It all started in 2001 when my parents got married. My dad appeared to be a decent man with a stable job, which is why my grandparents married my mom off to him—to basically get rid of her. A month into the marriage, he forced her to get a job as a teacher, insisting that “everyone should work hard.”

Six months in, he started having seizures—he was diagnosed with epilepsy. My mom, a simple and scared woman, never told anyone about this and decided to take care of him, thinking it was her duty. After getting discharged, he told her: “Do you think I’m beneath you now because of my condition? I will never bow to you.” That shook her. She believed he must’ve been traumatized from being bullied for his condition and gave him the benefit of the doubt.

To the outside world, he was a "disciplined, religious" man. But at home, he never treated my mom with love. Never bought her a gift, forgot birthdays and anniversaries, and when she expected at least a cake, she got: “You’re stupid to expect things like that. Grow up.”

She suggested saving money, investing in land, and he responded with: “You’re a woman. You don’t know anything about the world.”

When she was pregnant with me, he would come home late and shout at her for not cooking. She fell into depression and, at one point, hit her stomach out of frustration and hopelessness. I was born in 2003. While he showered me with attention, my mom silently endured everything—working, taking care of the house, managing my studies. She was strict but incredibly supportive of my growth.

Meanwhile, he’d say things like: “She’s a witch. Come to dad when you want love, not studies.” He never let her go to her parents’ place or even call them. She was scared to say anything to them in case he retaliated.

When my mom had my younger brother, I was left at my grandparents’ place and playing around. My dad came to see the new baby and saw me unbathed and playing. In front of everyone, he slapped me hard. The room went silent. Later, he took me out and gave me chocolate like nothing happened.

During the pregnancy, he called her cravings a waste of money despite earning well. A maid once joked, “Sir, you’re so tolerant, your wife does nothing but sleep,” and he responded, “Yeah, she just exaggerates being a teacher.” My mom, who was carrying, heard that. She never forgot it.

I resented my brother growing up because the attention shifted to him. My dad beat me for being playful and loud. He shouted a lot. My mom was too drained to shield me. I was bullied by neighbor kids and didn’t have a safe space anywhere.

He refused to buy a better house my mom liked. My grandparents once tried to gift my mom some money, and he refused to go accept it, saying they should come to my house if they want to give me anything. He took that money and invested it in his business. When we got a car, he would blame us for being late to school even though it was always him who got ready late. He’d yell at my mom during the ride, calling her a brat in front of me and my younger brother.

When I was in Grade 5, we had a bad car accident—barely survived, that was the start of the downfall. After years, we took a trip with my mom’s colleagues. For five days, we didn’t hear from him. Turned out, he was in jail for not repaying a loan we didn’t know about. My mom was crushed. She had to handle everything.

He refused to take up a job, saying, “I will never bow down to a boss. I will bounce back.” But he never did. My mom started paying the loans, supporting the house, and our education. Meanwhile, he kept taking more loans without telling us.

One time, a goon came to our house, demanded repayment, and shouted at us. My mom gave him her necklace. After that, we used to hide in neighbors' homes. My dad beat her, and when I intervened, he hit me too. This happened while I was preparing for my Grade 10 exams. I still managed to score 81%.

For their anniversary, I bought a small photo frame with my pocket money. He got furious and hit me, saying, “Do you think I can’t gift your mom something myself?”

Later, his friends came asking for money. He fought with them. We lived in constant fear. Then came COVID. We were stuck in lockdown, forced to pretend to be a happy family. Things got worse. He hit me, mocked me, degraded my existence. Told me I was useless and wouldn't take care of him when he got old.

He was verbally abusive, physically violent, emotionally manipulative. He would act sweet on good days, call me “my dear daughter,” but I stopped falling for it. When I confronted him, he mocked my crying face and made it worse. My mom tried to protect me but ended up getting hit again.

I asked for money for my college projects—he made a scene every time. Finally, my mom, brother, and I packed our bags and went to our grandparents’. They didn’t want the responsibility. My dad came, agreed on paper to support us, and we returned. Nothing changed.

Now I’m about to finish my architecture degree. I asked my mom, “If I get a good job, will you come with me?” She said she’s been waiting for this her whole life.

She tried for divorce three times, but her parents refused, saying it would “bring shame.” They never cared about her well-being.

My mom now has diabetes and severe stress-induced body pain. The doctor says it’s dangerous. My dad’s narcissism and misogyny have ruined her health, our lives, and everything we could have been.

We didn’t leave earlier because we held on to those few good moments, hoping he’d change. But he didn’t. He won’t. Everyone thinks I am sort of a rebellious person thinking in a negative way breaking up the family.

I want to take things into my hands now. I want to take my mom and brother and leave forever. But I don’t know what my next step should be. We’re still financially weak, and I’m not earning yet. I don’t want to abandon her when she needs me most.

What can I do? How can I protect us, and ensure we never have to go back to that man again?