Mine was a love marriage. We were in a relationship for seven years before we decided to tie the knot. I went against my family's wishes, but eventually convinced them to be happy for me. I loved him that much. Our salaries were low – we had no car – we had taken a home loan – we had no money for our honeymoon – but still everything felt really perfect.
I was finally with the man I wanted to be with. But times change and so did our love. It was the day he became my husband.
Actually this change was really just overnight. On the day of our marriage he was so cold towards me, I wanted to take a step back and think. I tried to look into his eyes and find love for myself, but it was nowhere to be found. On our first night, I was in his house surrounded by many unknown faces while he was angry over something. So we didn't talk that night.
We had sex though, as if it was a compulsion and then we slept. I was confused, but I waited patiently, thinking we will be ourselves when we get back to our home in Bangalore. I was so naïve.
The truth is we were never the same again. Things did get better when we got back. He was at least romantic sometimes. We talked. Enjoyed movies. Went out with friends. He also praised my efforts at homemaking. He had his anger issues but I was familiar with them. But soon all of that died down. We used to fight a lot about him spending so much money.
He suddenly felt the need to be dominant and I gave in, hoping he'll get better.
When we went to my place for the first time, he threw tantrums. On the other had, we spent a lot on his family even though we were in so much debt. I thought it will be fine, he will be fine. He fought whenever I questioned anything he did, he refused to even understand my point of view. I cried for days together. For weeks he would not talk to me. I would try, but all fell on deaf ears. I still assumed we will be fine some day.
Later, he started talking to me only when he felt like. My weeks of ordeal was draining me out. I couldn't concentrate on my work but I still held on. I loved him dearly and that was all that mattered to me.
My father died within one year of our marriage. I needed him the most at that time. His sudden demise left me with so many family issues. He was there to support me while he was alive. This period was very difficult for me. While I struggled with my father's death, I noticed my husband had no interest in my problems. Every time I shared anything with him, he was either not interested or was being judgmental. So I stopped telling him things.
Slowly, I started hiding things from him. I felt guilty but I couldn't help it. I started saving money without his knowledge. I got a new job and I hid my new salary package. It was not that I was never going to tell him, but he was never open to saving so I saved for emergency purposes.
My sister also opted for love marriage; my father had rejected the guy but when she stood by her decision, we all agreed. What's surprising is that my husband was against it. I don't know why. My sister had rights to marry the man she loved. My husband didn't even attend her engagement. He came just one day before her marriage like a guest. All arrangements were made by my younger brother, who was too young at the time. A day after the wedding he fought with me because I forgot to ask him for breakfast.
He left after fighting with me and never apologised. He never tried to understand what went through our minds when we had to get my sister married without our father.
Then came the final blow. My pregnancy.
I went for my delivery to my native place. My mother took care of me for two months till before my delivery but the moment my son was born, all her hard work went for a toss. My family was inept to take care of me and my baby. His parents' visit did not make things better. Finally we had such a bad fight that he left even before his leave ended. He in fact insulted my mother and left. We kept fighting for months. For the first time in my life I said something about his family and that was the final nail in the coffin.
He finally called me to ask me to get a transfer to Singapore because he was getting an opportunity there. He kept saying he would leave me here if his opportunity materialised, and I felt so shaken. With my first child, I was at his place, weeping all day long, struggling with motherhood all by myself. I thought of ending it all, suicide, all day all night. After I reached Bangalore, the nightmare did not end. He was not talking to me and he pointed out my mistakes day in and day out. I lost all confidence in myself.
I was a bad mother and bad wife according to him. I found solace in the fact that he didn't hit me, though he threatened to every time.
Whenever he was in a good mood he would speak with me nicely, but one mistake and everything was forgotten. If I put my point forward, all hell broke loose. Soon my way of retaliating changed. I hardly answered back earlier, I was miserably trying to defend myself all the time. I soon started losing all arguments to him. He also lost the Singapore opportunity.
I started working again when my son was just four months. I had no family support. With just one 8 hour maid, I started my journey again. Thankfully I had work from home. It was a really hard time. Work was demanding-baby was demanding-husband was demanding and demeaning. There was no appreciation coming my way. There were days when the maid vanished but I had to work with the baby in one hand and typing on the laptop with the other. My son was weak. He fell sick too often. He wouldn't eat enough.
With all insecurities my 'lover' had gifted me in this relationship, I could not think of leaving work and just taking care of my son.
My mother came in between to help me but those times were even more disturbing. My husband did not talk to her and he insulted me even more when she was there. But I kept going. Once, while my mother was there he provoked me so much that I slapped him in front of her.
I know it was wrong on my part but he still never realised how his cold attitude was killing me every day.
My son is now three and it has been seven years since I got married to this man. I had led a very happy life before. Now I have nothing but my son who I love more than my life. In all these years I have just struggled to fight the urge to kill myself. I dream of how one day I'll be able to make my man realise how I feel. He is distant. There are times in between when he is nice to me, but nothing close to caring and understanding.
Till I keep my mouth shut, everything seems fine. He doesn't care, that much is clear.
We do have sex sometimes but that’s it. I write to him many times about how I feel lonely and neglected, but he says it’s all in my head. These discussions only end in an argument. I have no hope for recovery now. I want to leave this country and go somewhere else.
May be this way he will miss me and will come back to me one day. It's frustrating but I'll deal with it till I can.
(Source: Akkarbakkar)
I was finally with the man I wanted to be with. But times change and so did our love. It was the day he became my husband.
Actually this change was really just overnight. On the day of our marriage he was so cold towards me, I wanted to take a step back and think. I tried to look into his eyes and find love for myself, but it was nowhere to be found. On our first night, I was in his house surrounded by many unknown faces while he was angry over something. So we didn't talk that night.
We had sex though, as if it was a compulsion and then we slept. I was confused, but I waited patiently, thinking we will be ourselves when we get back to our home in Bangalore. I was so naïve.
The truth is we were never the same again. Things did get better when we got back. He was at least romantic sometimes. We talked. Enjoyed movies. Went out with friends. He also praised my efforts at homemaking. He had his anger issues but I was familiar with them. But soon all of that died down. We used to fight a lot about him spending so much money.
He suddenly felt the need to be dominant and I gave in, hoping he'll get better.
When we went to my place for the first time, he threw tantrums. On the other had, we spent a lot on his family even though we were in so much debt. I thought it will be fine, he will be fine. He fought whenever I questioned anything he did, he refused to even understand my point of view. I cried for days together. For weeks he would not talk to me. I would try, but all fell on deaf ears. I still assumed we will be fine some day.
Later, he started talking to me only when he felt like. My weeks of ordeal was draining me out. I couldn't concentrate on my work but I still held on. I loved him dearly and that was all that mattered to me.
My father died within one year of our marriage. I needed him the most at that time. His sudden demise left me with so many family issues. He was there to support me while he was alive. This period was very difficult for me. While I struggled with my father's death, I noticed my husband had no interest in my problems. Every time I shared anything with him, he was either not interested or was being judgmental. So I stopped telling him things.
Slowly, I started hiding things from him. I felt guilty but I couldn't help it. I started saving money without his knowledge. I got a new job and I hid my new salary package. It was not that I was never going to tell him, but he was never open to saving so I saved for emergency purposes.
My sister also opted for love marriage; my father had rejected the guy but when she stood by her decision, we all agreed. What's surprising is that my husband was against it. I don't know why. My sister had rights to marry the man she loved. My husband didn't even attend her engagement. He came just one day before her marriage like a guest. All arrangements were made by my younger brother, who was too young at the time. A day after the wedding he fought with me because I forgot to ask him for breakfast.
He left after fighting with me and never apologised. He never tried to understand what went through our minds when we had to get my sister married without our father.
Then came the final blow. My pregnancy.
I went for my delivery to my native place. My mother took care of me for two months till before my delivery but the moment my son was born, all her hard work went for a toss. My family was inept to take care of me and my baby. His parents' visit did not make things better. Finally we had such a bad fight that he left even before his leave ended. He in fact insulted my mother and left. We kept fighting for months. For the first time in my life I said something about his family and that was the final nail in the coffin.
He finally called me to ask me to get a transfer to Singapore because he was getting an opportunity there. He kept saying he would leave me here if his opportunity materialised, and I felt so shaken. With my first child, I was at his place, weeping all day long, struggling with motherhood all by myself. I thought of ending it all, suicide, all day all night. After I reached Bangalore, the nightmare did not end. He was not talking to me and he pointed out my mistakes day in and day out. I lost all confidence in myself.
I was a bad mother and bad wife according to him. I found solace in the fact that he didn't hit me, though he threatened to every time.
Whenever he was in a good mood he would speak with me nicely, but one mistake and everything was forgotten. If I put my point forward, all hell broke loose. Soon my way of retaliating changed. I hardly answered back earlier, I was miserably trying to defend myself all the time. I soon started losing all arguments to him. He also lost the Singapore opportunity.
I started working again when my son was just four months. I had no family support. With just one 8 hour maid, I started my journey again. Thankfully I had work from home. It was a really hard time. Work was demanding-baby was demanding-husband was demanding and demeaning. There was no appreciation coming my way. There were days when the maid vanished but I had to work with the baby in one hand and typing on the laptop with the other. My son was weak. He fell sick too often. He wouldn't eat enough.
With all insecurities my 'lover' had gifted me in this relationship, I could not think of leaving work and just taking care of my son.
My mother came in between to help me but those times were even more disturbing. My husband did not talk to her and he insulted me even more when she was there. But I kept going. Once, while my mother was there he provoked me so much that I slapped him in front of her.
I know it was wrong on my part but he still never realised how his cold attitude was killing me every day.
My son is now three and it has been seven years since I got married to this man. I had led a very happy life before. Now I have nothing but my son who I love more than my life. In all these years I have just struggled to fight the urge to kill myself. I dream of how one day I'll be able to make my man realise how I feel. He is distant. There are times in between when he is nice to me, but nothing close to caring and understanding.
Till I keep my mouth shut, everything seems fine. He doesn't care, that much is clear.
We do have sex sometimes but that’s it. I write to him many times about how I feel lonely and neglected, but he says it’s all in my head. These discussions only end in an argument. I have no hope for recovery now. I want to leave this country and go somewhere else.
May be this way he will miss me and will come back to me one day. It's frustrating but I'll deal with it till I can.
(Source: Akkarbakkar)
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