Back in my final year of graduation, I started dating a guy who was two years my junior. I met him through common friends and we got along well, we liked the same soaps on TV and also had similar tastes in music. Everything seemed rosy at first. When we first started dating, he seemed a little too sweet at times but I didn’t pay much heed to it, considering the fact that he was probably not that mature in every respect. Little did I know that this would soon turn into a nightmare for me. After a few good months of getting to know each other (or so I thought), I started to realise that this guy could behave like a maniac at the slightest provocation. One particular incident that I can recall is that he once stormed out in the middle of a date because I happened to meet a senior in the café we were sitting in and the senior had complimented me. He later apologised and I passed it off as a childish outburst. I had no idea that the insecurity and extreme possessiveness would soon take over the entire relationship.
People say a little possessiveness in a relationship is good, but I faced the darker, vicious and abominable side of it. What started off with a tiff over some social media comments on my picture soon blew up into a massive argument. The argument ended in a mutual decision of taking a break and both of us working on our shortcomings. I thought things would go back to being normal soon. They didn’t. My ex threatened me with leaking pictures of our intimate moments on the Internet. He also claimed that the only thing which would stop him from doing so was if I visited him regularly for sex. He told me that he wanted more of that “bombs hell body”. He told me a woman like me who talked to a lot of guys (all of who were my friends, seniors and had known me for years) deserved to be taught a lesson.
The lesson was to strip me of my dignity by ‘exposing’ me to the world and by raping me, at his will. He said he’d continue raping me till he had had his fill and felt that the punishment for my ‘sin’ was enough. He did all of this despite knowing of my history of a troubled relationship with a person who ended up hitting me. I was scared. I could not think what my parents would go through if they found out. I thought the only way out was to listen to him. To bear getting raped. After a nerve-wrecking period of time, I finally stood up to him. I refused to accept his ‘offer’. But this episode makes me question myself. How could I have even thought of giving in to his demand? Because I wanted to save my dignity? Because I was helpless? Was this the result of putting my trust in the wrong person?
I’m yet to find all the answers. All I know is, being an independent woman in today’s world is going to result in being called a ‘slut’, a ‘whore’. But we have to fight on and not accept abuse in order to try and save ourselves from public humiliation. I was about to commit the same mistake. I hope my story helps other people realise that giving in to fear is not an option, fighting back is!