I Would Not Have Done The Same

Guest Writer: İsimsiz

I am 37 years old. I have said goodbye to my 32 years old single life, which I thought to be a very accomplished period of my life, as a result of getting pregnant and eloping. For the last 5 years, I am thinking about why I did this. I still do not know the answer. But I do know this: I would not have done the same. I mean the marriage here, not pregnancy.

I am the ones who become feminist after getting married. I feel like a fish glass was shut down on me. As if my life had not been filled with oppression before, I inserted my husband’s oppression to my life, too. Actually, it is not completely oppression… The moment I say this sentence I started the feel the tacit oppression’s burden on my heart…Hence, I am renouncing my earlier statement and saying again that yes, it is oppression.

I gave birth to two children. The first is the fruit of my love, the second is unintended pregnancy. I love both of them (I felt the need to say this because if I don’t, I know that I will be considered a bad mother by everyone). In one of the rare narrow-minded cities of the country, I give struggle for life with two children and a husband who is essentially narrow-minded as well but in denial of this. Even though my mind wakes up to a different world every morning, my body continues to serve this mindset during the day and the night. Sometimes I think my exhaustion is the fault of my mind. Could not one mind settle for the life it owns even just for a minute and escape from the idea that some things should be done? My mind cannot move away from these thoughts even when I am wiping my mother’s windows in the village, or cleaning up my mother-in-law’s house, and fulfilling my sacred duties against my husband. These days I’m trying to get out of this vicious cycle by trying to involve in a project. My husband became aware of this project which I care a lot by scrutinizing my phone. I did not want him pulling me down with his gorgeous comments.

But I don’t have a lot of room for maneuver since I have two kids and no one to ask for help. I flounder… Sometimes I get angry with my mind and say that I would have an easier life without such a mind. Other times I say to my husband that my life could have been fabulous without him. I was slapped because of this once or twice. Don’t exaggerate dear, he is my husband… Do you know what I did later? I justified and legitimized his behavior by saying to myself that I should not have said things that triggers him… Don’t overstate, that’s the truth.

Why am I writing these? Because I do not care anymore. I didn’t give up either, but I have learned to live all of this by myself. I’ve learned to stay silent. Women around here haven’t been inviting me even to their home meetings for three years now. Either they think I’m crazy, or they do not like me. Now I am trying to raise my children as individuals who are integrated to the system and society and who does not think much. I want them to be happy. They do not need to live what I have been through.

I can write a lot more and I can write longer, but I’m too lazy for it right now. You should get back while you still can, too. Obey your husbands. If you publish this essay, publish it anonymously. The woman has no name around here anyways.