The Woman Abused…

Once upon a time in your life, it hits you! It is in that moment when like they say, lightning strikes you. You awake to see a different part of you- a revelation. You suddenly realize what your mind had tried so hard to hide. The fact that eluded you – that crucial piece you couldn’t find.

Yet for so long, I have tried to find what my heart sought the most. A deeper connection with my being. And just as he struck me – I found it.  I saw it in the stars that revolved around my pain…

She cleared her voice noisily breaking my reverie- “what did you see?” she asked gently. I was suddenly self-conscious, I tried to avoid her expectant face and shrugged.  

As usual, I had left my therapist hanging on my last words, “stars”. I swallowed and took a shaky sip of water.  

Dr. Awosika got up from her chair and walked to the window- she stroked the rich red drapery as she peered outside of her upscale Manhattan office …

“It looks like a storm is on its way, brace yourself”… “A storm” I echoed – ever since I could remember not a single day has past in my thirty-three years of existence that has not involved one storm or the other. In fact I have come to love storms.

http://www.creativeadawards.com/hurt-girl/
http://www.creativeadawards.com/hurt-girl/

“Yes a storm” she affirmed- and pulled the drapery aside to reveal rich grey puffs of angry clouds glaring amused by our stares. We stared at it for a while…

“So are you going to”…  she trailed off as I started to shake my hard.

“You know I can’t – I shuddered as I recalled Andrew’s face.  “No, it’s something I must bear. Moreover, it’s what my culture would expect”.

“What culture”? She quizzed…

I nodded “I am African” I replied simply, “women don’t abandon their marriages”. You must bear it stoically”!

“Yeah”, she agreed  “but you are an African in America, there is a difference”.

“But I am also African from Nigeria”, I retorted and shrugged – “I guess this where we have different perspectives”.

We both stopped arguing and maintained a quietly disapproving silence. Each lost in the others conflicting perspective. I didn’t need anyone to tell me this session was over and frankly- I didn’t care. And as if on cue, the sound of thunder shattered the silence ominously… I retreated back into my shell.

To be continued…

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