I was teaching in a private school when I met him. He had just completed college and was getting ready to serve the country. It was in the year 2020.

It was hard for me to accept him because I had sworn off men by the time he was chasing me, and I told him, “I have seen hell and felt my heart torn apart. I am not looking for any roundabout go-round. If you want something serious, fine. If not, then help me not to waste my time.”

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The earnings from my teaching did not do much, neither did his allowance from his service, but we both helped each other when it was needed. That was all the honesty I was looking for, and he gave it to me.

By and by, I saved up some money and got myself into nursing college. I fell pregnant after I completed nursing college. By then, he too had an appointment to work as a teacher, so it felt like things were falling into the right places.

He insisted I keep the pregnancy because he was ready to take it to the next step. He suggested that we wait for the baby to come so we could have both the naming ceremony and marriage ceremony at once.

In our case, I was the one jittery and afraid, looking at our situation. We were barely managing, and bringing a child into the mix right then felt like a lot. Moreover, my mom was a single mother, and I didn’t want to walk in her footsteps. I wanted to rewrite the story. I did not have a job.

He insisted and made the first move by bringing his parents to see my mother, claiming the pregnancy and promising marriage after I delivered.

I expected my mom to be angry about it. I was the child she had put her eyes on. Look at what I had just done. Thankfully, she didn’t make a big deal out of it and gave us her blessings.

He didn’t say anything concerning a naming ceremony after seven days. Not once, not even a month after.

Then his mother fell seriously ill. She had been ill before the pregnancy, but it worsened, and I made excuses for him. He was going to use the money to pay his mother’s bills. It would be inhumane of me to request a celebration when he was going through such a tough time.

I expected him to at least come home with his father, inform my mother properly about their situation and give reasons why he couldn’t marry now.

I am here, and I am afraid of going out there as a single mother. I’m afraid of being judged by society. I am afraid because I have wasted years on wrong men who treated me like trash despite how good I was to them.

He didn’t. Unfortunately, his mom didn’t make it. We went to pay our last respects to her, and still, our child is not named, and I don’t have a ring on my finger.

I’m turning 30 this year, and every time I remember that I was with the wrong person for seven years, it kills my soul.

He is already showing signs of a man who is satisfied with his food and just nibbling at it. The way he talks to me, answers my calls and looks at me. Yes, I know these signs, but here I am with my baby, not knowing how to overcome my fears and frustration and accept my reality.

Who Would You Choose, A Rich Man Or A Man Who’s Good In Bed?

If there’s anyone who has been here before, how did you survive the storm? That’s is all I need, a voice to cheer me on. To tell me I can have a life outside of him. How did you forgive yourself? How did you find happiness again?

— Mabel
Do you think I will someday be happy?
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