‘They’ll make you all these promises,’ my mum told me in Bangla when I was 15. ‘They will tell you they love you or will marry you, so you have sex with them. But once you do, they will break every promise and leave.’
I went to sleep that night in the hospital feeling sick and frustrated. I also hadn’t been able to keep any food down and I couldn’t sleep either.
Every two to three hours, a nurse would check my blood pressure, do a blood test and take my temperature. I also had a catheter attached, which was extremely uncomfortable.
The next day in hospital, I spoke to a gynaecologist and told her I never want to have sex again. She laughed and said this isn’t how sex was supposed to be. ‘When you’re ready, it’ll be so much better,’ she assured me. I felt wary but nodded anyway.
