I’m often asked what happened in my marriage, why it ended. The truth is, there is no single answer, no one isolated incident, as I’m sure is the case for most relationships reaching their tipping point.
What you’ve read from Veer’s birth up until now are just snapshot memories. As I mentioned previously, not much registered in my mind after Veer was born. I don’t know if it was because of the post-natal depression, the Prozac, all my childhood trauma finally catching up with me, or a combination.
All I know is that one minute I was okay and the next, my life had imploded, and nothing would ever be the same. It felt as if, out on a joyful walk one bright, sunny day, I stepped into a raging tornado, then was spat out, left gasping for air in its twisted wake.
And, yes, what you were thinking when you read the last chapter was right. Duh, stupid me. Obviously, in the end, I didn’t deal well with my husband sleeping with other people. Why did I think I’d be able to handle it? I couldn’t.
When Maanav first told me about it, I listened with acceptance because it had been my idea in the first place. Over time, it ate away at me. I’d be trying to go about my day, and all I could think of was him with other people. It made me feel ill, even though I had been close to doing the same. My castle of pretence was eroding, and with each brick that came down, I became more upset and more resentful.
I think I said it because I was desperate to save my marriage. I made myself into a martyr; ‘self-sacrifice’ for the man I loved. Who was I kidding? I was 17 when I got married, and I didn’t exactly have an idyllic example set for me by my parents. What did I know about making my marriage work? There was so much wrong with the whole thing, but I was too blind. I desperately needed therapy and help for my mental health and hormonal issues, and we definitely needed marital therapy. None of that happened.
Inevitably, soon enough, because of my state of mind, I felt as if everything and everyone around me was upsetting me. I wasn’t getting on well with my mother-in-law, so I thought my misery was her fault. I turned the blame on her. Sure, we weren’t close and didn’t talk much, but she didn’t deserve the blame I put on her.
I kept pestering my husband with the idea of moving out of his parents’ home into our own. In my head, I thought we’d be happier if we had our own space. It never occurred to me that, with my mental health in the state it was in, I wouldn’t be happy anywhere until I sorted myself out.
Maanav and my in-laws miraculously agreed to my request to start house hunting. It meant I spent many hours every week talking to estate agents and viewing houses in the area. If I found one I liked, Maanav and sometimes his father would come with me for a second viewing.
I was so excited whenever I found a nice, suitable house. I imagined us living there, just me and Maanav with our Jai and Veer; our perfect little family, with no interference from anyone else.
But Maanav and my father-in-law, somehow, always found something not quite right with each house they came to view with me. This went on for some months. I didn’t get it then, but I was told later that they were humouring me, giving me something to do: anything to shut me up and keep me occupied. My father-in-law had no intention of allowing his son and grandsons to leave him.
If I left, however, perhaps that would be alright with him.
This was made clear to me when I was handed the blue folder.
Summer 2001
I’m handed a blue, plastic folder with my name on it. Inside are some sheets of paper with what looks like pages of notes and a chart of sorts.
Oh, I see! My in-laws got my astrology chart made up! I’ve never seen one of these before. I had no idea they were doing this. I guess they must have asked my parents for my time of birth.
Wait, why didn’t they ask me? Why didn’t they tell me they were doing it?
I’m not sure I believe in all this, but… oh well, let’s see what it says.
I’m shocked when I open it and read it. I feel like someone has trespassed on my innermost personal space.
Among the other things it says about me and my personality, the chart says my husband and I are not a match. I was never meant to get married! What the hell?
According to this, my marriage is destined to fail. Why are my in-laws giving this to me now? When I’ve just given them their second grandson?
I feel like I’ve been handed a death sentence. What do they expect me to do with this information? Do they want me out of the family? Are any of our daily pleasantries even genuine? What about the children? Do they not want the mother of their grandsons around anymore… at all?
When my father-in-law went into hospital to have his prostate removed because of a cancer scare, I wrote him a long, personal letter full of love. I’ve always held Papa in the highest esteem. He’s opened his home to me, and after a lifetime of trauma and uncertainty, he’s finally made me feel safe. I was so scared of losing him so in the letter, I told him how much I loved him. I told him that he was a father to me more than my own had ever been. I was an emotional wreck writing it. I wrote it with an outpour of sincere love.
…But now the same Papa hands me this? A blue plastic folder that tells me my marriage is destined to fail?
What am I supposed to do now?