Domestic Violence

I liked Abraham from the day we met at a party at a friend’s party. He was a very nice and smart chap and fairly well-to-do. We had a brief period for our romantic chats and meetings. We entered our married life despite some opposition from my mom, as she did not like his attitude.

After marriage, the functions were over, and we started settling down. We decided to postpone our honeymoon trip to Europe till he can get leave easily from his office. This proved to be absolutely false, as confirmed by his boss during a party given by office staff. The boss asked him, “Abraham, why did you not go for your honeymoon and cancel your leave?” I was shocked, but let it pass. I assumed that this might be due to a lack of resources at that time. He started joking and passing unwarranted remarks about me whenever we came across any of his friends or even acquaintances. I decided to confront him about this. He just laughed it off.

It was becoming too much for me to endure lightly, and I asked him directly, “What is happening, Abraham? Why did you mock me yesterday in front of a plethora of friends?” His reply was obnoxious and hurt me to the core of my soul. “Oh, do not take it seriously; it was just to lighten the ambience.”

Abraham did not stop at that, and his words were becoming knives, sharp enough to cut but leaving no blood. “There can be many other ways to enjoy yourself without being obnoxious about your wife or beloved.”

There was more to come. He tried to control finance. Moey, which I had brought from my mom’s house, started dwindling. The pay day came, and he waited for him to replenish and give money for running the household. Nothing of the sort happened. He gave me a little cash, just enough to run the kitchen, to give him food. I had no money to ease my living. Nothing for my personal expenses. I was feeling throttled. It is not that I wanted to spend a lot of money on myself or luxurious living, but I wanted to be free of such encumbrances. When I confronted him, his reply was very hurt: “I’ll handle the money.” You just focus on the house.” “But it’s our life, Abraham. Why can’t I decide?”

“Because you don’t understand responsibility.” This left me dumbfounded.

He saw me talking on the phone with my friends or my mom. He objected with very pungent words. “What is this? You are always talking to your mom or friends. All ladies have a lot of work in the household, but I always find you on the phone. Mother had warned me in very clear words: “I warned you, child. He wants you alone, only you, so you cannot see the truth.” Now I saw the truth in her words. He started objecting to even my talking to the female neighbours whom I used to meet while doing some small errands. One day, she came over for a cup of coffee after finishing her daily routine work. He created a scene at night when I told him about her visit and how nice and helpful good neighbours can be.” He told me to keep away from such people, as they can be very intrusive in our lives since we love each other. I was taken aback. This was really nerve-shattering. I felt like a bird in a gilded cage—beautiful from the outside, but unable to fly.

Then came the bolt from the blue when he said, taking control of the money. He was gentle while ushering such words: “I’ll handle the money. You just focus on the house.” “

I protested it’s our life, Abraham. Why can’t I decide?” “Because you don’t understand responsibility.

I protested, “I used to handle all my mom’s finances “

He said, “That is different, as we have to handle money with utmost care and responsibility, as we have to plan for our lives. “Anyway, he did not let go of financial control, leaving me hand-to-mouth. I request that my mum transfer some money. She reluctantly transferred some money, but with a warning: “Be careful, baby. He is using you for his carnal desires and sexual gratification while keeping control of financing.” Now I started getting the crux of the whole thing. My mom believed that I should leave him and return. I could not gather the guts to do so. Late at night, I confronted him. “Abraham, please transfer some money to my account, as I have to do some shopping for my personal requirements. ”Only the other day I gave you cash.”

“That was for household items, and it was barely enough for the same.”

“You have enough personal items; why do you want more? You look very charming in whatever you have or whatever you wear. You should be more responsible with money.”

You don’t understand responsibility. But what he called responsibility felt more like control. I tried to convince myself that things would change, that love could soften his sharp edges. Yet each day, the cage grew smaller and my voice fainter. I was torn between loyalty to my vows and the truth my mother had warned me about. The story of our marriage was no longer about romance—it was about survival.

The biggest jolt was when he asked me to stop ringing or calling my mom or friends. “Why are you on your phone all the time?”

That night, as I lay awake, I realised my mother’s words had been prophetic. I was living in a gilded cage, admired from the outside but suffocated within. Abraham’s control over money, friendships, and even my voice was not love—it was possession. I decided that my dignity mattered more than his dominance.

I felt like a bird in a gilded cage—beautiful from the outside, but unable to fly.

With confidence, I called my mother: “I can’t take it anymore.” With tears welling up and a grumpy voice

Mother was firm and advised, ‘Then don’t. You are stronger than you think. Do not let him use you and your body for personal gratification.”

Now I had fully understood is way of abusing me and my body. The decision was made. This is not love. This is abuse. I will not be his joke anymore.”

The next morning, I quietly packed my essentials and returned to my mother’s house. It was not an easy choice, but it was the only way to breathe freely again.

Domestic violence is not always loud—it can be dull, hidden in everyday cruelty. But even in silence, the heart can find its voice. And mine finally spoke: I deserve

Domestic violence isn’t limited to physical harm. It can also be emotional, psychological, financial, and even digital. Many stories focus only on bruises and physical scars, but the invisible wounds—like constant belittling, controlling behaviour, isolation from friends, or financial dependence—can be just as devastating.

• Emotional abuse: A character who is constantly criticised, manipulated, or made to feel worthless.
• Financial control: A partner who restricts access to money, making the victim dependent and powerless.
• Isolation: Cutting off connections with friends and family, leaving the victim without a support system.
• Gaslighting: Making the victim doubt their own memory, perception, or sanity.

Let us raise our voice. We are not objects or pieces of furniture to be used or misused as objects.

REFLECTION: Domestic violence thrives in silence, but your voice is powerful. By recognising the abuse, reconnecting with support, and reclaiming independence, you’ve already taken the most important steps.

Remember: you are not alone, and you deserve respect, freedom, and love that uplifts rather than diminishes. Reach out for help without delay and let emotions deter you from taking action.

Satpal Singh Johar

Email: satpalsingh 1944@yahoo.com / esspess@gmail.com  

Cell number: +919871286514

Website: pointblank0.com