I always wanted to be a mother. I have had a picture of the kind of mother I would be and all the things I wouldn’t do as a mom since I was in college.
There would be three kids, I would have two and adopt one. Then the master dream changer struck and blew it all into thin air.
Motherhood was automatically erased from my list when I became aware of the extent of my injuries. I couldn’t dare dream or think of it.
However, I am an African woman I cannot choose to remain single or unmarried. It is unacceptable. People wouldn’t stop asking questions and counseling with or without your encouragement.
They judge base on what they can see, a beautiful and averagely successful woman without a man. She should be married with two or three children, if she’s not she’s either arrogant, promiscuous or choosy.
What they can’t see is that the beauty and success are a front for a broken heart and soul. A woman afraid of her own shadow, afraid of closing her eyes for fear of the demons that lurk behind them
I was scared of being touched because I had been prodded and pricked too many times. I could not bear the thought of intimacy with any man because all I could feel is the hot iron rod that tore through my virginal ripping out my perineal and anus
How then can I think of becoming a mother? How do I satisfy a man? How do I carry his child when I couldn’t carry my own weight?
I remembered the Doctor telling me I might never enjoy sex because there was a lot of damages down there. Although they fixed, packed and tucked in I would never remain the same. But who would I explain all that too?
They didn’t bother about the things they don’t see. They forget we all have those things we keep hidden from everyone. The ones we don’t talk about no matter how free we are are. The ones we mask with our pretty make ups and nice clothes.
These are the things that make up the larger part of who we are. The battles we fight secretly within ourselves and with ourselves.
These private battles keep us going. They are our drives, our strength and anchor. Fighting and surviving them make life worth living, without them we cease to live.
They are the part of our lives we should be able to discuss freely without fear of harsh judgement. Or the ones we should accept judgement or not, because they are the fire trying us; making us courageous, strong and beautiful.