Sweetheart,

I have wrestled with this for the longest time, and to be honest, I don’t even know how to say this any more. The words have been buried inside me for almost 6 years now.

I know that January is a time for exciting new beginnings for most people. But for me, January is when I lost my identity, my sanity, 6 years ago.

What happened to me, should not happen to any woman in the world. I don’t know what to call that crime, even.  The psychological and emotional manipulation was so heavy, I didn’t know what was happening any more. I let them do whatever they wanted to do to me, and in the end, I was barely aware of being alive.

It took me several years and a lot of therapy to learn how to trust again. I met many great men along the way, but I failed to nurture any love inside me. I just couldn’t. I was just a broken clock that accidentally told the right time twice a day.

And when I was finally ready, I met you. And our love blossomed quietly, with the certitude of life that grows only on this planet.

In all my time with you, I have come to appreciate the fact that life is an incredibly strong force that takes a miracle to manifest in a universe that is designed to be random and chaotic.

I am truly privileged to share this life with you, but my love is not perfect. I am like an infant learning to walk. And every time I fall, imagine, that instead of being picked up by someone I recognize as family, I get picked up by strangers. It is terrifying.

Let me explain that haphazard metaphor to you-

As I learn to create and nurture this love, I stumble. I have the kind of beauty emerging from me that was hidden away all these years. I spent most of my 20s hiding in the dark, behind a facade that kept everyone at bay. It is difficult to re-emerge as the girl  I was before all this was lost.

That girl sometimes comes out like the sun on a monsoon day, only to attract all the attention she never wanted. Every time I have cried and blamed you for not paying attention, I have only done so because I ended up attracting unwanted attention from another man. And that scared me. 

And these men, they are not even nice or sensitive. They think it’s okay to escalate a casual compliment to an invitation for sex.

Remember my neighbour from the 7th floor who asked if he could kiss me in the elevator? It’s not just him. And it’s not even safe to be around married men any more, no matter how much older they are. I can’t be kind to a man anymore without him mistaking it for something else.

I’ve fought off this kind of evil before. But back then, I was tough. And now that I’m vulnerable with you, I don’t know how to be both ways at the same time.

I know you’re busy most of the time and I know it’s very important for you to do the work you do. You’re changing the world and I’m proud of you. But every time I get attention, and that’s from someone who is not you, it breaks me. It makes my skin crawl.

Since the time we started dating, I have put on at least 8 kgs of excess weight. I’ve quit my job and I don’t go out any more. You and I both know I’m getting help for my mental health but what you don’t know is that I’m afraid to be beautiful. It fills me with dread. And even as I write this, it’s making my chest clench up. I am short of breath. There is a block of ice sitting in my lungs. I am this close, this close to tears.

Please make this go away. Make me your wife, maybe? Make me boring so I can be lovely only to you. Make me untouchable to anyone else but you. Or make me strong, like only you know how to.

But hold my hand, always. I’m learning to walk and I don’t know where this begins or ends.

Love,

Your Bujji Talli.

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