Aunty Lizzie

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Every little girl dreams of the day she’ll get married, in her mind a handsome prince from a faraway land comes to rescue her from the simpleton life she’s become tolerant of. Not every little girl gets the same rude awakening I got. I learned at an early age the effect of a broken love. Aunt Elizabeth, Aunty Lizzie as I often called her, was the sweetest person I had known. She was my favourite aunt in the world; she was my favourite person in the world. Aunty Lizzie had lived with us for as long as I can remember, helping us with everything from household chores to homework. She always seemed to know how to make everything fun, even doing the dishes. I was eight years old when Aunty Lizzie got married, it was both the happiest day of my life; I got to be a flower girl. The wedding was beautiful and I was excited, excited for Aunty Lizzie and for her husband uncle tunde. He seemed like such a sweet person. I never really got to spend much time with him but the little time we spent together he seemed genuinely nice that is until four months after their marriage. Aunty Lizzie and uncle tunde had a nasty divorce. It was one of the worst moments of my life; the divorce impacted my whole family. It felt like everything in the world had changed for us. Aunty Lizzie the once cheery, happy persona became angry and moody depending on the time of day, and it seemed like all the women in my family became the same way. They became irritable, man bashing women. At that age I couldn’t understand the intensity of the whole incident, but I had heard enough man bashing to steer me away from men; I couldn’t count how many times I had heard them say how men were ‘selfish’, ‘self-centred’ ‘egotistical’ and ‘unable to tell left from right’ For an eight year old girl like myself with thoughts of marrying a handsome prince like uncle tunde, my dreams were shattered, I had become to question the whole idea of getting married. I had never known what uncle tunde had done but I know it...
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