Domestic abuse comes in many shapes and forms. It affects both men and women. NO ONE deserves to be abused, whether it’s emotional, physical or sexual.
What we can do as a society, is raise awareness and help others in the same situation overcome their troubles.
Miss honey did exactly that. She has written out her darkest troubles with the intention of helping others. Let’s respect her courage and spread the word ❤️
I have contemplated whether or not to publish a blog post on this cut-throat issue for some time now. Each time I began typing, I deleted the chaos of emotion that lay before me on my laptop screen. Is it too personal? Is it too shameful? Is it too… humiliating?
I’m afraid to admit that all of the above points prevented me from posting this in the past. However, I look around me and I realise that maybe my words need to be read. Maybe my voice needs to be heard. So here I am, mustering up all the courage I possibly can, in the hopes of helping other young girls who may be facing the same.
“YOU’RE AN ABSOLUTE JOKE.”
I could feel the familiarity of bitter paralyzation in my bones, rising to the surface of my skin.
“YOU’RE PATHETIC, LOOK AT YOU. I CAN’T DEAL WITH YOUR CRAP ANYMORE.”
His fists were beginning to hit the steering wheel now. Smashing against it in sheer anger at the sight of tears streaming down my face.
How dare I cry when it was all my fault?
I could hear my heart beating rapidly, echoing in my ears.
My stomach was spinning.
I wanted so much to close my eyes and pretend it wasn’t happening.
I couldn’t understand, why couldn’t I have just kept my mouth shut? Why did I have to start it again?
I was always causing problems you see. I was always too annoying. Always too much effort. Always too much of a problem. Always causing trouble and always deserving of his anger.
A slideshow of pictures flashed through my mind, of the beginning. Of the red roses. Of the proposal. Of the charm. Of the attentiveness. Of the chemistry. Of the immense joy I felt when we were first husband and wife.
“YOU’VE ALWAYS GOT TO EMBARRASS ME.”
I was jolted back to the present moment by the deafening sound of his shouting.
This wasn’t really happening yet again, surely?
We were the perfect couple on the outside. “Instagram goals”, I was told time and time again. My friends would fawn “you’re soooooooooo lucky”. Why did I not feel lucky then? When inside I was made to feel that I was not worthy to be the dirt on his shoes?
This is how it’s going to end, I thought. As he rammed the accelerator and cut a bend at a speed that made me scream. He always had to be in control, and he felt a sense of victory when I got scared.
This feeling was far too familiar to me now.
These moments were beginning to happen too often, I thought, as I felt bitter disappointment in myself.
What was wrong with me? Why did I always have to say the wrong thing? Why did I always have to do the wrong thing? Why was I so annoying? Why couldn’t I be more like he wanted me to be?
I thought back to the day of our ruksati. The day I heard my dad say to him “I’m giving you my heart, all I ask is that you take care of my heart.” I sobbed under the protection of my dupatta, hidden from everyones eyes, knowing myself fine well that it was never his intention to take care of my dads’ heart. He wanted to crush me until I became nothing. All of my family watched on as the car drove off and he attempted to put his arms around me, I froze. “I know that things have been… difficult, but I’m going to take care of you from now on, I promise you.” I opened my mouth to reply, to SCREAM, but nothing came out.
Difficult? Things have been difficult?
Did he not realise that I had lost a bigger part of myself each day?
Did he not realise that his constant criticism, control and emotional torture had left my self-esteem on the floor?
I thought now of my dad. My mum. My brother. All of my family. Who had no idea what was going on. I was terrified of telling anyone… because I was scared of how crazy I would sound.
Surely it was all in my head?
How could this lovely, charming, successful man possibly be a monster?
It must be me.
At least that is what he repeated to me on a regular basis.
It was always me.
I was the problem. I was the one with a temper. I was the one who caused arguments. I was the one who was violent.
It was all me.
Why did I feel so alone when I was surrounded by people?
Why did I feel that I wasn’t smart enough? pretty enough? GOOD ENOUGH?
Why couldn’t I be like the girls whom he compared me to?
So many things did not make sense, my mind was a constant state of chaos, unable to decipher what was going on and anxiously wondering whether today was going to be a good day or a bad day.
Wondering what I would do or say next to set him off…
“GET OUT THE CAR. NOW.”
2 years later…
I am only just beginning to realise that it was never me.
I was enough, and I am enough.
I refuse to blame myself any longer.
Girls who may be in the same situation, or know someone who is in a similar situation, please hear me when I tell you that you are enough.
You are strong. You are resilient. You are amazing. You are not deserving of his anger or his abuse.
There will come a day, when you will be ready to close that door, and watch a new one open. Don’t be hard on yourself for the learning process you undertake before that day, nor the mistakes you make in between – you are healing.
With love always, Miss Honey ♥ xx
London Tu Lahore 