Thank You

Mango Chutney

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I wanted to let the contributors here know this site was extremely helpful to me. I studied many threads and stories of victims during a marriage to a Tunisian man (one who was very good at concealing important cultural, religious, and other information). It was ONLY because of this site I was able to put the pieces of behavior and circumstances together, and cancel a pending immigration petition while living in Tunisia. I was also able to inform the handling government agency that I suspect my husband married me for immigration purposes.

The information here, while shocking and extremely sad and painful to read, helped me cope DURING my first year of marriage, rather than years in the future. Knowing the ultimate goal and outcome of "the game" was exactly the truth I needed to move forward.

It's sad to see so women sacrificed to fraud and violence like this. But, I'm hopeful many good men and women will continue to fight against it through distributing information online. Your site does a great job of helping to create a safer future for women. So, thank you.
What a great post! How comforting for us to know that our time and effort here does pay off.
Thank you, Jisela....and welcome to the forum. Here's wishing you a happy, rat free future :love:
 

Mango Chutney

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Not yet, but I have everything planned all the way to "Plan Z". I just sent the necessary letter to cancel the immigration process, and my husband is already trying to figure a way around it (for instance, claiming someone else fraudulently sent the request - these people are really sociopaths). But, I waited until another fight where I have to be the "bad woman" role and his anger was peaked, to initiate it; therefore, I could sort of say it was because of the anger/fight. Again, thanks to this site, I had everything ready and planned for a while. Once you see the whole game, it's impossible to be blind to how it works.

I'm waiting now until he gets to the point where he completely realizes immigration is destroyed, and his anger starts to peak up and disrupt our daily lives. I'm betting he will either encourage me to visit my home country, or work there, or simply get lost (in some twisted logic), and I will leave. I'll be ready, maybe even for a short vacation, before going home. It won't be long. These guys don't have great patience or attention spans.
Be really careful!! These rats are unpredictable when confronted...I speak from experience. They get violent.
You are still living in the same house, even though he knows you've cancelled the immigration process?
They have zero patience and attention spans. What they do have is vicious tempers and spiteful mouths.
 

Mango Chutney

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Thank you, Mango. I will be really careful. The vicious temper and spiteful mouth doesn't bother me, anymore. I realize he just will never see me as a human being (I doubt he has that capacity for Tunisian women, either). It used to leave me sick for days, but I'm numb to it now understanding he just completely lacks depth - he just doesn't have the programming to respect and love women.

My rat needs to be in control, so that's why it's good to wait just a little more. If and when he can end the marriage on his terms, that will be best, and I'm ready! If not, of course, my next option is just to leave fast and without notice. Again, I'm giving it a little time, because my rat is good at destroying marriage; you just have to stand back and watch (maybe eat popcorn).
They all want to be in control :rolleyes: Control freaks like no other....but what reeeeeally gets to them, what they really hate.....is when control gets taken away from them, they are powerless to help themselves, they can't dig a way out.

Use your strength, stand your ground...take control yourself...he is a nothing, a nobody....don't let him continue to have such power over you.
Remember....he needs you more than you need him....I had this drummed into my head by a friend...and she was right :thumbsup:
 

Mango Chutney

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You're right. But, I have to admit it has been really therapeutic to watch him destroy the marriage and seek his own plans for money and opportunity, and to sit back and let it happen. Just watch. It gave me a lot of time to sort of mourn the loss of who I thought he was, and what I hoped our marriage would be. I know it's much healthier to get out the door, and I know it's important to take control. It's just that I know the time is close, and these will be the last few moments of the "lie". I'm trying to make my peace with it before it's finally over, I guess. Again, I'm estimating another week or two, tops.
You will never get closure from a rat. Just stay safe whilst you try to find your peace, though in truth....you will only find that once it's over.
 

Mango Chutney

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I know I'll feel a lot better on the plane. I will update you here, maybe with a photo from the airplane, on the way out of Tunisia. Again, I really thank everyone here. Such painful stories really helped me understand the complete cruelty here. I'm so thankful I only lost a year to this and not more. It could have been ten years more, with immigration and mistresses. I am so thankful I didn't have to suffer that kind of "closure". :oops:
Now there's a photo I look forward to seeing!! :love:
Just keep yourself safe from harm....if I'd taken one of those airplane pics, the world would have seen I was bruised from shoulder to toe and with a broken foot....I was completely battered, physically and mentally, but damn, even in agony....that freedom felt sooooooo good :)
And you're welcome...it's a huge comfort to know what we do here can get positive results.
 

Laura2014

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I was about to say; is there someone there you can trust if you need to leave quickly? Please don’t underestimate what they can do, families and friends stick together. Don’t trust any member of his family or his friends. Keep your passport very close to you.
 

Amira

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No by all means do not trust anyone there. As long as you do not know Tunisia's rules or you can lock the language, you would not have contacted either your lawyer or your ambassador because it is too dangerous. You are in a dangerous situation. Hope you have a buffer that you can buy a ticket without knowing about it. But do not trust anyone if you have any common friends so keep them outside.
 

Masha

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Sep 12, 2016
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796
I know I'll feel a lot better on the plane. I will update you here, maybe with a photo from the airplane, on the way out of Tunisia. Again, I really thank everyone here. Such painful stories really helped me understand the complete cruelty here. I'm so thankful I only lost a year to this and not more. It could have been ten years more, with immigration and mistresses. I am so thankful I didn't have to suffer that kind of "closure". :oops:
Jisela pls get on that plane asap and never look back. Run run as fast as you can or he will catch you , the bad Tunisian man !
 

Judithlyn

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PLEASE get out of there ASAP! The leaving time is the most dangerous! When he is away, eating Ma’s Cooking, hail a taxi, and GO! Don’t risk your health or your life! Get to the airport and never look back! Their tempers are violent and can erupt in a flash! Please please be careful!!!! Do not confront him! Let him falsely win arguments until you are safely out of Tunisia! Take care of YOU!!!!
 

Judithlyn

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No, this was his first marriage recorded on his birth certificate in Tunisia. But, whether or not there is a woman waiting in the family somewhere, or something prearranged at youth, I'm sure I'll never know until later. I'm just the first wife :)
How old are they when the “arranged marriages” to cousins happen? Why does any cousin want a used up piece of meat? Weird, isn’t it???
 

Amira

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How old are they when the “arranged marriages” to cousins happen? Why does any cousin want a used up piece of meat? Weird, isn’t it???
After what I have heard they are very young when these arranged marriages are agreed. It seems disgusting that arranged marriage still exists in 2018 poor young girls who are getting married and must accept everything they have no rights cruelly
 

Heidi

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After what I have heard they are very young when these arranged marriages are agreed. It seems disgusting that arranged marriage still exists in 2018 poor young girls who are getting married and must accept everything they have no rights cruelly

"Forced marriages" are forbidden by law in Tunisia, but a large portion of marriages are "arranged" marriages, in which the families strongly suggest the future partners to their children, and the most desired partners often being cousins.

And even though this form of marriage is declining in Tunisia and some children even strictly refuse them, the verdict of the family in Tunisia has a very high importance for the choice of spouses.

The main purpose of marriage is the production and raising of children (and the prevention of non-marital sexual intercourse), thus enlarging the family community and maintaining the modesty of the society. A marriage is , in Tunisia, also the only legal and socially accepted option for two people to be together with a non-related person of the opposite sex.

https://www.tunispro.net/tunisia/marriage-in-tunisia.htm
 

Amira

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Hard to understand their thinking. Why mothers want to marry their children even if they are honored they can not have feelings for their children. All parents want their children to have a good life but in their culture, the girl will accept everything if she does not act like her husband will then she will almost be killed and she will sound both he and his family do not have their opinions what should life is
 

Amira

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Messages
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"Forced marriages" are forbidden by law in Tunisia, but a large portion of marriages are "arranged" marriages, in which the families strongly suggest the future partners to their children, and the most desired partners often being cousins.

And even though this form of marriage is declining in Tunisia and some children even strictly refuse them, the verdict of the family in Tunisia has a very high importance for the choice of spouses.

The main purpose of marriage is the production and raising of children (and the prevention of non-marital sexual intercourse), thus enlarging the family community and maintaining the modesty of the society. A marriage is , in Tunisia, also the only legal and socially accepted option for two people to be together with a non-related person of the opposite sex.

https://www.tunispro.net/tunisia/marriage-in-tunisia.htm
I think that much goes under the table in Tunisia. (that they do not follow the law in much) do as they please so long they get good Money for the girl
 

Mango Chutney

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View attachment 57538

Everyone closing out their stories made me look back on this thread. And, it makes me sad. It’s true, I was brave, controlled and strategic, but deep down I wanted to believe there was the smallest bit possibility that I was wrong about him. All that pain and love stayed hidden, like a frightened kid under the bed in a small space you would never find.

He didn’t know, but I wanted to have a different kind of wedding. One that wasn’t fast, forced or shameful. But because I felt so pressured and paralyzed in fear, I conceded on everything... as we walked over dusty rocks to the city hall.

I wore black because it was rushed and accessible, instead of white which is what I secretly would have preferred.

I would have really wanted a few friends and family in a church setting, instead I didn’t know the witnesses as they stood next to me and recited a verse of the Quran I couldn’t understand. They were just random men. The authorities showed me where to sign.

If I had the time to think, to reflect, and to stop safely for just a few days, I would have fought harder to wear white on my wedding day, and realize the man I wanted to marry was not like him — this stubborn and shocking force, always pushing me through, down, up and forward, as a mockery, keeping me in fear of speaking up for myself; an illusion of someone I thought was real. A man that never let me focus on real facts, you know important ones, like the ones that should exist between a husband and wife.

If I had the opportunity to run, to extricate myself completely, without fear; if I had been allowed more time to think and organize it, I would have realized I wanted a man who felt as I felt, believed as I believed, and fought for the same things. I would have never placed myself in the same bed as an angry and deceptive Tunisian man just looking for the best opportunity to build himself.

If I had been able to stop for more time, if I was given honest answers, if I had an exit, any safe safe exit, I would have stopped everything before we even signed our names on the same document.

When I trace all of it further back, even from arrival, flying in at night, the lights below were orange and looked like wildfire. They looked ominous and felt dangerous.

In the first few moments after touchdown and exiting the plane, the moment I met him, I knew without knowing, that everything was wrong. My instincts were screaming. But, I was locked in and the gates of time closed behind me.

Tunisia was not a vacation destination or a resting spot for me. It was a fight for survival, a fight to keep myself intact, a fight between my instincts, my mind, and my hijacked heart, against him.

I had to dig deep into knowledge and education around me to fight for myself, while trying to keep control, please him and them, and learn customs of a new, strange country filled my historical, national and religious enemies. Thankfully, I held firmly together at the very seams, as I found everything I needed to find while he slept; while he was away, and when he returned to con me, alternating between feigned emotions, fear, vulnerability, illness, and explosive anger.

Figuring him out, research, and looking deeper — that part of myself, came from being street smart. People like me know the bad parts of life. You learn not to trust first impressions or anything too fast. And, those survival instincts did ultimately spare me bigger things... like finding out my husband left me for another woman when I would be — maybe pregnant some years ahead, maybe without a child at all, maybe in debt, in stress, fear, or older age. It spared my country’s future and safety, and bigger pain for my family in their older age. It spared my faith in God. And, more lost time. But, it did not spare me everything.

I lost all my of beautiful and innocent illusions of him. The sad ripping away of someone I thought I knew. I didn’t enjoy that daily greif by the Mediterranean; the heavy trips or any of the stressed, somber and forced adventures.

I lost the love I held a very small hope for... inside that hiding place. And, that sensitive spot was destroyed by a brutal and terrorizing education of Tunisia; of how it works in a broken, patriarchal country — in the third world. I learned things that many people could not handle knowing, at all.

In lost other illusions, too. In exchange for two years of a fraudulent love, I lost my trust of being safe, and instead learned what it was like to be a minority and exploitable.

I learned about the poor, crime, the worst of mankind, about prostitution, lies, politics, revolution, racism, sexism, war and a strange consumerism that keeps people drinking and clubbing while their lives are totally wrecked.

I learned about persecution. I learned about privacy walls, and how Islam works in practice. I learned about strict traditions, and about people who break all the rules.

I learned about religious anger and identity, as a Christian, inside the lion’s den. And, while going through all of this, I lost a good chunk of my sanity.

If my rat had cared at all about me as a unique and sacred human being, if he had spent any time searching like I did, about me, none of this would have ever happened. And, if it had happened, in spite of it all, he would have known I wanted a white wedding in a church; that I wanted simple wedding bands, and families brought together.

I wanted to be in love, real love, protected, honored, and of course all the blessings of starting a life together... but none of that ever happened. Instead, I got used, abused, and a fast divorce from a Tunisian rat.

All those beautiful places you see advertised, the scenic places? All the experiences of being there for me, all the days and nights where I tried to let myself love and openly experience the things around me with him, in Tunisia gave me huge torment, as time and truth rushed by in a blur, and moments were poisoned by big reveals and discoveries of prostitution, Bezness, fury and entitlement, self-righteousness, and the fleeting but potent deceptions and charms of a well-trained Tunisian rat.

Close to two years of time was poisoned, and at the end, by an attempt to rob me of every sacred thing in my life, including my fertility, my literal body’s capacity to produce children, and my deep faith, for a man's fast exit from Tunisia — simply economic opportunity for a man I never really knew — for an angry Tunisian man’s religious and economic conquest, and visa paperwork to North America.

I spun through all of that so fast. I apologize because it’s strange to write and even stranger to look back. In fact, it’s just like when I was there; a surreal and ominously-looking country that appears different at every juncture, because it happened so fast and there was never any time to understand until it was over.

In closing, if you really want to know why it’s sad for me now, is that although I’m blessed because I escaped without greater losses — in these final weeks of being married fast, before a fast divorce, I never got so much a single bouquet of flowers from him on my wedding day. White ones, just like I love at weddings. Another detail he never cared about. So, I want to put them here.

I was brave. I was strategic. I was wise and street smart. I was strong, and I was at times coldly calculated. And, I survived. But, moving forward, sadly, remorsefully and profoundly changed, white flowers are still important to me.
One day, Jisela, you will get your white flowers, your white dress, your church wedding.....you’ll be surrounded by your loved ones.....and you will have the right man by your side, a man that says his vows from the heart, a man that wants you for all the right reasons.

Never give up hope :love:
 

Judithlyn

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Joined
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Messages
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View attachment 57538

Everyone closing out their stories made me look back on this thread. And, it makes me sad. It’s true, I was brave, controlled and strategic, but deep down I wanted to believe there was the smallest bit possibility that I was wrong about him. All that pain and love stayed hidden, like a frightened kid under the bed in a small space you would never find.

He didn’t know, but I wanted to have a different kind of wedding. One that wasn’t fast, forced or shameful. But because I felt so pressured and paralyzed in fear, I conceded on everything... as we walked over dusty rocks to the city hall.

I wore black because it was rushed and accessible, instead of white which is what I secretly would have preferred.

I would have really wanted a few friends and family in a church setting, instead I didn’t know the witnesses as they stood next to me and recited a verse of the Quran I couldn’t understand. They were just random men. The authorities showed me where to sign.

If I had the time to think, to reflect, and to stop safely for just a few days, I would have fought harder to wear white on my wedding day, and realize the man I wanted to marry was not like him — this stubborn and shocking force, always pushing me through, down, up and forward, as a mockery, keeping me in fear of speaking up for myself; an illusion of someone I thought was real. A man that never let me focus on real facts, you know important ones, like the ones that should exist between a husband and wife.

If I had the opportunity to run, to extricate myself completely, without fear; if I had been allowed more time to think and organize it, I would have realized I wanted a man who felt as I felt, believed as I believed, and fought for the same things. I would have never placed myself in the same bed as an angry and deceptive Tunisian man just looking for the best opportunity to build himself.

If I had been able to stop for more time, if I was given honest answers, if I had an exit, any safe safe exit, I would have stopped everything before we even signed our names on the same document.

When I trace all of it further back, even from arrival, flying in at night, the lights below were orange and looked like wildfire. They looked ominous and felt dangerous.

In the first few moments after touchdown and exiting the plane, the moment I met him, I knew without knowing, that everything was wrong. My instincts were screaming. But, I was locked in and the gates of time closed behind me.

Tunisia was not a vacation destination or a resting spot for me. It was a fight for survival, a fight to keep myself intact, a fight between my instincts, my mind, and my hijacked heart, against him.

I had to dig deep into knowledge and education around me to fight for myself, while trying to keep control, please him and them, and learn customs of a new, strange country filled my historical, national and religious enemies. Thankfully, I held firmly together at the very seams, as I found everything I needed to find while he slept; while he was away, and when he returned to con me, alternating between feigned emotions, fear, vulnerability, illness, and explosive anger.

Figuring him out, research, and looking deeper — that part of myself, came from being street smart. People like me know the bad parts of life. You learn not to trust first impressions or anything too fast. And, those survival instincts did ultimately spare me bigger things... like finding out my husband left me for another woman when I would be — maybe pregnant some years ahead, maybe without a child at all, maybe in debt, in stress, fear, or older age. It spared my country’s future and safety, and bigger pain for my family in their older age. It spared my faith in God. And, more lost time. But, it did not spare me everything.

I lost all my of beautiful and innocent illusions of him. The sad ripping away of someone I thought I knew. I didn’t enjoy that daily greif by the Mediterranean; the heavy trips or any of the stressed, somber and forced adventures.

I lost the love I held a very small hope for... inside that hiding place. And, that sensitive spot was destroyed by a brutal and terrorizing education of Tunisia; of how it works in a broken, patriarchal country — in the third world. I learned things that many people could not handle knowing, at all.

In lost other illusions, too. In exchange for two years of a fraudulent love, I lost my trust of being safe, and instead learned what it was like to be a minority and exploitable.

I learned about the poor, crime, the worst of mankind, about prostitution, lies, politics, revolution, racism, sexism, war and a strange consumerism that keeps people drinking and clubbing while their lives are totally wrecked.

I learned about persecution. I learned about privacy walls, and how Islam works in practice. I learned about strict traditions, and about people who break all the rules.

I learned about religious anger and identity, as a Christian, inside the lion’s den. And, while going through all of this, I lost a good chunk of my sanity.

If my rat had cared at all about me as a unique and sacred human being, if he had spent any time searching like I did, about me, none of this would have ever happened. And, if it had happened, in spite of it all, he would have known I wanted a white wedding in a church; that I wanted simple wedding bands, and families brought together.

I wanted to be in love, real love, protected, honored, and of course all the blessings of starting a life together... but none of that ever happened. Instead, I got used, abused, and a fast divorce from a Tunisian rat.

All those beautiful places you see advertised, the scenic places? All the experiences of being there for me, all the days and nights where I tried to let myself love and openly experience the things around me with him, in Tunisia gave me huge torment, as time and truth rushed by in a blur, and moments were poisoned by big reveals and discoveries of prostitution, Bezness, fury and entitlement, self-righteousness, and the fleeting but potent deceptions and charms of a well-trained Tunisian rat.

Close to two years of time was poisoned, and at the end, by an attempt to rob me of every sacred thing in my life, including my fertility, my literal body’s capacity to produce children, and my deep faith, for a man's fast exit from Tunisia — simply economic opportunity for a man I never really knew — for an angry Tunisian man’s religious and economic conquest, and visa paperwork to North America.

I spun through all of that so fast. I apologize because it’s strange to write and even stranger to look back. In fact, it’s just like when I was there; a surreal and ominously-looking country that appears different at every juncture, because it happened so fast and there was never any time to understand until it was over.

In closing, if you really want to know why it’s sad for me now, is that although I’m blessed because I escaped without greater losses — in these final weeks of being married fast, before a fast divorce, I never got so much a single bouquet of flowers from him on my wedding day. White ones, just like I love at weddings. Another detail he never cared about. So, I want to put them here.

I was brave. I was strategic. I was wise and street smart. I was strong, and I was at times coldly calculated. And, I survived. But, moving forward, sadly, remorsefully and profoundly changed, white flowers are still important to me.
What beautiful writing! A tear wailed up in my eyes from reading it! It sounds to me like you are in the final phase of recovery from losing your heart, soul, mind, and body to one of these horrendous Tunisian rats. Yay! Woot woot! I thought that I would never survive what monster Abdelhak did to me. I stayed in the anger phase for many months. Finally, I got to the acceptance phase of the cruel actions done to me, the pain in my chest started letting up, and my head stopped thinking about him or wondering what he was doing. It looks like you are getting to this point! I’m so happy for you and for all of us survivors! Go out and buy yourself some beautiful white flowers, from you to you! It’s congratulating yourself for having survived an ordeal that people living in Western countries (also Eastern countries....Bezness does not happen in Japan or other Eastern countries either)...can not imagine! Victory!!!! Hugs, my friend!
 

Brasilgirl

Senior Rat Expert
Joined
Feb 28, 2018
Messages
2,826
View attachment 57538

Everyone closing out their stories made me look back on this thread. And, it makes me sad. It’s true, I was brave, controlled and strategic, but deep down I wanted to believe there was the smallest bit possibility that I was wrong about him. All that pain and love stayed hidden, like a frightened kid under the bed in a small space you would never find.

He didn’t know, but I wanted to have a different kind of wedding. One that wasn’t fast, forced or shameful. But because I felt so pressured and paralyzed in fear, I conceded on everything... as we walked over dusty rocks to the city hall.

I wore black because it was rushed and accessible, instead of white which is what I secretly would have preferred.

I would have really wanted a few friends and family in a church setting, instead I didn’t know the witnesses as they stood next to me and recited a verse of the Quran I couldn’t understand. They were just random men. The authorities showed me where to sign.

If I had the time to think, to reflect, and to stop safely for just a few days, I would have fought harder to wear white on my wedding day, and realize the man I wanted to marry was not like him — this stubborn and shocking force, always pushing me through, down, up and forward, as a mockery, keeping me in fear of speaking up for myself; an illusion of someone I thought was real. A man that never let me focus on real facts, you know important ones, like the ones that should exist between a husband and wife.

If I had the opportunity to run, to extricate myself completely, without fear; if I had been allowed more time to think and organize it, I would have realized I wanted a man who felt as I felt, believed as I believed, and fought for the same things. I would have never placed myself in the same bed as an angry and deceptive Tunisian man just looking for the best opportunity to build himself.

If I had been able to stop for more time, if I was given honest answers, if I had an exit, any safe safe exit, I would have stopped everything before we even signed our names on the same document.

When I trace all of it further back, even from arrival, flying in at night, the lights below were orange and looked like wildfire. They looked ominous and felt dangerous.

In the first few moments after touchdown and exiting the plane, the moment I met him, I knew without knowing, that everything was wrong. My instincts were screaming. But, I was locked in and the gates of time closed behind me.

Tunisia was not a vacation destination or a resting spot for me. It was a fight for survival, a fight to keep myself intact, a fight between my instincts, my mind, and my hijacked heart, against him.

I had to dig deep into knowledge and education around me to fight for myself, while trying to keep control, please him and them, and learn customs of a new, strange country filled my historical, national and religious enemies. Thankfully, I held firmly together at the very seams, as I found everything I needed to find while he slept; while he was away, and when he returned to con me, alternating between feigned emotions, fear, vulnerability, illness, and explosive anger.

Figuring him out, research, and looking deeper — that part of myself, came from being street smart. People like me know the bad parts of life. You learn not to trust first impressions or anything too fast. And, those survival instincts did ultimately spare me bigger things... like finding out my husband left me for another woman when I would be — maybe pregnant some years ahead, maybe without a child at all, maybe in debt, in stress, fear, or older age. It spared my country’s future and safety, and bigger pain for my family in their older age. It spared my faith in God. And, more lost time. But, it did not spare me everything.

I lost all my of beautiful and innocent illusions of him. The sad ripping away of someone I thought I knew. I didn’t enjoy that daily greif by the Mediterranean; the heavy trips or any of the stressed, somber and forced adventures.

I lost the love I held a very small hope for... inside that hiding place. And, that sensitive spot was destroyed by a brutal and terrorizing education of Tunisia; of how it works in a broken, patriarchal country — in the third world. I learned things that many people could not handle knowing, at all.

In lost other illusions, too. In exchange for two years of a fraudulent love, I lost my trust of being safe, and instead learned what it was like to be a minority and exploitable.

I learned about the poor, crime, the worst of mankind, about prostitution, lies, politics, revolution, racism, sexism, war and a strange consumerism that keeps people drinking and clubbing while their lives are totally wrecked.

I learned about persecution. I learned about privacy walls, and how Islam works in practice. I learned about strict traditions, and about people who break all the rules.

I learned about religious anger and identity, as a Christian, inside the lion’s den. And, while going through all of this, I lost a good chunk of my sanity.

If my rat had cared at all about me as a unique and sacred human being, if he had spent any time searching like I did, about me, none of this would have ever happened. And, if it had happened, in spite of it all, he would have known I wanted a white wedding in a church; that I wanted simple wedding bands, and families brought together.

I wanted to be in love, real love, protected, honored, and of course all the blessings of starting a life together... but none of that ever happened. Instead, I got used, abused, and a fast divorce from a Tunisian rat.

All those beautiful places you see advertised, the scenic places? All the experiences of being there for me, all the days and nights where I tried to let myself love and openly experience the things around me with him, in Tunisia gave me huge torment, as time and truth rushed by in a blur, and moments were poisoned by big reveals and discoveries of prostitution, Bezness, fury and entitlement, self-righteousness, and the fleeting but potent deceptions and charms of a well-trained Tunisian rat.

Close to two years of time was poisoned, and at the end, by an attempt to rob me of every sacred thing in my life, including my fertility, my literal body’s capacity to produce children, and my deep faith, for a man's fast exit from Tunisia — simply economic opportunity for a man I never really knew — for an angry Tunisian man’s religious and economic conquest, and visa paperwork to North America.

I spun through all of that so fast. I apologize because it’s strange to write and even stranger to look back. In fact, it’s just like when I was there; a surreal and ominously-looking country that appears different at every juncture, because it happened so fast and there was never any time to understand until it was over.

In closing, if you really want to know why it’s sad for me now, is that although I’m blessed because I escaped without greater losses — in these final weeks of being married fast, before a fast divorce, I never got so much a single bouquet of flowers from him on my wedding day. White ones, just like I love at weddings. Another detail he never cared about. So, I want to put them here.

I was brave. I was strategic. I was wise and street smart. I was strong, and I was at times coldly calculated. And, I survived. But, moving forward, sadly, remorsefully and profoundly changed, white flowers are still important to me.
I think that all those things special to you to make up your special day didn’t happen so you can have them in the special day that was meant to be. You marriage to the rat turned out not to be the special marriage for you to remember fondly. You are a survivor. You are a very strong woman. I noticed that from your first posts. I’m not going to say you will get your dream wedding, because I don’t know that, but you still have lots of time to meet the right man. Everything in our lives changes us a bit. You are a bit different now. What you look for in a man is going to be a bit different too. In some cases, after the rat, some victims find the perfect man is right in front of them. Who knows for you?
You’ll have to see, when all the dust settles in your heart.
 

juicyfruit

Junior Rat Expert
Joined
May 10, 2017
Messages
1,017
View attachment 57538

Everyone closing out their stories made me look back on this thread. And, it makes me sad. It’s true, I was brave, controlled and strategic, but deep down I wanted to believe there was the smallest bit possibility that I was wrong about him. All that pain and love stayed hidden, like a frightened kid under the bed in a small space you would never find.

He didn’t know, but I wanted to have a different kind of wedding. One that wasn’t fast, forced or shameful. But because I felt so pressured and paralyzed in fear, I conceded on everything... as we walked over dusty rocks to the city hall.

I wore black because it was rushed and accessible, instead of white which is what I secretly would have preferred.

I would have really wanted a few friends and family in a church setting, instead I didn’t know the witnesses as they stood next to me and recited a verse of the Quran I couldn’t understand. They were just random men. The authorities showed me where to sign.

If I had the time to think, to reflect, and to stop safely for just a few days, I would have fought harder to wear white on my wedding day, and realize the man I wanted to marry was not like him — this stubborn and shocking force, always pushing me through, down, up and forward, as a mockery, keeping me in fear of speaking up for myself; an illusion of someone I thought was real. A man that never let me focus on real facts, you know important ones, like the ones that should exist between a husband and wife.

If I had the opportunity to run, to extricate myself completely, without fear; if I had been allowed more time to think and organize it, I would have realized I wanted a man who felt as I felt, believed as I believed, and fought for the same things. I would have never placed myself in the same bed as an angry and deceptive Tunisian man just looking for the best opportunity to build himself.

If I had been able to stop for more time, if I was given honest answers, if I had an exit, any safe safe exit, I would have stopped everything before we even signed our names on the same document.

When I trace all of it further back, even from arrival, flying in at night, the lights below were orange and looked like wildfire. They looked ominous and felt dangerous.

In the first few moments after touchdown and exiting the plane, the moment I met him, I knew without knowing, that everything was wrong. My instincts were screaming. But, I was locked in and the gates of time closed behind me.

Tunisia was not a vacation destination or a resting spot for me. It was a fight for survival, a fight to keep myself intact, a fight between my instincts, my mind, and my hijacked heart, against him.

I had to dig deep into knowledge and education around me to fight for myself, while trying to keep control, please him and them, and learn customs of a new, strange country filled my historical, national and religious enemies. Thankfully, I held firmly together at the very seams, as I found everything I needed to find while he slept; while he was away, and when he returned to con me, alternating between feigned emotions, fear, vulnerability, illness, and explosive anger.

Figuring him out, research, and looking deeper — that part of myself, came from being street smart. People like me know the bad parts of life. You learn not to trust first impressions or anything too fast. And, those survival instincts did ultimately spare me bigger things... like finding out my husband left me for another woman when I would be — maybe pregnant some years ahead, maybe without a child at all, maybe in debt, in stress, fear, or older age. It spared my country’s future and safety, and bigger pain for my family in their older age. It spared my faith in God. And, more lost time. But, it did not spare me everything.

I lost all my of beautiful and innocent illusions of him. The sad ripping away of someone I thought I knew. I didn’t enjoy that daily greif by the Mediterranean; the heavy trips or any of the stressed, somber and forced adventures.

I lost the love I held a very small hope for... inside that hiding place. And, that sensitive spot was destroyed by a brutal and terrorizing education of Tunisia; of how it works in a broken, patriarchal country — in the third world. I learned things that many people could not handle knowing, at all.

In lost other illusions, too. In exchange for two years of a fraudulent love, I lost my trust of being safe, and instead learned what it was like to be a minority and exploitable.

I learned about the poor, crime, the worst of mankind, about prostitution, lies, politics, revolution, racism, sexism, war and a strange consumerism that keeps people drinking and clubbing while their lives are totally wrecked.

I learned about persecution. I learned about privacy walls, and how Islam works in practice. I learned about strict traditions, and about people who break all the rules.

I learned about religious anger and identity, as a Christian, inside the lion’s den. And, while going through all of this, I lost a good chunk of my sanity.

If my rat had cared at all about me as a unique and sacred human being, if he had spent any time searching like I did, about me, none of this would have ever happened. And, if it had happened, in spite of it all, he would have known I wanted a white wedding in a church; that I wanted simple wedding bands, and families brought together.

I wanted to be in love, real love, protected, honored, and of course all the blessings of starting a life together... but none of that ever happened. Instead, I got used, abused, and a fast divorce from a Tunisian rat.

All those beautiful places you see advertised, the scenic places? All the experiences of being there for me, all the days and nights where I tried to let myself love and openly experience the things around me with him, in Tunisia gave me huge torment, as time and truth rushed by in a blur, and moments were poisoned by big reveals and discoveries of prostitution, Bezness, fury and entitlement, self-righteousness, and the fleeting but potent deceptions and charms of a well-trained Tunisian rat.

Close to two years of time was poisoned, and at the end, by an attempt to rob me of every sacred thing in my life, including my fertility, my literal body’s capacity to produce children, and my deep faith, for a man's fast exit from Tunisia — simply economic opportunity for a man I never really knew — for an angry Tunisian man’s religious and economic conquest, and visa paperwork to North America.

I spun through all of that so fast. I apologize because it’s strange to write and even stranger to look back. In fact, it’s just like when I was there; a surreal and ominously-looking country that appears different at every juncture, because it happened so fast and there was never any time to understand until it was over.

In closing, if you really want to know why it’s sad for me now, is that although I’m blessed because I escaped without greater losses — in these final weeks of being married fast, before a fast divorce, I never got so much a single bouquet of flowers from him on my wedding day. White ones, just like I love at weddings. Another detail he never cared about. So, I want to put them here.

I was brave. I was strategic. I was wise and street smart. I was strong, and I was at times coldly calculated. And, I survived. But, moving forward, sadly, remorsefully and profoundly changed, white flowers are still important to me.
:Cry::Cry: I feel your pain...maybe one day I will put my story out here....thank you for sharing yours with me.:love:
 

Apples

Junior Rat Expert
Joined
Sep 30, 2018
Messages
1,188
One day, Jisela, you will get your white flowers, your white dress, your church wedding.....you’ll be surrounded by your loved ones.....and you will have the right man by your side, a man that says his vows from the heart, a man that wants you for all the right reasons.

Never give up hope :love:
Mango is right again! Jisela that blimey (I wrote blimey :D)deformed rat didn’t deserve you and you will have a beautiful real wedding with a normal person who will love,adore and treat you like the special lovely lady you are.
Until then you got us at TLR so you’re already in a relationship with us and we adore you :love::love:
 

Bostons

Inactive
Joined
Dec 29, 2016
Messages
1,114
View attachment 57538

Everyone closing out their stories made me look back on this thread. And, it makes me sad. It’s true, I was brave, controlled and strategic, but deep down I wanted to believe there was the smallest bit possibility that I was wrong about him. All that pain and love stayed hidden, like a frightened kid under the bed in a small space you would never find.

He didn’t know, but I wanted to have a different kind of wedding. One that wasn’t fast, forced or shameful. But because I felt so pressured and paralyzed in fear, I conceded on everything... as we walked over dusty rocks to the city hall.

I wore black because it was rushed and accessible, instead of white which is what I secretly would have preferred.

I would have really wanted a few friends and family in a church setting, instead I didn’t know the witnesses as they stood next to me and recited a verse of the Quran I couldn’t understand. They were just random men. The authorities showed me where to sign.

If I had the time to think, to reflect, and to stop safely for just a few days, I would have fought harder to wear white on my wedding day, and realize the man I wanted to marry was not like him — this stubborn and shocking force, always pushing me through, down, up and forward, as a mockery, keeping me in fear of speaking up for myself; an illusion of someone I thought was real. A man that never let me focus on real facts, you know important ones, like the ones that should exist between a husband and wife.

If I had the opportunity to run, to extricate myself completely, without fear; if I had been allowed more time to think and organize it, I would have realized I wanted a man who felt as I felt, believed as I believed, and fought for the same things. I would have never placed myself in the same bed as an angry and deceptive Tunisian man just looking for the best opportunity to build himself.

If I had been able to stop for more time, if I was given honest answers, if I had an exit, any safe exit, I would have stopped everything before we even signed our names on the same document.

When I trace all of it further back, even from arrival, flying in at night, the lights below were orange and looked like wildfire. They looked ominous and felt dangerous.

In the first few moments after touchdown and exiting the plane, the moment I met him, I knew without knowing, that everything was wrong. My instincts were screaming. But, I was locked in and the gates of time closed behind me.

Tunisia was not a vacation destination or a resting spot for me. It was a fight for survival, a fight to keep myself intact, a fight between my instincts, my mind, and my hijacked heart, against him.

I had to dig deep into knowledge and education around me to fight for myself, while trying to keep control, please him and them, and learn customs of a new, strange country filled by my historical, national and religious enemies. Thankfully, I held firmly together at the very seams, as I found everything I needed to find while he slept; while he was away, and when he returned to con me, alternating between feigned emotions, fear, vulnerability, illness, and explosive anger.

Figuring him out, research, and looking deeper — that part of myself, came from being street smart. People like me know the bad parts of life. You learn not to trust first impressions or anything too fast. And, those survival instincts did ultimately spare me bigger things... like finding out my husband left me for another woman when I would be — maybe pregnant some years ahead, maybe without a child at all, maybe in debt, in stress, fear, or older age. It spared my country’s future and safety, and bigger pain for my family in their older age. It spared my faith in God. And, more lost time. But, it did not spare me everything.

I lost all my of beautiful and innocent illusions of him. The sad ripping away of someone I thought I knew. I didn’t enjoy that daily greif by the Mediterranean; the heavy trips or any of the stressed, somber and forced adventures.

I lost the love I held a very small hope for... inside that hiding place. And, that sensitive spot was destroyed by a brutal and terrorizing education of Tunisia; of how it works in a broken, patriarchal country — in the third world. I learned things that many people could not handle knowing, at all.

In lost other illusions, too. In exchange for two years of a fraudulent love, I lost my trust of being safe, and instead learned what it was like to be a minority and exploitable.

I learned about the poor, crime, the worst of mankind, about prostitution, lies, politics, revolution, racism, sexism, war and a strange consumerism that keeps people drinking and clubbing while their lives are totally wrecked.

I learned about persecution. I learned about privacy walls, and how Islam works in practice. I learned about strict traditions, and about people who break all the rules.

I learned about religious anger and identity, as a Christian, inside the lion’s den. And, while going through all of this, I lost a good chunk of my sanity.

If my rat had cared at all about me as a unique and sacred human being, if he had spent any time searching like I did, about me, none of this would have ever happened. And, if it had happened, in spite of it all, he would have known I wanted a white wedding in a church; that I wanted simple wedding bands, and families brought together.

I wanted to be in love, real love, protected, honored, and of course all the blessings of starting a life together... but none of that ever happened. Instead, I got used, abused, and a fast divorce from a Tunisian rat.

All those beautiful places you see advertised, the scenic places? All the experiences of being there for me, all the days and nights where I tried to let myself love and openly experience the things around me with him, in Tunisia gave me huge torment, as time and truth rushed by in a blur, and moments were poisoned by big reveals and discoveries of prostitution, Bezness, fury and entitlement, self-righteousness, and the fleeting but potent deceptions and charms of a well-trained Tunisian rat.

Close to two years of time was poisoned, and at the end, by an attempt to rob me of every sacred thing in my life, including my fertility, my literal body’s capacity to produce children, and my deep faith, for a man's fast exit from Tunisia — simply economic opportunity for a man I never really knew — for an angry Tunisian man’s religious and economic conquest, and visa paperwork to North America.

I spun through all of that so fast. I apologize because it’s strange to write and even stranger to look back. In fact, it’s just like when I was there; a surreal and ominously-looking country that appears different at every juncture, because it happened so fast and there was never any time to understand until it was over.

In closing, if you really want to know why it’s sad for me now, is that although I’m blessed because I escaped without greater losses — in these final weeks of being married fast, before a fast divorce, I never got so much a single bouquet of flowers from him on my wedding day. White ones, just like I love at weddings. Another detail he never cared about. So, I want to put them here.

I was brave. I was strategic. I was wise and street smart. I was strong, and I was at times coldly calculated. And, I survived. But, moving forward, sadly, remorsefully and profoundly changed, white flowers are still important to me.
Oh Jisela! This is heartbreaking to read in some ways but in others it shows your beauty and strength! Yes, one day you'll get that beautiful wedding with someone that adores you! You are amazing a tough! I adore you!
 
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