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[OC] Holding Out for a Hero (part 1)

A Sheriff of Faerieland story.

She was zip-tying a leprechaun to the truck's luggage rack when she felt a familiar call from the High Queen's medallion.

The leprechaun was writhing in her grip, as anyone would when being forcibly attached to the roof of a 1978 Ford Bronco with nylon cable-ties. He would undoubtedly have been swearing up a storm and pronouncing terrible maledictions along with all the writhing, but the third thing she had done after finally catching the little bastard had been to apply some duct tape where it would do the most good. Good old duct tape -- even in Faerieland, that stuff had a thousand uses. The first thing she had done after catching him had been to zip-tie his hands and feet, because obviously. Second had been to punch him in the balls. Partly to subdue him, but mostly because leprechauns could be some rapey little turds.

The leprechaun gathered his bound legs and tried to kick her as she went to fasten down his feet. Had the blow landed, it probably would have hurt. The hard little leather shoes missed her nose by maybe an inch. She would have dodged the kick more easily, but that was right when the psychic prod from the medallion started, and that was always distracting. It was a weird, uneasy feeling. Not quite foreboding, but like that in its sense of wrongness. A feeling like just realizing that a critical task has been forgotten -- the patient is stitched up, but where are the forceps? Like remembering you left the stove on just as your flight takes off.

BJ Bellamy, unemployed mill-worker back in Mississippi and all-too-employed Keeper of the High Queen's Peace here in the Fae Realm, thought of that feeling as an 'oh shit!' of the soul. And it meant that there was more of the High Queen's work to be done.

She gave the leprechaun another nut-punch to settle him back down. No too hard, mind, as she didn't want to kill the little guy. That would mean getting yelled at by Her Majesty the Boss. "Quit that fussing, Eoghan," she said. "It's in your best interest to let me take you to Tir-na-Nog for judgment. You'll get less punishment from the High Queen for running those fake 'crock of gold' swindles than you would from that last batch of dwarves you pulled it on. Or from me if you keep pissing me off." A few more zip-ties had him secured enough that he shouldn't come off during the drive even if she scraped the roof on some low-hanging limbs. Which she was not at all tempted to do on purpose.

The leprechaun's tape-muffled mouthings in the meantime were probably not a teary-eyed apology for being a thieving dirtbag con-artist. Based on experience, they likely involved her body orifices, and a shillelagh, and how both would figure in his eventual revenge. Didn't matter. Leprechaun threats were about as substantive as their promises. And in the odd event that wasn't the case, it wasn't like the little fuckers were bulletproof.

Once behind the steering wheel, she took a moment to ponder the medallion's call. It felt... kind of north-ish? Northwest, maybe? Eh, she'd drive northwest and see how that felt. Whether it was the High Queen's magic in the medallion, or the nature of Faerieland itself, or whatever, it always seemed that if she drove in the direction of the problem, she would get there approximately when she was needed. Sometimes a little before trouble started, too often just a little too late to stop it, but still in time to punish whoever was responsible.

She looked out the window at the peaceful dell where she'd finally run the notorious Eoghan the Silver-Crimp to ground. The sky was an impossible lustrous blue, a blue that set the skies of Earth to shame. Trees whose leaves were emerald perfection. Flowers and shrubs in colors that would send Monet to the psych ward. Bells were tinkling, the sound of pixies returning to the air after hiding from the commotion. Really, the Fae Realm looked so much like the background of a Disney movie, you'd half-expect a musical number to break out at any second.

Bellamy sighed and put the truck in gear. Disney be damned. She was too big and ugly to be Cinderella. A '78 Bronco made for a crummy pumpkin coach. Her handsome prince had married TammyLee Watkins last month. And somewhere out in this idyllic Technicolor dreamland, there was murder going on.


If nothing else, at least this round of trouble was obvious.

North-northwest, sure enough. Through some more of the flower-carpeted oak woodlands that made up so much of the Realm. Into some heavier woods, then down one of those funky elvish forest roads that looked like a deer trail on crack and always seemed to take you way further than the time spent traveling it should have. The first time she'd ever driven one of those, she'd done it with the windows down. Not anymore. There were voices along the darkest parts of those roads, and the things they whispered were not meant for human ears. Then off that road at the first opening and onto an open, rolling heath dotted with scraggly conifers. A tower, not one of those phallic highfae ones with all the swoops and frills, but an older, coarser style, stood at the highest swell of ground. And she didn't really need the psychic nudging from the High Queen's medallion to tell her to head for that. The cage hanging from a tall gibbet in front of the place was reason aplenty.

She parked the Bronco while still some ways off and surveyed the place through binoculars. She always felt vaguely silly using them, what with the eyepatch and all, but it was what she had. Someone was in the cage, sure enough. Elf. Probably a highfae knight, if the head of golden-blond hair and the chainmail were anything to go by. Couldn't tell if he was dead or alive for a bit, but then he raised his head. Ah, he'd seen her truck and pulled himself up straighter. The tabard he wore over his armor was filthy and spattered with blood, but the symbol sewn on the front was still quite visible: silver oak leak entwined with a golden flame. That was a symbol Bellamy knew quite well. She ought to, since it was hanging from a chain around her neck.

She glassed the tower next. It had seen better days, that was for sure. The stonework was crumbling in a few places. There were no flags or pennons flying, and every asshole noble in the Fae Realm loved them some pennons. No chimney-smoke. No tended lawn or flowerbeds. No birds. No signs of life. The main door... shut? And surprisingly intact. The immediate area around the tower and gibbet was thick with low, dirty shrubs, with the occasional scattering of iron-red blossoms for color. Easy enough to drive over or through, and not substantial cover, but pretty good concealment for damn near anything capable of lying down.

Bellamy heaved a sigh. It was times like this, she wished she had some kind of military or police training. But that was for people who had both eyes, and for her to have kept both eyes past the age of ten would have also required her to have a different father, so... Anyway, she was sure the Navy SEALs or somebody would have a name for this kind of situation and some kind of set procedure for handling it. She didn't have that knowledge, but she certainly had enough brains to recognize a setup when she was staring right at it.

Time to think like a professional, then. If she assumed there was an enemy lying in wait, because duh, what advantages might they have? Numbers, almost certainly. Concealment. A fortified position, as long as they stayed in the tower. Magical bullshit faerie powers, of course. And what advantages did she have? A lever-action Marlin rifle full of .357 jacketed soft-points gave the edge in firepower against bows and slings... but numbers would neutralize that. As a human, she had a massive advantage in speed, strength, and durability over almost any fae ever born... but again, numbers mattered more. She had a steel-bodied four-wheel-drive with a big old battering ram of a brush guard on the front... Yeah.

She floored it.

The Bronco lurched ahead, crashing through the scrub and bouncing over the rolling terrain. Two hundred yards from the tower and nothing was happening. Hundred-and-fifty, still nothing. The bushes remained still. No response from the tower.

Movement caught her eye. The knight in the cage was gesturing frantically, making 'go back' motions, then pointing at a spot off toward her right. Moment of truth -- did she trust him or not? From what she had seen, he looked kind of cute under the crud and bruises, so... tentative yes? Eh, whether he was legit or not, she did trust Ford Motor Company. She swung the Bronco rightwards and aimed at the patch of crimson-flowered shrubs closest to where the knight was pointing.

As she crashed through, the Bronco's wheels rolled over something that crunched underneath. Two other somethings broke from the cover like birds flushed by a spaniel. They were short, about four feet. Bigger than a leprechaun, smaller than an elf. She had a fleeting impression of bulbous noses, spindly limbs, and barbed spears before one dove away to her blind side and the other bounced off her bumper and went under the right front wheel. Crunch again.

More of the creatures boiled out of concealment up ahead. Spears were waved and a couple were thrown, hitting nothing. Bellamy got a better look at them now. Thin little guys, greenish-tan colored, with big pointy ears and whiskers a-plenty. Their clothes were a mish-mash of types and conditions, but mostly ragged and too big for them. Hobgoblins, maybe? But hobs were a bunch of peaceful little domestic fae who farmed and brewed and scavenged broken things to mend and trade. Why would a bunch of hobs capture knights and set ambushes?

One was right in front of her, winding a sling to launch a rock. The Bronco's brush guard caught him before he could make his cast and down he went. His tasseled red hood dropped out of sight and that's when it clicked. Redcaps! Earth had terrorist murder-cults and the Manson Family, Faerieland had redcaps. Take a hobgoblin, give him the psyche of Jack the Ripper and the disposition of a broke meth addict, and have him form a tribe with a bunch of like-minded psychopaths. Inbreed for a few generations and boom, redcaps: the Fae Realm's most detested bandits and thrill-killers. Their custom was to soak their hats in the blood of their victims, giving them their name. Vicious, relentlessly murderous little fuckers. Thankfully rare, though she had an abundance of them at the moment.

That actually cheered Bellamy a little. Sure, they were death-crazed murder imps who would gleefully use her innards as a laundry tub, but at least the High Queen wouldn't yell at her for using 'disproportionate violence' against them. Being yelled at by Lonthanellia was just... the worst. It was like having a choir of angels sing a hymn about how much you suck.

Redcaps were popping up all around, now, the area around the gibbet positively infested with them. Quite a few had slings, but were having a hard time hitting a moving target, even an SUV-sized one. Most had spears, some of which were hurled, to no effect. Curses and imprecations were hurled in greater numbers, to no better effect. She ran down two more, one of them coming dangerously close to getting a good stab in through the front grille before he went down. That was a good way to get a punctured radiator, which would at very best mean walking home. Through Faerieland. Down that deep road with the whispering things. Not 'no', but 'hell no'. No more taking the spear guys head-on if she could avoid it.

A slinger dove away as she went to run him down. She swerved and ran over him anyway, but he'd gone into a deep rut and the left front wheel dropped into it, bringing the Bronco to an abrupt stop.

It was times like these that she was glad she always took a potty break before heading off on a mission.

The key was to stay on-task. Don't focus on the howling, foaming, homicidal maniacs closing in on you. Only a couple were immediate threats. Shift into reverse. Give it some gas. Don't want to spin the tires and get it stuck worse. Draw the backup revolver out of your pocket and give the truck more gas because you still aren't moving out of that rut.

A sling-stone chipped the passenger window glass. She took that as a message. It meant, 'hurry the hell up, BJ', although the sender probably meant it as more, 'I would very much enjoy smashing your head open'.

She turned to check her blind left side as the truck lurched and tried to jerk itself free. A redcap in what looked like a sylvan elf's hunting smock was running toward the driver's door, spear in both hands. They might not know what an automobile was or how car doors worked, but they could certainly see through the glass and know where the person driving it was. And with the wheel bottomed-out on that side, her window was low enough for the redcap to smash it and start jabbing through. She flung the door open. It hit the tip of the redcap's spear and knocked it aside. Two quick shots from the trusty snubnose magnum, fired across her lap, took the redcap center-mass and put him down hard.

Sling stones rattled off metal as she yanked the door closed. They were getting way too close now and it was time to floor it, because either the truck came unstuck now or it stopped mattering. The tires spun, spraying dirt. The one in the rut slipped nastily and spun as well, throwing out reddened mud and bits of flesh. A glance in the rearview mirror showed two redcaps had jumped onto the rear bumper and were trying to climb up to the roof. Bellamy had just about resolved herself to shooting at them through the back glass when the tires finally grabbed and the Bronco leaped backwards, free. The redcap boarding party was thrown off and both went under the wheels.

Time to head back into the open. Redcaps didn't seem like the types to stay under cover while there was prey and murder around them, so she had probably flushed out all there were, at least in the area near the knight's cage. She would head back out onto surer ground, back toward where she'd parked earlier. If the dozen surviving redcaps chased her, she'd double back and run them down out in the open. If they didn't chase, she'd park out of sling-distance, climb up on the roof with her rifle, and play sniper. A .357 levergun wasn't the most accurate thing at ranges longer than a football field, but she had a couple of dozen shells in her cargo pockets and a few boxes more under the truck seat. At a couple hundred yards, it might take a while, but it was doable. And if they retreated into the tower? She'd burn that bridge when she came to it. Since she had four jerry cans of gasoline, a propane torch, and a flare gun in the truck, she could burn quite a few things, come to that.

A look behind showed that they were following, after all. Surprisingly quickly for fae, too. Not nearly as quick as a Ford V-8, of course, but anything fleeing them on foot, including herself, would be hat-dye within seconds.

Once she had a good enough lead, she started turning around to get on with some more vehicular homicide. She was halfway turned when she noticed the wisp dropping out of the sky.

Wisps were a rare example of elvish magic that didn't require direct physical line-of-sight for the user. In appearance, a wisp was just a glint of light, a vague glimmering in the air that came from nothing at all. BJ was still unclear on whether wisps were actual spells, some sort of tame critter that elves could magically program, or something in between. The important thing was what they did. In a world without cell phones, how did people communicate at long distance? By messenger, mostly. But if you were an elf with magic to spare or money to burn and important things to talk about right freaking now, you sent out a wisp.

The wisp came down until it was bobbing in the air just in front of the charging redcaps, who all came to a stop as they reached it. It hovered there for a few seconds, then zipped toward Bellamy's truck. The redcaps stayed where they were, bunched together with weapons lowered and looking surly.

That was helpful. She had just gotten the Bronco turned and aimed at them and they still weren't running or splitting up.

The wisp came streaking straight at her windshield. It was a little unnerving, but wisps had no physical substance. One could pass right through you and you'd never know it.

"Stop, please!"

The voice caused her to stomp the brakes. Partly from surprise and reflex, but mostly because of whose voice it was.

A wisp, when used for communication, popped up a little 3-D projection of the person who was talking at each end, sort of like a magical Skype call crossed with that Princess Leia hologram from Star Wars. Right now, hanging beside her in the Bronco's cab, was the image of the most beautiful woman BJ Bellamy had ever seen. Her face was finely-molded elven perfection, with eyes the lambent blue of a highfae paragon, but framed with gently curling hair the color of dark caramel, showing some sylvan ancestry. Her voice was music, an angel's caress to the ears. Her gown was simple white silk, flattering yet unpretentious. In all, a femininity so perfect and sublime as to move a man to worship and a woman to abject surrender.

"Hey, Boss," Bellamy said, a little unevenly. "I'm, uh, kind of busy here."

submitted by Bloodytearsofrage to HFY

My Annulment Story

Asaalam Aalaikum Reddit’ers!
After some resistance I’ve finally decided to share my story, anonymously of course! Okay, so I’ll give you guys the short version of what happened cause the non redacted version is crazy long and honestly it’s something that I’ve worked real hard to forget and move past, I don’t care to undo that.
Early 2014 my parents started hardcore looking for rishtas since apparently I was reaching my brown expiration date at 24/25👵🏽 (and here we are now). My parents were keen on getting someone from Pakistan 🇵🇰 cause - for whatever reasons they believed that "good rishtas" can only come from back home, where the worlds pious, shareef and practicing population of men can be found. Now this was despite the fact that they themselves were married here and I was born here, in New York City. Go figure. I went along with it cause what else was I gonna do, ya know? I knew that marriage was in my near future and I knew that it would be through the traditional arranged methods. And it was the whole thing was through a rishta Aunty (matchmaker).
To clarify, it wasn’t a forced marriage, I did willingly agree to the marriage but things should have gone a little differently. I know my parents meant well, it may sound like I’m blaming them, but I most certainly am not. This was Alhamdullilah a learning experience it’s something that was meant to happen, and it’s actually something that’s led me closer to Allah SWT. I only truly understood that it really has been a blessing in disguise now, Alhamdullilah, years down the line.
So the proposal came around in February 2014. My parents talked to his - and then my parents talked to him and then very briefly I talked to him. Anyway, so come June 2014 we were on a plane to Karachi, everything happened super quickly and given how traditional, religious, and strict my parents are, there was minimal contact between me and my ex before the marriage (which in itself was a HUGE mistake). We literally had one maybe half an hour long phone conversation, one awkward family Skype session and literally that was it.
I spent four weeks in Pakistan two weeks before and and two after my rukhsati. Things were weird to being with— weird like mad rushed on my ex’s end like initially they wanted us to do nikkah over Skype cause we couldn’t get to Pakistan in March and they didn’t want to wait till June, shady cause they kept asking to keep things hush hush cause of nazr- like literally tell no one of the marriage not even extended relatives, we didn’t pay much mind to it besides thinking it was weird. I saw my ex in person for the first time when I landed at the airport, also a mistake. Awkward Salaams and how are yous ensued and that was literally it. Again no communication whatsoever.
The two weeks pre nikkah flew by. But things felt off and once I got married they got weirder. I kept all the lovely stuff that went down to myself like an idiot. My thing was that I’m married now, I need to give it a chance there needs to be adjustment and all that. So I decided to overlook a lot of things.
Again, not getting into too much detail, but as an example we were told the ex prays 5 times a day, fasts, pays zakat and all normal things that make you Muslim - he did not, none of it. My ex didn’t want me wearing hijab (cause literally what he said - “it makes my mom and sister look bad” they weren’t hijabis)
Okay so this part I omitted like even from memory and definitely not something I would like to discus further - but in the spirit of transparency and honesty - there were a handful of instances of physical abuse too. And I’ve always been those big talkers lol like you know, "oh I would never let that happen to me. 9-1-1 son or you touch me I touch you back" - lol looking back now Alhamdullilah it’s in the past, it's kinda sad how ignorant I was - when something like that happens to you, it's different - it’s real and you kinda become helpless. May Allah SWT protect us all. Ameen. Okay so yeah um, The End about this.
My ex, his mom and his sisters were just off. The way they behaved with each other was disrespectful and disgusting at times. They all carried that same demeanor with me and my grandparents and aunt in Pakistan.
Anyway so my hesitance in telling my parents anything was that my parents have done so much for me and they have enough to stress about, I didn't want to trouble them with whatever the issues were. Figuring the issues could be worked through. Time would fix things once we understood each other better. Once we were more settled and stuff. I just kept making excuses.
Two miserable weeks post rukhsati we all came back to NY, this was after stop fights not just limited to me doing things work for asking the wrong things or being demanding.
  • I’m not really typing in chronological order just as I remember things. *
One time, a week in to being married I was home alone at my ex’s place - while my ex his mom his sister and her husband all went overt to my Khala’s house where my mom was staying.. they kept taking about divorce and ending things here and now and how my mom is “unstable” and creates drama and how she is trying to ruin her daughters marriage. Mind you this is a week into the marriage. I have no idea they all went to speak to my mom, they yell curse break a door at my aunts place - all the while I’m home alone at my ex’s place The non issue that brought all this along was the fact that my mom had questioned why they asked me to go back with my patients just two weeks into the marriage as opposed to the initially planned 4 week stay. Anyway all this happens my mom freaks out my aunt freaks out thinking they were out of place and and my mom ends up apologizing - MISTAKE!
Anyway so on their insistence to start the immigration process HUGE RED FLAG! I left two weeks earlier than I was supposed to. I started the immigration process and all that good stuff right away.
  • I'll spoil the ending here - [the entire shaadi was a sham - just to gain citizenship] something that I heard myself on numerous occasions form him and his family in the time I was married. *
I admit that it mostly my fault that it lasted as long as it did for keeping things from my family.
Other red flags —
The wedding dress I was supposed to get from them “gets lost” my dad ends up buying me all three of my outfits. They said that they don’t have the financial means to buy me gold and stuff but we’re gonna gift me one set that belonged to his mom. Which was cool like we aren’t trying to get married to get gifts and stuff.
My Mehr was decided and set at 2000 usd on the nikkah papers it was listed as 500 rupees - we ignored it cause again not looking for financial gain.
The night after my rukhsati my exMIL stayed at the hotel that my family booked for me and my ex - she slept with us the entire night. WHO DOES THAT?!? she left the next evening - and we had another night at the hotel - the second night my ex got a call from his friend and they stayed on the phone, I fell asleep.
Day three we go to his place - it’s just him and his mom. It’s Monday his only day off. He spends the day watching tv. Returns to work regularly the reminder of my stay in Pakistan. Also RED FLAG.
So one of the reasons I kept this anonymous is cause I will be touching on intimacy, be warned.
So my two weeks in Pakistan post nikkah and rukhsati - the marriage was not consummated. I didn’t question this cause I was honesty relieved. I didn’t want to get phsyally intimate with someone who I met such a short time ago. I wanted it to be real and natural when it happened. I wanted to establish a emotional connection before hand and that takes time. So I appreciated his part in keeping things in my comfort zone.
Okay so yeah like I said, I came to home and began the immigration process immediately. It’s now mid July 2014. On my mom and aunts insistence I try and forget everything that took place and move on. Forgive and Forget.
July 2014 to about December 2014 I am the only one trying to make things work and communicate. I want to talk to my husband but he never seems to have the time. The time difference and the whole long distance thing is tough on me cause I am the only one making the effort to keep in touch I am up at 3 am to talk when he’s up and stuff and even then the conversations are very dry. He doesn’t wanna to FaceTime the doesn’t want to talk on the phone. I don’t really understand why. I begin to kind of blame myself and question if there is something lacking in me.
With all of this going on I decided to wanted to go see my ex and not just sit and wait for the immigration to go through cause that takes upwards of a year. Cause I wanted to grow as a couple and all that good stuff.
In January 2015 despite hesitation from my ex I ended up buying my own ticket to Pakistan for about 4 weeks. He didn’t take a single day off work again. The ex and his family weren’t pleased, and they showed it. But none of this really clicked for me at the time.
The month I spent in Pakistan in January was the absolute worst! I was treated as a burden I wasn’t allowed outside of the house. I was told that I shouldn’t talk to my grandparents or my parents or other relatives my ex and my ex in laws are my only family now. I was openly told to not wear hijab cause it isn’t necessary and “we’re sure you did everything haram in America so why act pious” I was told that I should be indebted to my ex for marrying me cause I was too ugly, that me and him weren’t a match. I was told that I shouldn’t spend my own money on any shopping in Pakistan and should save for my husband. I was told that I should only bring gifts for my in laws and no one else from my family. I was told that I was too open minded when I sat next to my ex on the sofa. I was told that I was rude and unislamic and “horny” cause I questioned my ex about not spending time with me.
I guess their hesitance I’m wanting me to t stay over stemmed from them trying to hide stuff. Cause during my stay I also learned that at 25 he had heart issues that he was talking medication for, he had blood pressure issues that he should have been taking medication for but wasn’t. When all of this came forward I wasn’t questioning why they withheld such big things - I was concerned for his wellbeing and urged him to take his meds and go to the doc regularly. All of these medical issues are non issues when it comes to marriage just like health and well being are from Allah SWT any ailmenats are also from Him. The matter is of being honest and transparent when it comes to marriage and disclosing these things before hand. Didn’t quite click then - but red flags!
My exMIL would spend hours in our room with us when my ex got home from work and then we’d just end up sleeping. I guess to prevent any sort of intimacy.
My ex and I had zero intimacy, he’d pull away and his mom would aid in it. The excuses I was given that he was under a lot of work related stress and over worked and needed time to work on himself. I understood, I didn’t necessarily straight up wanted physical intimacy but yeah I didn’t want a hug when he came home or to spend time together and have conversations. To share stuff about our lives cause we essentially were still strangers.
This one Friday night I wanted to go out for ice cream and I wanted it to be just my ex and myself. I admit I did nag him that day about it and he reluctantly agreed. When we came back home his sister and his mom were waiting for us and they went off - questioning why they weren’t taken for ice cream the past or right now and why we didn’t bring anything back for them why he’s changed and how he’s not theirs anymore. My ex turned around and punched at me, as a reflex I moved back and the punch landed halfway on my chin and half way on my chest. I was taken aback, I was in shock. I felt like I was at fault, I spent the night in his room alone crying while he slept in the spare room.
The next day he apologized and his mom said that these kind of things happen and I shouldn’t take it too seriously.
The entire time in Jan when my ex’s would go to work I would spent the entire day with my MIL I wanted to bond I wanted to treat her as I would my mother- and I did I did my best. But nothing was like ever enough.
I over heard my ex MIL on the phone one time saying how I am horny and wild all time and constantly and shamelessly having sex with her son all the time, how she made a mistake by marrying in America. Not true, we kissed ONCE. Lol
At this point I was beginning to find it odd that there was zero intimacy in our marriage life and I decided to question my ex directly week three of my stay in Pakistan about the lack of that aspect in our marriage. And he was offended, he said that I had to have been sexually active to even question such a thing, that a virgin wouldn’t be in need of sex and that since he was a virgin he needed time to be able to have a physical relationship and that he was stressed due to work and his mind wasn’t right which was causing his inability to have an erection. A little late on I learned that he been aware of his erectile dysfunction issues for a few years prior to our marriage. But hasn’t really been seeking treatment.
I also heard the ex MILsaid how I was financial burden on her son cause I forced him to get me first class ticked to Pakistan. NOT TRUE, I got my own sad economy tickets. I ignored all this and so much more.
I kept all of this crap to myself for the same reasons I mentioned in the beginning my parents had been through so much and I didn’t wanna be the casue of stress in their lives. I was conditioned to believe that divorce is taboo and looked down upon by Allah SWT, I didn’t wanna be labeled as someone who was divorced. I didn’t wanna start-over.
I knew if I go to my parents,’my dad specifically the marriage would be over. I wasn’t ready to give up.
My ex was always cold and quite with me. He was cocky and arrogant. Shamed the less fortunate made fun of peoples appearances was rude to the help. He was an awful person based on his personality alone. Im sure this was something I would have learned before marriage if I was given the chance to speak to him for a little while. And there wouldn’t have been a marriage lol.
I returned to NYC and February 2015 till August 2015 things remained as they had been bare minimum communication was the norm. I was hopeful that things would get better once he comes to America.
August 2015 the ex came to NY and stayed at my parents place for about six weeks. And in that time things kinda came out to my family. He was rude and nasty with my parents (everything from cursing yelling at me in front of my family to not replying to their Salaams to walking around the house in his boxers in front of my mom lol not coming out of the room at all not even for dinner).
In September 2015 I went to Chicago to visit his mamu his sister and mother also were there, this was another well straight form hell. His mother and sister wanted me to leave my family my job and move to Texas with my ex and his mother (which would have been fine if my ex had gotten a job or something. But they wanted me to move into a two bedroom apart with some family friend of theirs meaning the family friend would get one room and my ex and his mom and I would be in the other room) I said no thanks imma pass, we can move wherever when you have a job. And that became a whole thing where I was accused of being controlling and trying to separate my ex and his mom and how I am not a good wife cause I wasn’t listening to my husband and how Islam requires the wife to be submissive.
I had a normal toned conversation with my ex mil alone in the basement of my ex’s Mamu’s house and out of no where she starts beating her chest and wailing and yelling and crying saying I pushed her and hit her. Mind you I’m 5’ and she’s a big lady around 5’8. I was dumbfounded and like wait wtfffff?!? My ex SIL comes down and starts charging at me and saying I hit her mother. The mamu comes down controls things. I wish I could say that I called my self an Uber and went to the airport and caught the next flight back to nyc. But I didn’t. I cried. I apologized. We flew back to nyc a few days later.
Also during my stay in Chicago I over heard his sister talking to her husband on the phone saying that my ex only had to put up with me for a couple of years and the she’ll find him someone in Texas to marry. I confronted my ex about this and he just bushes it off saying that I misunderstood.
Anyway - at this point it kinda became clear to me and I finally started figuring out that the marriage isn’t worth my sanity or self respect and that I couldn’t spend my life like this.
So the marriage lasted about a year and a half of which like a total of 12 weeks were actually spent with the ex. In those 12 weeks our marriage was never consummated. Idk if it was an actual ailment he had or not. Allahu Alam but his physically inabilities and illnesses were also turned around on me, his mom started telling people that was barren, slept around, stole money from my ex. and all that came around to my mom and once it did there was so much drama!!!!! lol - of course at this point my parents begin questioning me and us about what the heck it is that’s going on.
I kept the intimacy issue part to myself until I couldn't really take anymore (around the time accusations were being thrown around).
So my dad confronted him in October - in an undeservingly respectful manner - and my ex well he left that night. No communication just up and left - making sure he takes my jewelry (gifts from his family and mine for the wedding) and his green card. He left the week after he got his green card his behavior in the time he was at myparents place progressively got more hostile rude and demeaning.
The night he left he made sure to create a scene and posted on social media that we had kicked him out. He not only took the jewelry that his mom gave me but also sets that my aunt had and cousin had given me.
Once he left he wouldn’t answer my calls or my dads he for a couple weeks.
I took a few weeks to kinda just come to terms with everything and mid November 2015 I contacted a lawyer wanting to file for divorce and that’s when I learned that theres a such thing as an annulment.
As soon as he was served the papers he started calling non stop his mother called me my dad my grandparents cause all of a sudden they wanted to save the marriage.
My annulment was granted in April of 2017 on the basis of immigration fraud. (It took two years cause of the ex claiming we abused him and kicked him out - that I cheated - - that the marriage was consummated I actually had to get a physical examination done to prove that my hymen was still in tact. Literally all the cheap tricks you can think of - this of course was to delay things for him in order to reach the 2 year period for his green card...
Much humiliation, hardships, court appearances and medical testing later - Alhamdullilah it was granted but only after we went on trial (oh joy!)
I’m sure you know but an annulment just means that the marriage isn’t registered or recognized no legal record of it- it’s as if it never happened, legally. (If only there were a way to actually erase it)
So yeah there is a lot a lot more to it. But I don't know how to explain all that and I don't think it's even necessary plus I don’t wanna backbite any more than I probably already have.
Side note - Alhamdullilah there was never an emotional attachment for me. Despite me overlooking everything that wasn’t right in the marriage. I tried so hard to developer a bond an understanding a foundation to the relationship that’ll lead to love or an emotional bond but I was alway met with emptiness and disgustingness.
I think what I’m trying to say is that let’s say there weren’t medical issues or the whole green-card thing, that it was a genuine marriage on their end too as it was on our end - I don’t think I could make it last. His personality was just something I despise, cocky arrogant, self centered, deceiving - plus his lack of understanding of Islam and the willingness to learn and try and better yourself. For him. It was all about putting on a show for the world - fake check ins - fake uploads of places we “visited”. He made fun of everyone behind their backs and to their faces. I could go on and on but I'm sure You get the picture.
Alhamdullilah through it all - my family has been a huge support system. They’ve been understanding and actually pushed me to pursue things asap (I was kinda in a bad place in the beginning).
Whatever happens does so through the will of Allah SWT - and Alhamdullilah I’m content with things now. I’ve lived and grown through my whole “why me” break down lol I do relapse now and then but as I pick my self back up.
I wouldn’t say I’m happy but happiness is subjective and honestly overrated. I am Aalhamdullilah content with my life now. With what Allah SWT has willed for me.
Recently turned 30 life doesn’t go as planned and it’s naive of us to think otherwise. Older, wiser, more mature I am content with the person I am I acknowledge the mistakes I’ve made, I’ve learned from the mistakes I’ve made.
In terms of getting married again, I want to get married and start a family white picket fence 2.5 kids and all but unfortunately it has proved to be a challenge. I hope and pray for the best Insha’Allah Allahum Alaam what life has in store for me.
The stigma and ignorance in the Desi Muslim community hold against divorce, specifically divorced women is all too prevalent. It’s shame how out of touch we have become from the teachings of Islam and our Prophet Muhammad (Sallahu ‘Alaihi Wasallam). May Allah SWT guide us all. Women with past martial histories are seen as damaged goods or second hand. They are encouraged to say yes to the first proposal that comes around cause it may be the only one.
I kinda wanted advice on how to go about trying to get married again, without comprising just because of my past.
JazakAllah Khair for your time!
Remember me in your Duaa’s.
The end! My bad for all that reading
So for all those asking.. the last I head the ex was still in Chicago. He still may or may not or may not be deported but honestly it doesn’t really make a difference to me, the damage to my life my image my reputation done. I hope he gets deported just cause if he doesn’t from a worldly perspective he’d “win”. But ultimately I know that my justice is with Allah and I’ve left it in His hands.
Also JazakAllah Khair everyone for the support and Duaa’s. 💕
Also shoutout to the one dude who commented on my not so on point grammar — my bad!
submitted by seekingsanity99 to MuslimMarriage

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