A Birthday Marked by Pain: My Story of Survival and Healing**
I used to be excited about my birthday. It’s just a few days away, but this year, I don’t feel the excitement I once did. In the past, I would have been busy spreading the word, but now, I’m struggling to find something worth celebrating. The day brings back bad memories. You see, I married the wrong man on my birthday. At first, I loved the idea of celebrating my birthday along with our wedding anniversary. My ex-husband chose the wedding date. My dad let him pick because they were the ones coming from out of town. If I had known what was once a joyful day would turn into a painful memory, I would never have agreed to get married on my birthday. It turned out I married my enemy. I married a man who only wanted to see me fail. Before we got married, I was doing well financially. But then he started pressuring me to quit my job, saying he didn’t like it. I refused, and that made me the breadwinner by default. Since I wouldn’t give up my career, he decided he wouldn’t work at all. He spent his days at home, sleeping, while I worked, cared for our baby, and made sure there was food on the table. We lived in a nice house with free utilities, all thanks to me. The only thing he contributed to our marriage was sex. And when I finally went bankrupt, his true colors showed. I would be starving along with our baby, and he’d only buy food for himself, eating it right in front of me. When I asked him what I should eat, he’d demand to know where all my money had gone—money I’d spent trying to keep up with his lazy lifestyle. I rented and beautifully furnished our home, all on my own, and everyone would praise him, saying he was taking care of me, when in reality, I was the one doing everything. And what did I gain from it? Trauma. His family stood by him, no matter what. Everything he did was right in their eyes because, as they saw it, he was a man and shouldn’t be questioned. With their help, he almost got me thrown in jail, using his father’s political influence against me. They accused me of blackmailing him. And after everything, he had the nerve to say, “I never loved you, I just married you out of pity.” For goodness’ sake, I was the one who married him out of pity! I initially turned down his marriage proposal, but he had so many people, including his parents, siblings, friends, and even my own parents, pressuring me to say yes. Now, I’m free from him, but I’m not healed enough to celebrate my birthday. It’s still too painful. The trauma was too much for me to handle. I don’t know why I can’t move past this yet. Maybe it’s because I never wanted to get married in the first place, and my mom persuaded me to go through with it. Or maybe it’s because I ended up marrying the worst man ever. Or perhaps it’s because he’s not remorseful at all and has moved on with his life like I never even existed. Or maybe it’s because I still haven’t fully recovered, emotionally or financially. I just don’t feel any reason to celebrate myself on my birthday this year. I need hugs. I know this too shall pass, but for now, it’s still hard.
