I never thought that sharing my past with my husband would lead to this. If I had known, I would have rewind the hands of time. I regret sharing my past with him with every fiber of my being.

But the thing is, I thought that sharing my secrets with him would make us closer. How wrong I was!

It's like I've handed him a weapon, and he uses it against me every chance he gets, taking me back to place I have long since forgotten.

I remember the moment I decided to reveal my secret to him. In my mind’s eye, he would see the strength behind me opening up about my past and would appreciate my honesty.

I opened up to him one lazy night in bed while we talked life and very deep stuff. I told him about a brief moment when I had to sleep with older men for money because I couldn’t complete my university education. 

I came from a polygamous family and had a father who did not really care much for me or any of his children for that matter, so, it had always been me and my mum. I was her only child and she doted on me the best she could until she passed away my second year in school.

I was completely heartbroken and had to pause my schooling for one year. When I came back to school, I was already a year behind my classmates and worse, I had exhausted the little savings my mother had before she died on her burial ceremony and surviving.

I was depressed and frustrated and so when a man met me in campus one day and offered to take me out, I obliged. He eventually told me that he would give me 30k for a night with him and feeling very frustrated, I accepted. As disgusted as I was engaging in a dirty sexual act with a man old enough to my father, I also loved the fact that I was 30k richer. 

Things progressed quickly from there and he soon started paying and also connecting me to his friends. After I had saved about 4 million from it, I decided to quit it completely and invest in a wig business. Fortunately for me, the wig business because successful and 2 years later, I met my husband.

I’m not proud of what I did, but I wish he could see that I was a young girl who had limited options.

When I had initially told my husband this story, he had gotten emotional and we had even cried in each others arms. In that moment, I had felt very light and grateful to have shared that aspect of my life with him. Unknown to me, I had set a pendulum in motion that would hit with me full force without me ever knowing.

The first time he mentioned it in an argument, he had immediately apologized and I had forgiven him. But, it happened a second time and a third time and then every other time.  

I see the way he looks at me now. He looks  at me with so much disdain and disgust. On the rare occasions that we have sex, he treats me like an object.  Like my body does not belong to me 

I feel so frustrated and sad. The frustration is like a fire burning within me. It's not just about the fact that he brings it up whenever we argue, It's the way he questions my character, my motives, as if that one part of my history defines me entirely.

I thought loving someone was about acceptance, about acknowledging each other's flaws and growing together. But, I guess I was so wrong.

I'm haunted by the realization that my past may have  overshadowed all the love we once used to share. 

I wish my husband could see that my past doesn't define me anymore. 

One part of me wants to keep apologizing him for something I did way before I met him, the other part wants to scream and shake him so he can see the damage he's causing. I can't help but wonder if there's a way to mend what's been broken. Maybe time will help us heal, or maybe time will drift us further apart.

I will just have to wait and pray against all things that we both make it past this rubble.