Buried Love
Tue 25th Aug 2026
They told me,
“Leave before the bruises become memories,
before his anger becomes your grave.”
My friends saw the pain I tried to hide,
the tears I swallowed behind closed doors,
the apologies that came after every storm.
But I stayed.
I stayed for the children,
for the home I had built,
for the vows I once believed were forever,
and for the fear of the whispers outside—
What will people say?
What will they think of you?
Maybe a woman should endure.
So I endured.
Year after year,
I convinced myself that love could soften a violent heart.
I believed tomorrow would be different,
that perhaps my patience would teach him tenderness,
that my forgiveness would awaken the man
I knew he could become.
But violence does not become love
because we love the person who carries it.
Every apology became another promise.
Every promise became another wound.
And every wound became another reason
for someone to tell me,
“Please, save yourself.”
Yet I kept hoping.
Until one day,
the house that was supposed to shelter me
became the place where my story ended.
Now I have learnt my lessons.
I have learnt my lessons but it's too late
because I am in the grave
The woman who kept saying,
“He will change,”
could no longer wait for change.
The mother who stayed for her children
left them with memories
no child should ever have to carry.
And perhaps that was the cruelest lesson of all:
I thought staying would protect my family,
but children do not need a home built on fear.
They need a mother who is alive,
a home where love does not have to beg for safety.
So let my story not become
another whispered tragedy.
Let families stop advising women to endure violence
for the sake of appearances.
Let society stop asking,
“What will people say?”
and start asking,
“Is she safe?”
Because there is no shame in leaving abuse.
There is no failure in choosing yourself.
And no relationship,
no marriage,
no promise,
no matter how many years have been invested,
is worth a life.
I believed love would save him.
In the end,
I needed love to save me.
May my memory become a warning,
not another statistic.
And may every woman living behind a smiling face
and a frightened heart
hear this before it is too late:
You deserve a life where love does not hurt you.
You deserve a home where you are safe.
And you are never weak if you choose to leave.
Listen to this piece here