Thursday, January 28, 2016
There is a particular moment from my childhood I recall so vividly and precisely as if it happened yesterday. I remember falling off a tree, hurting really badly because I realised the painful truth that I wasn't Pocahontas and there was no way I could climb up as gracefully. My dad found me on the ground crying and feeling powerless and said that I could do anything in the world and not a single tree could stop me. And if I wanted to climb that tree I would! I asked him worriedly what if I got hurt or scratched again?! Dad said there was always gonna be somebody putting a plaster on my wound. His reassurance calmed me down and I kept climbing without the fear of falling.
Throughout my life I learned the hard way that if I fall down there's only me on that dirty floor doing the bandaging and stitching. Aching and crying over the worst heartache is meant to be done alone. Growing up however I've never really worried about anything. I always thought I could do and become anyone in the world that nobody could hurt me or stop me. That was almost 20 years ago and now being 26 years old, living in Seville, Spain I find myself entirely bruised and aching because of men...
You'd think living in Europe especially in Spain you are safe from discrimination and you can speak up and fully express yourself. Well that's what I thought. Unfortunately the truth has hit me hard and I'm not sure how to recover.
As I mentioned in my latest blog post about my life in Seville, there was a pregnancy scare I was facing with Marc, a colleague I slept with couple times. I've mentioned I was in love with him and he wasn't. This is a letter I wrote to him explaining what happened in last couple months.
After the blood test turned negative I finally felt I could move on and forget about you. I tried to have fun, go out and live my life the best way I could.
However my body and my emotions wouldn't let me... I had an evidence of not being pregnant and yet my body was telling me otherwise. I didn't recognise it anymore. I thought my body was stolen from me... It felt like suddenly I had to share it with an unknown stranger. At times I was worried I was going crazy and paranoid. How do you fight the reason against million overwhelming feelings? Despite all the evidence I had, I simply knew there was something wrong. So I went for a scan. I just had to do it, for the sake of my sanity. That day I found out I wasn't going crazy after all. As soon as I saw the outline of a baby on the scan I shivered with the quiet resignation of a person who knew all along. At the same time I was so angry and scared I got up in the middle of the scan and just ran home. I know I should have gone there with someone. My brilliant friend offered but for some reason I wanted to go alone. Maybe I just didn't want to share this experience with anyone else. Maybe I didn't want anyone to know in case I would decide to rubber out that outline. At first I decided not to tell you because I knew how insecure, paranoid and hysterical you were before. And why telling you anyway? Maybe I just didn't want it after all. It's difficult to go for an abortion when you are 26, with an alright job where you are surrounded by children and you can feel they adore you. I know that we weren't in a 'proper relationship' but what is the proper relationship? Nobody knows how long relationships last... And should all kids really be wanted? I've learned enough so far to know that some of the most wanted things turn out to be nothing but disappointing.
I truly do believe in abortions and in women rights to decide whatever they want but I wasn't really sure about my decision. I knew that tragedies and disasters could become blessings and nothing unplanned killed people. At the same time I was pretty much decided on the abortion just because I felt like I owned it to myself to feel more ready and confident about having kids. So why should I tell you then?
The problem was that we worked together and had to see each other everyday. I couldn't look at your eyes and just pretend everything was ok. Not because I was bad at lying. On the contrary but I felt like this lie was not entirely just mine.
It was the last week before Christmas holidays and I told you... Text you drunk that it was actually happening. You said you didn't want it to be happening and that you needed proof after all the negative results you witnessed. Of course I was hurt...so very much. You didn't trust me as if I was a fucking freak making this shit up! Of course Marc, because every single pretty 26 year old wants to be knocked up by a 29 year old hysterical and insecure dick like you are! I tried to suppress hate, rage and hurt by thinking rationally and admitting that yeah it looked a little weird...
I mean the blood test was negative and you witnessed it and I was just this girl who kept going on about being pregnant. But you know Marc, no! Despite everything, despite the shit blood test which btw can be wrong, I'm not the first fucking case in the history, I should have never tried to justify you doubting me! But anyway I tried to go to my gynaecologist to get the scan photo, the paper saying I was pregnant despite the fact it was before Christmas and everyone was super busy and that everything takes ages in Spain and you need to wait and wait. I went through that stress even though I couldn't get anything that day and I told you, explained, apologised and promised to get it another day. I still see myself there, in that bar in front of the academy. Scared, confused and so broken and you looking down on me saying how suspicious it all seemed. Then all of the sudden you threatened me saying if I didn't give you an evidence you'd talk to a lawyer and our boss. I let you talk to me like that despite the fact I knew you had no right to do it because legally you had no right to the baby until it was actually born... I let you say all this malicious shit as my heart was evaporating. You'd think after knowing someone for a year and half you actually know that person a little and you could tell what he is capable of doing and I knew you weren't a brave person, Marc or a fighter or that empathetic but I swear I never thought you were capable of threatening a pregnant woman. Despite all that I went to work and taught for 6 hours while my heart was weeping and my uterus was screaming. After that I just ran home and cried myself to sleep. I woke up in the middle of the night in the puddle of blood. I was so weak and felt like I was dreaming but when I woke up the second time and blood was still there I went to the hospital. I miscarried. I spent 6 hours in the hospital among women who were about to give birth, bleeding the baby out, weak, scared and all by myself. While you, Marc texted me again and threatened me. The following day I went to work, aching and ready to run away. All those little kids smiling at me and hugging me... I bit my lips and begged my eyes to survive that day. Somehow I did. Nobody noticed anything. Sometimes I even tried to believe it was all a very bad dream... You just ignored me and couldn't even look at me.
At the end of the day our boss said you told him everything and that he wasn't sure he wanted me to come back after Christmas. I couldn't believe it. That's when the rage came. How dare you? What kind of a person tells such a personal thing to the boss? How could you say all that, that our relationship was very bad and not really knowing if we could work together after all this?! Really Marc? It was equally your fault. You knew exactly that he would fire me... not you because you've been with the academy for so long. And he did fire me... I wasn't surprised. I knew he was a proper dick and just cared about himself and his precious business. I wasn't that hurt because it wasn't personal. Although he fucked up and fired me in all possibly illegal ways he could. I got fired and you got what you wanted. You got rid of me and you continue working at the academy as if nothing happened and you are this amazing teacher who everyone likes.
So this is the fucking modern European reality. A woman gets fired over the miscarriage because of the actual father of the baby who just wanted to forget because he was too scared, weak and so fucking totally clueless and insecure that he didn't know how to deal with the situation. Well guess what, Marc? You are just a stupid fuck who doesn't even deserve to be called a man. You are not even human... I can't fucking sue you because I don't have any evidence. I can't kill you because I actually want to have a reasonably happy life. And as much as I dream of hurting you, ripping your face apart and breaking every single bone in your body, despite all the anger running trough my veins, I know that one day I will be happy and able to get through this.
The only thing that scares me to death is you having a daughter... No daughter should have a father like you... Who instead of putting a plaster on a cut spreads and infects the whole wound because he is scared and doesn't know how to apply the plaster.