Archive for July, 2012

Is it normal to go into an existentialist crisis after a miscarriage?

To wonder about who you are and what really is life and whether you mean a lot to God or simply nothing?

To have your heart beat so fast that you start wondering how far is your finish line anyway?

To physically be so exhausted that you wonder how bad could a paralysis be?

To be ashamed of how easy it is for you to doubt everything you ever believed in?



Walk away if you want to.

There is a brand of shame and humiliation you feel when your husband tells you to pack your bags and leave.

I don’t know of a married woman who hasn’t heard it. Mostly it’s said in a burst of anger, during or after some everyday fight. It’s not to be translated into action. That’s hardly the expectation. It’s just a bunch of angry words.just an empty threat.

Husband, I know you love me and you always mean well. But when you say this you kill me. Kill my selfrespect, kill my ego. You know I don’t have nowhere to go. So in that moment I feel so frustrated and it is only out of that sheer frustration that I start regressing. I start wrapping up the argument. I mean even without the protruding belly, I couldn’t have braved the world on my own. What will I do with a child?… So while before I could throw a tantrum and go stay at a friend’s now I feel humiliated and ashamed and frustrated and belittle-d

So if you want the woman you married and not some undignified, sorry excuse for a person, don’t say this again. It takes away from who I am, the woman you love.


There are a many. A great many.

But nothing can be more frustrating than unrequited love, I tell you.

I remember a time when husband pined after me. Saw me with I-want-to-Fuck-you-bad-eyes and had his heart broken by many a cruel demands for space. I was ruthless like that.

Four years later, post a marriage of two years and a baby on it’s way I guess I have lost it. Whatever that bloody “it” was. He wants food and fresh clothes in the morning. I want conversations and sex. He wants me to give him space. I want his hands all over me. It doesn’t help that he’s filled up oh so nicely and still smells so good.

So yeah, this unrequited love business is the cruellest ever, for sure.