The most terrifying part about any relationship is finding out that you are not valued; that only a caricature of you is loved. Be that between sisters or friends, or between those that claim to love each other. When the relationship is seemingly perfect to the outside world, it’s easy to ignore that nagging voice in your head that says “There is something wrong. He doesn’t know you. He doesn’t love you.”
I fought of those little words for years and by the time I accepted them, my parents had put in close to $70,000.00 in deposits for my wedding. I had a ring on my finger. I had numerous dholkis, bachelorette parties and that specific day – I was sitting at my bridal shower watching women gush over the little gifts that had been bestowed upon me.
Ali and I had dated since freshman year of college. I fought for him in every way I knew how – argued with my parents until they gave in, alienated close friends who didn’t like him, made time for him even when I barely had time for myself. In turn Ali spoiled me with gifts. A Cartier clutch, a trip the spa and dinners at the Ritz. None of which I was used to, and none of which I ever asked for. It was my first relationship and I thought, “This is it. This is what it’s supposed to be like!” I knew that something was different between Ali and I when I saw my other friends in relationships. They saw each other as much as they could, while Ali and I saw each other once a week, maybe twice despite living on campus.
I brought up once that we didn’t see each other that much. He didn’t show up to my parents’ anniversary party. That incident started a week long fight where he told me, the first of many times, “You are never thankful for everything I give you. I do it all for you and you can’t appreciate it.”
My guilt and fear of losing him kept me quiet for the next several years. Those missed events became so frequent that no one even asked me anymore if Ali was going to be coming. I couldn’t remember the last time we had done anything together. We existed in separate worlds, which kept Ali content – as long as I arrived in his world when it was convenient for him.
Ali never learned to say thank you to any of the meticulous things I did for him. Instead, he saw them as “expected from good desi girls.” I treated his parents as my own, taking them for groceries and doctor’s visits even before we were married. I remembered the birthdays of all his friends and his family members and made sure a gift got to them in time, with a thoughtful card from Ali. I sent them one from me separately. To all of these things, he said, “Here’s a new pair of earrings.” Never a thank you, never an acknowledgment. Just a mindless gift that was supposed to represent that he remembered me.
That day at my bridal shower I thought, “When will it get to the point that even those presents will be bought by his assistant? When he won’t even know what he got me?” The question felt off kilter, it was wrong in every way – I was a bride-to-be. I shouldn’t ask those questions. But years of uncertainty, buried deep in the hollows of my subconscious, would no longer stay quiet.
I went home that day and called Ali and told him I really needed to see him and that I wanted him to come to my place. His words stung more than usual, “Yah babe, I’m hanging out with the guys, why don’t you come here?” I took a deep breath and instead saying that I would be on my way – I finally said, “Because you have a car and it will take you thirty minutes. I will have to take the train, switch three times and it will take me an hour.”
He didn’t notice that I was upset, or perhaps he didn’t care – to this day, I’m really unsure. All he said was, “Well, can I see you later then?”
I knew at that moment that this wasn’t the type of relationship I wanted to be in for the rest of my life. I didn’t want someone who always put his wants before my needs and didn’t even know when I was upset. It was an “Aha!” moment where I felt a sense of liberation while also feeling like my body had just been slammed into a brick wall. It was at that moment that I knew it was over, that had never really been there to begin with. We had both loved ideas of each other, instead actually ever loving each other.
When I broke the news to my family and friends, I felt a rush of relief. I knew that I had done the right thing. My friends were all supportive.
My father balked and told me that I was embarrassing the entire family and that marrying Ali had been my choice and I had to go through with it. My mother didn’t speak to me for a day and then told me that I had made a smart decision, she just wished she didn’t have to call all the wedding guests to tell them the wedding was off. My siblings stood by me without question telling that this was my life and if I knew that it wasn’t the right decision then it’s better to end things now than after I was married. It was about six months of trauma, questions, painful remarks from family members and friends – but I got through it.
It’s been four years since that day and sometimes I sit back and wonder what my life would have been like had I married Ali. The only conclusion I come to each time is, had I married Ali I would never had met my current husband, and that is one thing I would never willingly give up.
– Shayna Alam
