There comes a point where explaining your pain feels pointless. You speak, but it feels like talking to a wall. I realized this slowly, not in one just moment, but through a series of small, exhausting incidents.
One day, after hearing complaints about me being shared by husband casually with others, I chose silence. I accepted the blame, not because I agreed, but because I was too tired to defend myself again. Sometimes, it feels easier to carry the weight, blame than to keep proving you deserve to be heard or solved.
I tried to open up about something that genuinely affected me, my work hours. A mandatory 9-hour schedule may sound normal to some, but for me, it meant waking up at 5 AM, catching a 6:40 cab, or choosing a later shift that stretched my day endlessly. The commute itself was draining—long, uncomfortable rides over rough roads, often leaving me physically sick. My day wasn’t just work—it was nearly 10 hours of survival.
I held it in for two days, hoping when I finally shared it, I’d receive at least a little comfort. Instead, I igonreance.
There were other moments too. Times when I needed support—not dramatic gestures, just presence. Just someone standing beside me, showing I mattered. But that support never came. And over time, the absence of care started hurting more than any harsh words.
And then there’s something harder to say out loud. abuse. Not just emotional, but physical. What hurts even more is realizing that this is not “normal.” That other women around you are treated with basic respect, while you’re left questioning your worth.
So, what is the real problem here?
The deeper issue many women face is being unheard, unsupported, and made to feel invisible in their own lives.
