I grew up in
a traditional Sri Lankan family where a lot of emphasis was placed on
education. Both my parents were doctors and my older sister soon followed suit.
Although there was no obligation for me to become a doctor, I felt as if those
who even thought of doing something other than medicine, engineering, law and
accountancy were scorned upon by society.
I wanted to
become a veterinarian but somehow found myself headed down the path of
medicine. Getting many A’s in school was as important. So was learning how to
play the piano. I had no time for boys or boyfriends. In fact, I was quite
content at the thought of an arranged marriage as I was certain my parent would find me the ‘right’ man.
Now looking back, I wish
I had been more adventurous and less afraid in my younger days. Although I
excelled academically, I had no life skills.
When my husband of 6 years left me, my whole world came
tumbling down. It was as if the rug had been pulled from underneath me. He was
my best friend; my first true love and the person I imagined myself growing old
with.
Why he left me for someone else I shall never know. She was
older, had two kids and was financially insecure. I, on the other hand, a doctor
with a bright future ahead of me.
After I couldn’t cry anymore, I found myself walking in this
thick fog that seemed to last forever. I often wondered when I would fall off a
cliff and come to an eternal rest. I was confused, upset and eventually blamed
myself for the failure of our marriage.
When I wasn’t walking in this fog, I was in the deepest,
darkest and loneliest pit. Climbing out of this pit was such an effort that
sometimes it was easier to lie in there forever.
Surprisingly, the only thing that kept me going was work. I
loved my job and I would put on a brave face, force a smile and head off to
work. I work with elderly folk who amuse and amaze me on a daily basis. Some
are so stoic and resilient that nothing seemed to phase them. Others are
accepting of life and they make the best of it despite adversities.
My patients often told me how lovely and beautiful I was and
how lucky my husband must be. Others asked if I had any children. I would
jokingly say that they worked me too hard for me to think about starting a
family.
What consistently brought a tear to my eye is the fond
stories patients tell me about their partners. How they met, the challenges
they faced bringing up their kids and how they grew old together but never
falling out of love with one another.
Life as a doctor was not easy. I spent ten long years
training to become a consultant. That involved working long days, weekends, the
night shift and moving from one hospital to another. When I wasn’t catching up
on sleep, I was busy studying for exams, reading medical journals, writing up
reports and the list goes on. Being a fellow doctor, I thought he would have
understood. All I know is that I did my best.
I’ll always remember the first day we met. It was a cold
November afternoon in the lovely city of Glasgow. I was nervous but excited as
I waited for him. We had been speaking on the phone for weeks beforehand, so I
didn’t feel as if I was meeting a stranger. And then I saw him come up the
escalator, a quiff followed by the rest of him. It was as if we were old
friends as conversation flowed easily.
Coffee turned into a movie and then
dinner. Fantastic Mr Fox was our first of many movies to come. He came back for
more the next day before I flew back to Ireland. I was living in Ireland then. We met up every weekend from then onwards. A few months
later he told me he loved me and wanted to marry me. I felt the same. Our
families were ecstatic as we were both from the same cultural background,
therefore it was a marriage made in heaven. We got married just over a year later.
I’ll always remember the first time we lay eyes on our new
house. We had seen two other houses but this one was special. It was bright,
happy and inviting. I knew it was the one for us. He felt the same. We moved in
a few months later and I couldn’t have been happier. It was our first place
together. I found a thinking spot by the radiator and he found his favourite
spot sit on the stairs. I can still see him there, looking down at his phone. When
he walked out of our home he took with him the sunshine.
I was coming home to a dark, cold and lonely house. The void
and emptiness paralysed me. Everything reminded me of him. The pain was so bad it incapacitated me to
the point that all I can do was go to bed and cry inconsolably. I prayed asking
that he guide me down the right path.
I can’t say I was ever unhappy in the marriage.
Relationships do hit a plateau after some time but that is not a cue to replace
your partner.
I still do think about him- I wonder what he’s doing, who
he’s with and most importantly if he is happy. Secretly I wish that he is
unhappy and filled with regret. I imagine him wanting so desperately to get back
together with me. The reality is that he had moved on and looking back, perhaps
he left a long time ago mentally even if he was with me physically.
There was cruelty in the way he broke the news about his
affair. He chose to tell me two weeks after our wedding anniversary and two
days before the new year. I guess they had made plans to welcome in the new
year together. I was physically sick for two days. He told me I was the
‘perfect wife ‘and he that he wanted a second chance. Although he loved her, he loved me more.
Naively I gave him a second chance.
The next few months were a blur. I discovered more lies, the
gifts, the jewellery, the lingerie, the 5-star hotel getaways, the day trips to
the cinema and the secret trips to York. He stayed in most of the hotels around
the area while I worked the night shifts and the weekends.
Although we were ‘trying again’ in reality we lived apart.
Surprisingly he said he needed time and space. He wanted to move back into our
home, but he ‘just wasn’t ready’. Staying at a friend’s place and hanging out
with the guys helped clear his mind. He also wanted to throw himself into his
work and therefore could only visit me once a week for an hour.
We never spent any weekends together as he wanted to catch
up with a few friends before we got back together properly. But he did promise
on many occasions to take me to the cinema or to dinner to give us a chance to
discover ourselves. He stood me up 9 out of 10 times. When he did come to
visit, I would cook him a nice meal and we would talk about the weather. He
would always text in advance making it clear that we should steer away from the
‘heavy stuff’. He called the shots.
He said that as he had told me about her once so there was
no need to go through it again. We did go to counselling, but he gave such
model insincere answers that it was a pointless exercise and quite frankly a
waste of time and my money. Yes, he would turn up to sessions without cash!
Having spent more than £ 3000 on his mistress, parting with £50 to save his
marriage was hard for him, a rich Cardiologist.
Telling my parents was one of the hardest things I’ve ever
had to do, and I delayed it for as long as I could. My mum knew something awful
had happened when she heard my voice. She cried with me and continued to cry
for the next year and a half. She prayed and often asked God why. When she
spoke to me, she told me to stay strong and that something good was on the
horizon. ‘You’re a good person and God will never let you down’. I was at my lowest and she was my
pillar. My dad was a quiet man. Although
he didn’t say much, inside he wept. I was precious to him and he was very proud
of me. I was his little girl after all, and I was hurting.
My mother-in-law
blamed me. In her eyes, a good Indian wife is one who is intelligent, highly
qualified, beautiful, fair and slim. Oh yes, this person should also be highly
skilled in the kitchen, able to maintain the house to a high standard and hold
a full- time job. Ironically, she struggled to get through secondary school
herself but because her son was a Cardiologist who graduated from the UK, she
was better than everyone else.
She put the’ failure’ of the marriage down to the fact that
I was a ‘bad ’daughter in law. I wasn’t accommodating enough. I was rude to
her, didn’t engage when she spoke poorly of friends and relatives, money
minded, and the list went on. I was also fat and had spots on my face. When I
cooked him a nice meal, she would accuse me of making him fat. When I didn’t
cook for him, I was a disappointment. Overall, I was a disappointment and I
could never do anything right. I wasn’t allowed to talk about the affair. Her
son was not at fault as he can do no wrong. Therefore, by default, it was my
fault.
She was a vile narcissistic woman who always successfully
reduced me to tears. Although I never cried in front of her, I was often upset
and subdued when she was around.
What bothered me the most was that he never stood up for me.
With time, he started convincing me that I was the one with
the problem and that I needed to take a good look at myself. He was slowly starting to become like her. I
guess it’s true -the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree.
I knew I had to leave our marital home and find a place of
my own. The house after all was in his name. His mum was visiting, and he said
that he needed a place to put the ‘beast’ up.
Nine months after we separated, I moved into my new home. I had
served him the divorce papers by now. I also started talking to people about
what I was going through. Talking helped as it gave me the strength to move on
and I realised that I wasn’t alone. I have been blessed with good friends and
the most amazing sisters-in-law. They are more like sisters to me. They stood
by me, cried with me, picked me up and helped me fly again. These two apples
fell a mile away from the tree!
I met M at this point. He was kind, sweet, patient and
generous. I was sceptical and distant. Learning to trust and love again wasn’t
easy. I needed time and he was willing to wait. The dark clouds were starting
to lift and the sun was peeping through.
And then I met my dogs, Monty and Bailey. My husband had not
allowed me to have dogs because he said they would ruin the carpets and
furnishings. Instead, vibrant colours started to fill my world when my dogs
arrived. I met them at the animal rescue centre I volunteer at. They were
Romanian rescue dogs who travelled all the way to England in search of love.
Monty, we think, is 10 and Bailey 7. I fell in love with them right away. In
some ways they reminded me of myself. Unwanted but not defeated completely. I
brought them home a week later.
The love that dogs give you is unconditional. They don’t
care what you look like. It didn’t matter if you were fat with spots on your
face, as long as you loved them, they loved you back. It was that easy. I often
wondered how Monty and Bailey found themselves on the streets. I just hope it
wasn’t because their owners replaced them with a new dog.
Monty and Bailey have introduced me to this secret world of
dog lovers. They love saying hello to other dogs, and because of them I’m now
friends with other dog parents. They’ve also brought M and me closer. He never
had a dog growing up although he wanted one badly. He dotes over them and is an
amazing daddy to them.
Two years later, I’m glad I didn’t give up then. God knows
how close I came so many times but the little voice in my head kept saying
‘hold on, it will get better ‘. I didn’t think I’d find my way out of the thick
fog but I did and what I discovered beyond the fog was absolutely beautiful.
I’m stronger, more resilient and I’ve learnt to believe in myself. More
importantly, I’ve learnt to respect myself. He made me feel small and his mum
made me feel worthless. Now they are no longer part of my life.
In some ways, life is like being on a train.
Along the way,
the train stops at various stations where people get in and some get out. The people who matter the most to us will
remain on this train and go through life’s journey with us. Even if they are no
longer around in person, they travel with us in spirit. We come across so many
people and experiences along the way. Some don’t even board the train.
And then there are those who come into our lives for a
specific reason. They teach us the harshest and hardest lessons of lives. Once
the lesson is learnt, we emerge out of our cocoon ready to face the world but
this time it will take a lot more to push us down. It also means letting go of
the past so that there is more room on our train for the future. We must allow
people who hold us back and make us feel small to leave this train forever.
Letting go of my husband has been incredibly difficult for
me as he was my first love. I still think about the happy times but I must say
they’re slowing starting to fade. I look at my two dogs and I feel intense love
towards them. Their melting brown eyes, soft fur and sweet nature make me the
luckiest dog mummy in the world.
I look over at M who is busy trying to build me this fancy
electronic device that will fortify the house. What a sweet thing to do. I know
that we will go out for a walk later with Monty and Bailey. I look out into the
garden and see birds feeding off the bird feeder. The garden looks pretty with
lots of different flowers. They are big, bright and happy. Bailey is soaking up
the sun while Monty is busy chasing the crows away. I see some squirrels make
their way toward the bird feeder. I will have to top it up soon.
My train is moving down some beautiful pastures. I take it
all in. I don’t know what lies ahead but for now, I am happy and I want to live
life.
By ‘The Secret Female Asian Doctor’
