I grew up in a very traumatic home. Everyone has their struggles, but I am not exaggerating when I say I had one of the worst experiences.
My father was a polygamous man. He was well known for it. The women he married were equally stubborn and always ready for a fight. They fought him, fought my mother, and fought anyone who came close to threatening their happiness.
Between my mother and father, there were countless fights. They would start screaming, my mother would throw hands, my father would raise his too, and before long they would be hitting each other. Many times, I would peep through the kitchen window, realize it was them fighting again, and rush in to separate them. Some days I was lucky and escaped without a scratch. Other times, I ended up with injuries of my own.
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School became my safe place. I begged the days to move slowly because I dreaded going home after classes. My home was always full of people. Stepmothers, stepsiblings, uncles, and relatives were everywhere. It was exhausting. It was chaotic.
One hot afternoon, after separating yet another fight, I sat down and made a vow to myself. I promised that I would never involve myself in any situation that looked anything like the home I grew up in. Yet somehow, that is exactly where I find myself today.
On my birthday, I received a message from a man. He wished me a happy birthday and prayed for God’s blessings upon my life. I didn’t have his number saved, so I checked his profile and realized we were both in the same church group.
The conversations moved on from there. I had seen him around during church conventions. We worshipped at the same church but attended different branches. Apparently, he had been trying to get my attention for a long time but never had the chance. So there he was, taking his shot on my birthday and hoping I would give him a listening ear.
When he proposed to me, I asked for some time to think and pray about it. But the truth is, I was not really praying about anything. I was not waiting for some divine sign either. The reason was simple. He has a child. No doubt children are a blessing from God, but they can be trouble too.
The child itself is not the problem. What scares me is anything that could potentially bring trouble into my marriage. Normally, I avoid situations like that completely, but this one feels different. When love enters the picture, it has a way of making you question every decision you have ever made. The good, the bad, and the ugly.
According to him, he intended to marry the woman after she got pregnant. However, they had a series of disagreements that eventually led to both families supporting their separation. Since then, he says he has been looking forward to finding someone like me.
Not long ago, I met his mother and spoke to some of his relatives over the phone. I can honestly say they are good people. His mother calls me almost every day to pray for me, something I rarely experienced growing up, and I appreciate it very much. Nonetheless, it also makes me uncomfortable. Maybe because of my childhood. Maybe because I am not used to that kind of affection. Maybe because part of me is waiting for something to go wrong.
Ever since I met this man, he has never pretended to be someone he is not. He has come clean about everything. He is caring, loving, patient, and kind. These are the exact qualities I have always wanted in a man. Yet this issue of him having a child continues to bother me. What if the child’s mother comes back after we get married? What if she sees us living peacefully and suddenly decides she wants him again?
The truth is, since we started dating, we have barely had any serious disagreements. In fact, I am usually the one looking for something to complain about. If he replies to my messages a minute late, I complain. If he seems distracted, I complain. Sometimes I feel like I deliberately test his patience, but he never reacts the way most people would. Whenever I am troubling him, he just smiles, calls me, stays on the phone while I vent, and refuses to get angry. He is too peaceful. And maybe that is why I am scared, because I ask myself what is behind all this calmness.
His family keeps assuring me that I have nothing to worry about. His mother says, “My daughter, we will take care of you. Please marry my son.” His father calls and asks, “My daughter, what is happening with the proposal? When are we coming to see your family?” His sisters, brothers, uncles, and relatives all tell me how much they like me. They insist that no one, including the child’s mother, will come between us. They all say the separation happened because of her actions and that she has no place in his future.
Still, I am afraid. I have prayed about it. I have thought about it. I have listened to everyone around me. And now I honestly do not know what to do.
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So, elders, help me. Am I overthinking because of my past, or am I right to be afraid? A man with a child and a baby mama. I grew up in a home with plenty siblings from my father’s many concubines. It is probably not the same thing, but what if it starts from here, small small? What if I am always on ten toes, waiting for something to happen? Should I focus on the man he has shown himself to be, or should I take my fears as a warning sign?
—Angela
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