If you make your bed, you lie in it, my parents used to say, growing up in a very traditional household with my father as the head and my mom, the caregiver. When I got married, I wanted more-I wanted some independence. My life took a turn when I discovered my marriage was a lie. In the midst of getting out, I was raped, got pregnant, and was trapped in the marriage. The situation got worse, and the battle to escape was a challenge that I do not wish on my worst enemy. Riddled with guilt of not wanting my son made me overcompensate for the injustice against this innocent child. I was determined to get out even if it meant I left the crime scene in a body bag.

I remarried a loving and amazing man, but my past was an invisible obstacle which made me angry and happy on the same day. My battle to survive against all odds came at a price-post-traumatic stress disorder-and many sessions with a psychologist and psychiatrist helping me to have a better relationship with my son and to get to know myself better with the goal to heal.