Hello my husband,
I'm writing to you anonymously, not because I don't have the courage to tell you to your face, but because I don't have the opportunity at the moment. I wish I had never met you. Maybe then I wouldn't have experienced all these things. Or maybe I did, because they say fate is written.
If it weren't for our disabled son, I would have said it in time: never lay eyes on you again, nor on your backward family, which has left you with so much trauma.
What about me, what is my fault in all this?
What's my fault that they taught you that roles are separate? That you don't do the housework, you don't take care of the children, you don't wash, you don't support?
What's my fault that you think my months-long stay in hospitals was "my duty," while you didn't have to be there?
My sacrifice for our family is very great. I left everything I had in Albania. Today I am just an immigrant, with no income, no way out, taking care of a child with special needs 24 hours a day. Not because I lack the skills, you know very well that I would have excelled anywhere, but because I lack the opportunity.
What is my fault that you think you have the right to raise your hands on me, to scream for no reason, to believe that everything should be done when and how you want?
I'm only grateful for our daughter. But really, I'm grateful to myself, for having to endure 10 months of needles, for staying in hospitals for 6 months, for fighting hard so that she would come into life healthy and not like her brother.
It hurts me to no end when I think about her, because I know she's growing up seeing this behavior as something normal; for a man to scream, throw up his hands, and vent for no reason. But I will try with all my strength to make sure this doesn't happen. I will raise her with love, care, and teach her to value herself. And the first moment I get the chance...
I'll tell you: go fuck yourself.
I would like to tell you much more, but for now this is enough. Even though I cannot get all the evil out of my soul and skin, I am sure that one day I will succeed.
I'm writing to you anonymously, because at the moment I don't have the opportunity to tell you face to face.
With much, much regret for my current version.
I hope one day you hear these things face to face, not in an anonymous letter.
Pray for me.
- Written for Anabel by an anonymous woman, for the “Untold Stories” column – the haven where we recount those moments when the heart wants to speak, whether about the good or the difficult, about the deepest feelings that we don't want to keep inside. If you too would like to share your story, write to us at [email protected] .
