I am the only daughter in my family. I have two brothers, although they’ve since disowned me since I got married.
It was different when we were growing up. We were so close. We often played and bonded with each other, because our father used to move around a lot. That didn’t give us much time to make friends.
I was the last one among them to get married, but my choice of a husband clearly didn’t suit their taste. I was disowned from being their sister, and my (now) husband is being treated harshly.
If it wasn’t for my dearest mom, I’d have gone insane and probably done something really bad (but let’s not talk about that).
Here’s how I was disowned by my brothers.
Blood is thicker than water? Not in my case.
I guess the saying is true, that people you’ve known all your life may not be the ones who know you best.
I was close to my brothers, often spending time with their own families as I was still single then. I doted on their children, loving them unconditionally as if they were my own.
Things just rapidly changed after my father passed away. For some reason they felt ‘superior’ and acted all high-and-mighty while handling the inheritance matters.
My mom, who never once blamed her sons for anything, said it was due to their wives’ influences over the inheritance.
I disagreed with her. They are all adults and heads of their own families. They should know better.
Even my mother wasn’t spared, and they often treat her like she doesn’t know anything about managing our family home. The truth us, she had always been handling things at home all these years.
Thankfully, I was able to introduce my then-boyfriend (now husband) to my late dad while he was in the hospital. I explained the dude’s background – he was a soon-to-be divorcee, and he has kids of his own.
To my surprise, my dad had no objections whatsoever with that, and my mom only wished for our happiness. Bless his soul and her dear heart.
My brothers knew about his background too, and they’ve all showed their support. Their only request was that he settled his divorce first. I trusted them and told them personal stuff about my husband and I, as I’ve always done with them over the years.
Which was why I couldn’t understand what happened after.
Right after my dad’s passing, things turned sour. All of them turned against me and my now-husband. What did I do wrong?
It started during the first fasting month without my dad. I brought my husband home to break fast with us. Mom okay-ed the idea, and we thought we’d break the news telling the whole family about our wedding plans.
But things backfired on us when I received a text from one brother asking why would I want to bring him over? He’s not ‘family’.
Err, excuse me, haven’t you had girlfriends over many times before?
When I replied that we had something to announce and mom agreed to it, that once-sweet-and-loving brother of mine started a WhatsApp shouting match in the family group chat, voicing his dissatisfactions over my decision to bring the guy home.
And all hell broke loose.
Guess who’s the black sheep of the family?
I was so ashamed and embarrassed by the behaviour of my own flesh and blood. I wanted to turn the car around and drive away from the family home.
But my husband told me to think of my mom instead. She insisted on us eating at home.
She started crying as my dastardly brother lashed out on her over dinner. Of course, I was blamed for making her cry too.
We left right after eating a little bit. We were starving from our fast but lost our appetite. My poor mom packed some food for us.
That marked the first of many unpleasant encounters between my brothers and I. Eventually they labelled me as a homewrecker and my husband as a cheater. They even spread lies about us to other relatives, trying to get them to be on their side.
After my dad passed, none of them wanted to be my wali (male custodian / protector) for the marriage solemnization.
So, plan B was to find a wali hakim, which then became the talk of the village. People wondered why none of them wanted to be my wali.
Fast forward to the end of the year, when we were supposed to have our wedding. I’ll never forget how my Mom became my pillar of strength, having helped us every single step of the way for the wedding.
When it came to getting the necessary signatures for the marriage forms and license however, the eldest brother avoided my texts and calls. He even ignored the ones from my mother!
Hoping for a miracle
No thanks to him, our wedding had to be postponed twice. We incurred losses from everything that we planned but failed to carry out.
I almost gave up, and even thought of eloping. But my husband and mom kept supporting me throughout.
I guess what’s meant to be will always find its way. We were finally married at the mosque by the Wali Hakim with just a few people around. None of my brothers showed up, and my poor mom had to keep up a happy face even though she was torn inside by her children’s behaviour.
Post married life, my husband and I made some attempts (all out of respect on mom’s requests) to patch things up. However, it was all futile, as they refused to meet us or even answer our calls.
I’ve had enough of their foolish stunts. I now have a husband who clearly adores me, and it’s my duty to uphold his honour. I would not let the two of them diminish his integrity with us having to bow at their feet.
We haven’t spoken to each other since, and none of them would visit my mom at home if we were around.
Forget Raya, forget the Three Stooges, forget everything – my brothers have truly disowned me.
For more articles like these, read I’m a Chinese Girl Raised in a Traditional Chinese Family. Here’s My Story, and My Abusive Husband Died in My Arms. Here’s My Story.
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