This post is written by a lady who does not wish to be named. Not because she is ashamed of her thoughts but the society is quick to decide her character.
To my dear hubby,
There are some things in life which make you judge yourself and rip you apart mentally. It is cruel to consciously tell yourself that I had been a bad girl. Now what is the definition of the so called word ‘bad’ – characterless? Someone who is married but still casually flirts or casually puts a hand on another man’s shoulder while talking? Is she bad? Smiling demurely and fluttering my eyelashes, does that make me a bad girl? Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear?
You always wanted me to stay in my limitations, the so called ‘maryada’ in our language. Which I did, I woke up early morning, served tea to you and your parents, made breakfast, made lunch for your so called clients. I did what was expected out of Mrs Goody Two Shoes. And while I am in no mood to make love, you still want to, I give in easily thinking maybe just maybe this may make you love me more. Somewhere my staying in limits, my giving in easily may make you love while inside my entire cells of womanhood screams aloud telling me to listen to her.
The woman that is there inside, that woman who craves to be equally loved, to be respected and not to be treated like a remote controlled car.
But you have failed to see that, what once I thought was love has withered and that romance has sort of died between the both of us. Maybe all you were seeking was just someone who can do all your dirty laundry, hand over your underwear on time, see to it that the washroom is clean, that the cupboard does not spill your clothes out even if you put a dirty wet towel on our bed (which is okay by your standards). But I am supposed to maintain the house simply because for ages your mother and other women have imbibed those values in you that unfortunately women were born to do this.
That’s when a man younger to me caught my fancy. Not because he was young. Because he gave me importance, that respect that I was craving for. It wasn’t love that attracted me to him in the first place. But he made me feel as if I was a human being first and then a woman. He took care of what I wanted (which I so wish you did), he didn’t like to see me sad (wish you shared the same emotion – instead of mentally torturing me) and made me feel special (again, I so wish you did this too).
And do you know when did I meet him?
When you were busy connecting with your ex girlfriend trying to sleep with her and all. When I heard those conversations of yours with her I so wished that you had spoken to me like that. Because in all these years, I have never heard you speaking like that to me. Even when I go to my mother’s place, you just simply ask how my day was; where all did I go and hang up.
But I found nothing wrong in indulging myself with this man. Not because he gave me that orgasm that I so wanted. It was never about sex. He didn’t treat me like one. Sex had become mechanical between you and me. It was more of you spilling out your frustration on my poor, little vagina – in what you call machoism of yours.
And so I meet this guy whenever I wanted to, I know this little fling is just temporary. But it does so much more than just fill my senses. He makes me feel like the most important person in this world. He does not seek the homemaker in me, he does not ask if I keep the bathroom clean or question if I have done my duties well. And a bond or a relationship is and never was about how much of the task is completed.
Rather it’s the feeling; I could have loved myself more only if you wouldn’t have thrown those sarcastic comments and taunts 24/7 at me.
And it is solely because of this reason dear husband that I do not feel guilty. I did once when he tried to hold my hand. I flinched away thinking and judging myself to be a characterless woman.
But I am not a characterless woman. Though I have left him and moved ahead in my life, I have learned that I no more need your appreciation which I was craving for initially. And that nobody can love me more than myself. No one understands me better than myself. Maybe this extra marital affair was just a realization and nothing else.
And to all the women out there, the sooner you realize the importance of self love the better. And to my husband, I believe I did nothing wrong and as you say in your words, ‘It was just a passing affair’.
After all everything is fair in love and war!