I see many Articles online about Abuse. Abuse by coworkers, friends, fathers, ex-boyfriends, and sometimes strangers.
I feel like I have to whisper this story of mine, because it is to remain a secret forever. I can’t speak up loud enough for my children to hear. Life would be ruined. And it is a picture perfect life.
When you say no, for an hour, and he persistently tries to open your legs as you ride in his car. When he grabs your boobs and pulls your pants down ‘as a joke’, expecting you to laugh it off, but your child is right there, and no laughing off can happen. When you take shower, and he walks in naked, and you tremble, because nothing is going to go your way. Nothing. You will pretend to be turned on, hoping that you can relax and feel good. And sometimes get dehumanized and feel like an inconsiderately fucked dog, ashamed of what had just happened to your body, humiliated, and crying. “But I thought that is what you wanted”, he says.
And then you are sucking it up and going downstairs to visit with his parents. Because he is your husband. Kind provider, community helper, caring son, talented professional.
Because I love him, and I want him to love me. Because my children have a good life. Because nobody – nobody – could possibly believe me.