I Feel Like A Prisoner In My Own Home

Mid adult woman sitting on the bed and suffering from a headache

Being married to someone who only feels that women should be relegated to the background in every decision taken around the home is one of the biggest challenges of my life. There is a big difference between being married and being happily married—both are far apart in terms of definition. My marriage to Demola falls in the latter category as happiness seems a rarity these days.
Demola is always in charge of my life and it just feels like I am a prisoner in my own home. He doesn’t allow me to go out when I feel like; I can’t chat or talk freely with my friends without having to fill in answers to series of questions and probing from my husband. How can a woman not have the liberty to have friends who she can visit? Demola is too protective because he feels that he owns the entirety of me.
The maids do almost everything at home, including going to the ATM machines to withdraw money for me; it is that bad. My stylist comes home to fix my hair and the only time I got out is when my parents send for me or when I sneak out when he has gone to work. What kind of love is this where a man feels that the only way to secure his wife is by restricting her movement?
My biggest mistake…
My biggest mistake in life was made when I decided to dump Nnamdi for Demola. Nnamdi loved me like no one else, and was ready to marry me for love. It’s an irony of life that we always make the wrong choice when there are obvious reasons not to do so. I knew Demola wasn’t the right person for me in terms of true love and happiness, but I chose the part of money instead of true love. My mother suffered in the hands of poverty, and I wasn’t going to allow that to be my lot.
I also didn’t marry Nnamdi because he was an Ibo man while I come from the South West. Though, my parents didn’t object to our relationship; my dad nursed this secret fear, which played a big role in my decision.
The first sign of abuse in my marriage came when Demola changed my mobile number and deleted all my friends’ contact numbers from my phone. I asked him why he had to do that, and he said: “old things have passed away…” However, when I asked him why he didn’t do the same thing to his phone numbers; he yelled at me and said “it’s a man’s world.” He quipped that a man can afford to say no and control his urges, but women can’t.
Demola has never beaten me or abused me physically since we got married; but he has threatened to do that several times. He gives me everything I want, but yet allows me to go out and mix with other women. This makes me feel like a slave in my own home; and I wonder if this is true marriage.


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