I struggled through my childhood to find who I really was. I was the oldest of sixteen children. I learned as a young girl what it means that "Father Knows Best". I married the man my father saw as best. I learned to endure abuse and how to keep it secret from everyone or so I thought. My children were the ones that would not believe I had a legitimate reason for leaving when I did and it caused me great heartache.
Because I was a rebellious, strong-willed child, my father and I batted heads a lot. He would threaten reform school to me on many occasions. Being the oldest of sixteen children, I found many excuses to stay away from home. My father expected me to marry right after high school graduation, and he did not believe a girl needed an education or a drivers license. He decided he knew who was the best person for me to marry, the one that would be able to support me the best. Little did he know the tumultuous roller coaster ride I was going to have as far as lack of support financially, abuse: verbally, sexually and physically. The closed door syndrome was devasting. I found solace in my children and working outside the home. But the solace I found with my children was unknown to them. They saw me as angry and silent. I am still trying to repair the anger they saw; and now it has turned on to me from them.
Excerpt
"As much as I loved my father, I know that father doesn't always know best. How could he have known what was to lie behind closed doors in my future, all the lies that had been covered up and uncovered to be covered up again."
My memories as an immigrant professional woman in Ottawa, Canada 47 years ago. A new life after having survived the liberal war of a new country Bangladesh on December 16, 1971.
