As part of my new Let me be your voice chronicles, here is the third and final part of the testimony I recieved from one of you Lovelies…
If you too have any untold story you’d like to write about, but are uncomfortable publishing on your own blog, just send it to me through my “Get in touch with Cyranny” page… It will be a pleasure for me to post it in the Cove anonymously… So you can see the eventual response your story brings from readers…
I thought John really did, want me that is. He went back to England after his short holiday in SA, sold his house over there, resigned from his job where he wasn’t very happy working, and came back to SA to marry me. The wedding was just before Christmas, his mom and uncle and my dad flew over to attend. Neither of us being religious, we got married in the beautiful gardens of a country restaurant. But what I didn’t know about my fiancé was that he hated dancing, so much so that he refused to dance with me at our own wedding. Again I felt ashamed, embarrassed and at a complete loss. I love dancing.
It was a hot day and that night in our bedroom at the hotel, Andrew reckoned he was too tired for intimacy so he got undressed, brushed his teeth and slept and snored the night away. That happened every night of our honeymoon and for a couple of weeks when we got back. We were living in my parent’s house rent free. John had found a job. Went to work every day, came home, wanted dinner ready as soon as he walked in, watched TV until he was tired and went to bed. He didn’t talk or communicate with me at all.
It seemed to me that I had just been a means to an end. He didn’t like his job in England, at 36 all of his friends were married or divorced with children. His mother had been overjoyed that he was getting married at long last as she had feared that he ‘might be gay’. He isn’t, just completely and utterly self-absorbed.
After we had been back from honeymoon a few days, my mom-in-law phoned from England while John was at work and advised me to go off the pill at once because ‘at your age you might find it difficult to fall pregnant’ and she desperately wanted grandchildren. I felt like telling her that I would find it difficult to fall pregnant anyway because her darling son wasn’t interested in having sex with me. I didn’t say that however. But when my husband got home from work I did tell him what his mother had said to me and surprisingly he agreed that I should go off the pill. He even had sex with me that night. And that’s all it was, sex. No foreplay, caresses or any ‘loving’. Just sex after which he got up, washed himself in the bathroom sink, got back into bed without saying a word to me, lay with his back to me and immediately fell off to sleep.
I had given up on getting anything else out of the relationship with me husband by then. We had sex once a week for three weeks and I fell pregnant. Sex stopped completely then. The first seven months of my pregnancy were fine and then I developed high blood pressure, I was no longer working and I was incredibly lonely and bored in my marriage. My son was born 24 days early after a nine hour labour, but he was perfect and gorgeous and instantly became my reason for living.
My husband found our son irritating and noisy and did none of the things I had seen other father’s do with pride. No nappy changing or cuddling, that seemed effeminate and unnecessary in my husband’s eyes. I felt like a single parent and apart from my husband providing the finance in our relationship, I was.
I was on the receiving end of lots of ‘we told you so’s’ from my sister and brother in law, who really didn’t like John. They couldn’t communicate with him either.
Then, when my son was six months old, my father came over to visit and see his grandson for the first time. A week into his visit, my dad had a massive heart-attack and died in his old armchair in the lounge. We all went back to England to his funeral, he was buried with my mom. When I got back home life continued as before – infrequent, loveless sex and silence at home.
My eldest son was 16 months old when I fell pregnant again. I had decided that another child would be a good idea as I didn’t want my son to be as alone as a child at home as I was as a wife at home. My second pregnancy was fine and I didn’t suffer any blood pressure problems and my second son was born a full-term healthy baby.
The boys are 20 and nearly 18 now and have been good company to one another. They are not close to their dad as he has never paid them much attention and as a big man and quick to anger, they have always been nervous of him. In 2011 after a short argument, my husband told me that I was a horrible person and that he had never loved me and accused me of lying to him and pretending to be someone I was not and therefore tricking him into marrying me. I could have said the same about him.
At the beginning of 2013 he went back to live and work in England and to be with his mom. The boys and I are much happier living without him and don’t look forward to his twice yearly visits.
He talks to me even less and as long as I cook and clean and look after the house and garden and run about doing endless but necessary chores, I seem to be earning my keep. He worked for three different companies while he was in South Africa and was not happy at any of them. He disliked the people he worked with and could not make friends with them. It seems the same is happening again back in England. He especially does not get on with his female boss there.
Looking back on my life now, I am horrified at the bad decisions that I made and the fact that apart from my sons, I have absolutely no accomplishments. I did go back to teaching when the boys started school but I became ill with a viral infection of my thyroid which caused me to develop hyperthyroidism and made me feel really awful for about three years. The virus worked its way out of my system and my thyroid returned to normal and I tried teaching again but just couldn’t cope with a classroom of badly behaved teenagers. It got to the stage where I was shaking and completely unable to speak, I was so stressed in the classroom. The doctor said I was close to a nervous breakdown or stroke and that I should stop teaching or any kind of stressful work. So I did.
I had always wanted to write and make a living from writing but my husband laughed at me and said he ‘would believe it when he saw it.’ He thought I was a joke period, but not a funny one. I did write a few articles and submit them to magazines but only received rejection letters.
So I started a blog in August this year, hoping to find encouragement and some inspiration from fellow bloggers and would be writers online.
These are all the things that have brought me to where I am now.