Thank You

Apples

Well-Known Member
Joined
Sep 30, 2018
Messages
1,162
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

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Joined
Dec 29, 2016
Messages
1,081
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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