A hidden Letter from a Women's Heart

Dear Friend,

Love is a beautiful emotion that has the power to bring immense happiness. When she first fell in love with him, her heart was filled with dreams of a shared future, support, and mutual respect. However, over time, those dreams began to fade, replaced by a harsh reality she never anticipated.

In the beginning, she believed in the strength of their love, thinking it could overcome any obstacle. But as days turned into months and then years, she realized that love alone is not enough. When a man refuses to take responsibility for his actions, when he insults, mocks, and belittles her, the foundation of that love starts to crumble. The person she once adored became a source of pain, someone who inflicted wounds not just on her body, but on her soul.

It's heartbreaking to admit, but she has been beaten and kicked in front of their child. The physical pain was unbearable, but the emotional scars cut even deeper. She stayed silent, hiding the bruises and the tears, because she wanted to protect their child. She thought enduring the abuse was a way to shield them from the harsh reality of a broken home. She convinced herself that staying was the lesser evil, that sacrificing her own well-being was worth it if it meant their child would have both parents.

But the truth is, staying in such a toxic environment does more harm than good. Children are perceptive; they see and feel the tension, the anger, and the fear. By staying, she was teaching her child that such behavior is acceptable, that it's okay to hurt and be hurt. This realization was devastating, but it was also the first step towards reclaiming her strength.

She kept her mouth shut about the abuse, hoping that her silence would maintain the facade of a perfect family. The world saw him as a good man, oblivious to the nightmare that unfolded behind closed doors. Her silence gave him power, allowing him to continue his facade while she withered away in the shadows.

To any woman reading this, enduring similar pain, she wants you to know that you are not alone. Your love is not a curse, and your silence is not a testament to your strength.  Your life, your happiness, and your well-being matter. You deserve to be loved and respected, not just by others, but by yourself.

It's not always possible to leave, especially when children are involved. However, remember that you have the right to live a life free from abuse and fear. 

Try to silently stay away from them whenever possible. These people won't understand at all and will continue to hurt you, but you have the power to fight silently and stay strong. I know he crushed you and trashed your trust, but it's important to pick yourself up and move on. Even in silence, you can reclaim your strength and protect your heart. Remember, your resilience and quiet determination are powerful tools to rebuild your life.

Love should lift you up, not tear you down. It's time to rewrite the narrative, to break the silence, and to reclaim your life. You deserve to be cherished, respected, and safe.

With all her heart,

A Woman Who Silently Fights the Battle

Bond of Mother and Child

This article was submitted for the Making Moms Proud | Mother's Day contest 2024, organized by Gold Winner.

As Mother's Day approaches, my heart reminisce with the unbreakable bond between my mother and me. It was a day etched in my memory, ten days before my due date, when my world tilted on its axis.

The urgency in the hospital walls echoed as the doctor's grave expression mirrored the gravity of the situation. The words "increased fetal blood flow" and "emergency c-section" hung heavily in the air.

Months of dedication to achieving a normal delivery, including a daily 10,000-step walk, one hour of pelvic floor exercises, an hour of prenatal yoga in the evening, and 100 squats, flashed before my eyes. The flood of emotions was overwhelming, and the hopes for a natural birth seemed distant.

In that moment, all I wanted was to avoid the surgery. "Give me an injection to induce labor pain," I pleaded, hoping for a different outcome. But reality set in as the doctor explained the risks, and I reluctantly agreed to the c-section.

In this turn of events, my husband's promise to stand by me broke as responsibilities called, compelling him to depart from the hospital. He assured me he would return within two hours. I clutched his hand, seeking solace in his presence, but he reluctantly released his grip and left me to navigate the anxious hours ahead alone.

The pre-procedure preparations began, but I had a phobia for Injections. When the nurse attempted to insert the needle into my vein for the first time, my hands swelled, and blood flowed heavily. Tears streamed down my face as the nurse made another attempt, resulting in a torrent of blood and tears from my eyes.

My mother rushed to the hospital as soon as she heard the news, joining me in this emotional turmoil. Tears started dropping like rain as my mother came near, holding my hand and asking, 'Is everything really good?'

Her strict upbringing during my childhood resulted in a distinct lack of closeness between us. It was the first time she held my hand; we had rarely touched or sat close for years.

In that moment, her touch spoke volumes, bridging years of disconnect. I have always known my mother to be a pillar of strength, never letting her emotions show. Yet, as I reflect on her unwavering discipline and sacrifices, I realize that her guidance has shaped me in profound ways. Her strength became a living example of how to navigate challenges and pursue career goals.

With her by my side, I confessed,"I am a failure," 

"You are strong," she affirmed, drawing from her own experiences of childbirth.

My mother gently brushed my head and spoke, "Ramya, your sister's birth was a normal delivery for me. However, for you, it was twelve hours of labor, sleepless nights, and ultimately an emergency c-section for our well-being. In those times, c-sections were stigmatized."

My mother continued, "Few things are not in hand. You are strong; you will recover swiftly. This thought will fade once you hold your child," she affirmed. Her words of comfort induced confidence in me as she wiped my tears, and I cooperated with the nurse.

As I was wheeled towards the operating room, I not only went with emotional and physical strength but also with resilience inherited from generations of strong women. My mother's hand on mine, a silent vow of support, gave me the courage to embrace the journey ahead.

Motherhood, I realized, isn't just about giving birth; it's about enduring and learning. My journey to motherhood was marked by challenges, but it was also adorned with support and the enduring strength passed down through generations.

To all the mothers who navigate storms with grace, love unconditionally, and inspire resilience, Happy Mother's Day. You are the pillars of strength, the silent warriors who shape futures with love, courage, and unwavering determination.

As the doctor announced, "It's a B-O-Y... boy," and I heard his first cry, the way of his arrival—whether through c-section or natural birth—faded into insignificance. 

In that moment, he became my world, filling my heart with love.