You’re mine and only mine. No one can have you but me. You’ll feel safe and secure with me. No one else.” His words still had the power to hurt me even after so many years. I was eight years old at the time. “If you leave me you’ll never feel safe or secure ever gain.” Then he hurt me again and again.

“There you go. You’re ready to meet your husband now. You’re absolutely glowing.” My aunt gave me one last kiss on the forehead before checking to see that my gharara was spread elegantly over the bedspread and my dopatta was in place. She checked if the AC and fan and lighting were all in their proper settings and blew me a kiss before hurriedly walking out.

I could hear giggles from the other side and couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Why do people make this night so iconic and special and weird for the couple? I think the couple should be given ample space and privacy to decide what they want. At least Noman would understand. I know Noman since we were in school. We had practically grown-up together. We were the best of friends before our friendship became a relationship. Our parents made sure to hitch us together right after O’Levels. We both knew it was too soon but then again we didn’t want to be with anyone else so we acceded.

I thought I was the luckiest person on the planet when we got married and so was Noman. Very few people are lucky to find both love and friendship in one person but we had found both.

Noman walked in and I couldn’t help but smile widely. He looked very handsome in his sherwani.

“Is it as awkward for you as it is for me?” he laughed. I nodded in agreement. He took off his sherwani and in his silken garb just plopped onto bed beside me.

I made room for him to be comfortable.

He suddenly became quiet and smiled at me. He took my hand into his and held it tightly and I instinctively pulled away; as I had done so many times in the past.

“Haya, we’re married now. Is everything okay?”

I didn’t know why I did that. I just looked at Noman in some degree of horror.

“I know we’ve refrained in the past because we wanted it to be official/legal. But what’s holding us back now?”

He grinned from ear to ear.

I knew he was just having some fun with me but I couldn’t ignore the thumping of my heart and it wasn’t excitement that I felt. For me, it felt more like revulsion and disgust.

Noman stopped midway in his excited banter and was suddenly very concerned.

“What’s wrong, Haya? Why are you shaking? Are you unwell?”

That’s when I realised that I was trembling quite vividly.

“Maybe I am unwell. Can I lie down?”

“Of course you can, Haya. You don’t need to ask me. Please lie down and rest. I’ll turn off the lights.”

The room was dark and I was almost about to fall asleep when my door creaked open. I was barely ten years old at the time. He walked in and I turned around to face him. He lied on top of me and made me close my eyes. He held a pillow over my face. I screamed into it and bore the ordeal till it was over.

I turned on my side and closed my eyes. I stopped trembling but I was engulfed with an extreme fatigue that was very empowering. I closed my eye and fell asleep almost instantaneously. I could faintly hear Noman puttering around the room and then him lying next to me. I felt safe and secure. I couldn’t understand why I had reacted the way I did. But I couldn’t do anything about it tonight and I let sleep takeover me.

I felt extremely better the next morning. I was worried if Noman would be upset but he wasn’t. In fact, he was concerned if I was feeling well enough to get ready and join everyone downstairs.

He helped me get ready and held out his arm to hold me as we both ventured out. Holding him like this felt good. I again felt safe and secure.

The early wedding blissful days were definitely amazing and Noman and I enjoyed them fully.

Everything was perfect except for our physical relationship. Whenever we tried I would clamp up or feel squeamish and once or twice I even fainted. Once I asked him to put a pillow on my face if he had to. That was the match breaker. Noman recoiled away from me and almost yelled out something unintelligible. He went off into the bathroom and shut the door loudly behind him. I quickly straightened myself and the room waiting for him to come out.

Noman finally came out and I could tell he had been crying but he seemed to be considerably relaxed as he sat me down beside him on the couch.

He held my hand and surprisingly I didn’t jump away from him.

This was a safe touch and I felt exactly that, safe and secure.

“We need to take you to a therapist. We will fight this together.”

I wasn’t expecting this. Even though I was a psychologist I didn’t think there was anything wrong with me mentally but then aren’t doctors the last ones to realise that they are unwell.

“You can’t see through your subjectivity. You need professional help.”

That’s when I pulled my hand away.

“You think I’m sick. You think I need help? Maybe there’s something wrong with you? Maybe you don’t love me enough or show it to me often enough. You make me feel unsafe and I don’t feel secure when I’m with you. The problem is not with me, it’s with you!”

I know becoming defensive was not the right thing but I couldn’t fathom the thought that Noman believed there was something wrong with me.

Noman stayed very quiet and understood my frustration.

His silence seemed to have triggered me even more. And I lashed out.

“Is that what every man wants? What about the love and care that we share. What about that? Do you want to fix me?”

In my heart I knew that I was wrong but I had turned it all into a twisted mess because I couldn’t handle the situation. I couldn’t handle the real reason for my revulsion. And it would all come out and I couldn’t let that happen. I had kept it a secret, a dark and dirty secret for too long. Maybe it was time it needed to see the light of day. But that time was not today.

I was surprised that Noman was still sitting there quietly even after that.

He spoke up finally in a loud whisper, his voice was extremely hoarse.

“You’re frigid, Haya and you need to accept it. If you accept it you’ll be able to get treatment.” He almost said it under his breath and I could tell that he was in as much pain as I was.

I fell down on the floor and began to cry.

He came to me and held me as I sobbed. “We’ll do this together. We’ll fix this and we will lead happy and fulfilled lives. Please let me help you.”

I got up and pushed him away.

“I am happy! Can’t you see?” I shouted at him and ran into the bathroom and locked the door behind me.

Frigidity is a psychological disorder that affects more women than is actually acknowledged or recorded. Due to women being frigid the occurrence of marital rape is on the rise as well as divorce especially in a patriarchal society where men would rather leave their wives than seek out medical or psychological help. These women have either been abused by a close relative or stranger many times during their childhood that leaves emotional scarring so deep that they cannot bear to be touched. With proper help and treatment many women can lead happy and fulfilling lives with their spouse.