How Do You Stay Married To Someone Who Never Loved You?

He admitted he was forced to marry me and that he had a girl he liked.

Author: Aline Igihozo

Have you ever felt overwhelmed and tired of everything that you hate life for what it is? You hate where you were born, your region and your family. Not to forget where life is taking you every single day.

Have you ever felt like every life you live is unfair? Like it was given to you by mistake maybe or that somebody tricked God into choosing you for it?

Well, if you are there, congratulations! You are not the only one. Meet me. We are in this together.

I am a 27 years old young divorced woman. I am black, yes because I am African as we normally claim, but my skin is really dark. Despite my medium height and short hair, I think I am beautiful.

I prefer to say that I was just unlucky to have lived this kind of life. It could have been someone else, but it chose me. So however beautiful, smart or educated I might think I am, I am still the same pathetic woman who has cried on a stone all her life.

The stone lies in a nearby forest of my town. Not a lot of people go in there, except those working out. I grew up seeing people go there for jogging. I envied these people.

I kept asking God why I have to be the one going in the forest (to my stone) to cry when others went jogging.

In my town, people who jog spare those people who think they have made it in life and those who eat good food.

See, those are the people I shared our forest with. Most of them jogged in the mornings, so whenever I wanted to go there I would go in the evenings when no one was watching me.

The stone was the king of comfort. Well, think about it; I could tell it all of my sorrows and hardships, and it never reacted or judged me. I liked it! I knew that even when I was being too much, it could never judge me. So I always went there.

I went to my stone when my mum died. I didn’t know how to think of life anymore. It was too much for me to comprehend. All my mother’s life, she was so understanding and she would choose my side against my father’s. Then she was gone.

Let alone my father who started beating me ever since she died, because according to him, I resembled my mother so much that he couldn’t bear living with me in the same house.

I would go to the forest in the late evening and just cry my heart out.

Ooh and I went there to cry again when my father married another woman, my stepmother!

Stories of stepmothers are known worldwide. Some of them are so good that they will be your second mother, but pray that you won’t come across that one who thinks you are in the way of her happiness.

I also went there when my father gave me away to my aunt. He said if I could spend some years not living under the same roof as him, then maybe he could be happy with his wife. My Aunt lived not so far, so I didn’t even get the reason I was sent away when they would be seeing me often anyway.

My stepmother was very happy I was leaving; “Let us see who is going to stand in my way again you little brat.” she yelled after me. My heart broke into pieces then, I realized I belonged nowhere. I realized they were going to keep moving me from house to house until I grew up.

How could my aunt’s family love me, when my very own family didn’t? I was just glad I had somewhere I could be myself and say everything that hurt me most, but still... the stone had no answers. Sometimes I wished it had them.

Well, I expected of course my cousins made me do all of their chores. I had no problem with it, my mother had raised me to be a hardworking lady anyway. Tables turned around in the night when everyone had supper on the dining table, and I had to be reminded I am an outsider.

I had to eat outside with the house girl. I could take that as well, I honestly didn’t mind. But when my aunt’s husband tried to rape, I knew it was the end of me. I screamed, my aunt came to my rescue as well as the others. I was finally glad she chose me. My heart skipped a bit with joy. It actually smiled.

That is a one night in a million that I went to give thanks to God on my stone.

The following day my father and the others came to ask what had happened.

I didn’t see it coming but my aunt said I behaved ruthlessly in front of her husband and tried to sneak him away from her. My whole body went cold.

It was a family gathering of course, so they decided I was no good. They said I had to leave the city. I was so confused, so I prayed; “God, please whatever they decide, let me not leave the city. That stone is the only family I have.”

After a while my dad said, I guess with all the love he had left for me and my mother, he instructed me to get married. They all agreed it was a great idea for me to marry. My dad recommended some guy saying he was a son of a friend of his.

That night I cried until dawn. The stone was filled with my tears! I couldn’t believe that I was going to get married after everything I had been through, I was still going to be sent off to some guy I didn’t know. Some guy I had never seen.

Life has a way surprising you in so many different ways that you start like things are happening as you expected. I had always dreamed of falling for a guy who could be my shield and a promise to a good future.

A guy whom I could confide in, and share my insecurities with, a guy who could love me like my heart desired. That one dream I had was also gone.

It is very funny how I wasn’t the type to dream much like other educated kids, but still the one dream I had was also gone. I was left with nothing but my stone. I had to pray my husband-to-be was from the city.

Lucky me, he was from the city. And as much as I hated all of this, at least I was glad I was going to have a home of my own. I got married to Joseph, and I hoped that at least that one would work for me.

Not long after we got married, he started coming home late and drunk. I didn’t know what to do, so I went back to my stone to cry every evening before he came home. Days later, he started beating me up every night. Whether he was drunk or not, he would come home and start blaming me for his misfortune.

That was when I realized that my life was something else. It was too much for me to take in, I was no longer even sure going to the forest was any use. But still I went there, at least I had where I could say whatever I was going through and feel a little bit at ease. And life went on for years.

This one evening when I went to cry as every other evening, I realized it had been 4years that I was married to Joseph. Never in those years have I felt a shred of his love, well, neither have I ever felt with my family anyways.

Then I asked myself what could possibly happen if I stood up for myself. “How hard can it be? I have nothing to lose anyway.” I told myself. I was 25years old by then when I decided to stand for myself.

That one evening I didn’t cry, instead I prayed for strengths and left the forest with a brave heart. I went home, looked in Joseph’s eyes and asked him to divorce me. He said I wasn’t thinking straight because I had nowhere to go, and I told him I wasn’t scared of life anymore.

He agreed though, he said he’d happily destroy our marriage because it meant nothing to him.

He admitted he was forced to marry me and that he had a girl he liked. We got divorced, and he left me the house (He must have been really glad we did). I started a new life, worked my heart out to where I am today. It’s been 2 years since I stood up for myself.

It is very surprising when you see how life unfolds after you take that one decision that you have always been afraid of taking. Well, this whole story is in the heart of a stone I cried on every night. And that stone held my life for so long. If only I had a way of turning my gratitude.