since I was a child.

He was screaming because I had brought shame on the family.

I had to agree to a marriage immediately, because I was less than slime.

He broke a table and threatened to kill.

He almost hit my grandfather in anger.

The neighbours came in and blamed me, for causing him so much pain.

I had everything, beauty, education and money; yet faith dictated that I would bring such misfortune to my family by not consenting to a marriage – they said.

I was after all a woman – they said.

The entire 45 minutes of chaos; I firmly stood my ground.

Told everyone, I’ll never consent to a marriage until I felt ready.

The next day, I left home.

I haven’t had a home in almost three years.

I have no family since the last three years.

I am lonely almost every day.

But I have never been at more peace.

I have also never slept better.

So these tears? They will be okay. They know my story.

They know, my freedom came at a price.

By Fathima S