I am a married woman, and it has been six years since my wedding. But in all these years, I have never truly been happy in this marriage, not for a single day. Before getting married, I had been in relationships, but I was a complete virgin. I chose this marriage on my own, believing it would give me security, love, and a stable life. Instead, it turned out to be the biggest, most suffocating mistake of my life.
I was raised by my grandmother since childhood. She was my entire world. In 2015, when she passed away, everything in my life collapsed. My mother is alive, but she lives in a prayer center, completely detached from the real world. My father is as good as dead to me. He never played a role in our lives. After my grandmother’s death, I had no one, no roof of my own, no stability, no one to protect me.
That’s when I said yes to marrying my husband. He was already a divorcee, but in my desperation and loneliness, I thought it was my only option. At the time, I was in the third semester of my B.Com degree, but after marriage, my in-laws made it crystal clear that I was not allowed to continue my studies or pursue a career. They didn’t want an educated daughter-in-law, just a silent servant.
I gave in, thinking maybe that would bring peace, maybe they’d accept me. I regret that decision every single day. I bent over backwards trying to please them, killing parts of myself one by one, but nothing I ever did was good enough. Eventually, I tried to reclaim some control over my life and enrolled in B.Com through an open university. But that hope was crushed too. Soon after, I got pregnant, and studying became impossible again.
The trap just kept tightening. Over these six years, my relationship with my husband has deteriorated beyond repair. The environment in our home is toxic. I have zero freedom, zero space to make decisions. I never had a problem being a housewife, but I now realize that being independent, being respected, being heard is more important than anything, more important than even staying alive.
My child is now 14 months old. I’ve once again enrolled in IGNOU, this time for a BA degree. But the truth is, I don’t enjoy my life at all. I am living a half life, trapped in this house like a prisoner, a shadow, a ghost of who I once was. I spend 350 days a year locked in, isolated, invisible. No friends, no support, no social interaction, no chance to grow, to learn, to become something more.
My husband is a master manipulator. He uses abusive, degrading words that I can’t even repeat. He strips me of my dignity every single day. And yes, over time, I’ve started lashing back. Bitterness has seeped into my own words because that’s the only language anyone seems to respond to in this house. There are days I’ve stood in front of the mirror and questioned whether ending it all would be easier.
But I never follow through. I can’t. I have a baby now. And my child deserves a mother who fights, who rises, who survives. I feel absolutely nothing for my husband. Not emotionally, not physically. Just disgust and exhaustion. I’m running on fumes, but I’m still running. I don’t know how much longer I can endure this, but I do know I want out. I want freedom. I want to breathe again.
And despite all of this, despite the mental breakdowns, the emotional trauma, the loneliness, I still have a dream. I want to become a civil servant. I want to rebuild my life from scratch. Not just for me, but for my child. I want to show my baby that it’s possible to rise from the ashes. The road ahead is terrifying. But I’m ready to walk it.
Question: Should I still hold on to hope?
Option 1: Yes
Option 2: No
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