I moved out of home about 11 years ago and managed to keep my head above water, fumbling along the way with dishonest real estate agents, shonky furniture delivery people, slave driving bosses and working hard to pay off my phone bills.

After getting married I didn’t want to be responsible for anything. Husband was given the task of budget manager – managing the finances, paying all the bills in his lunch hour poor thing. He even took over ordering the food for take-out. I didn’t want to talk on the phone anymore. I refused to do a thing. I was tired of being independent and just wanted to sit and do nothing.

So the years have gone by and I am feeling this wasn’t such a good idea. I know that Allah forbid if anything was to happen to husband I will cope inshaAllah but it seems as though since marriage, I’ve done a complete 180. I wasn’t prepared to end up such a useless person. I haven’t filled up petrol in my car for THREE years and the thought of actually going to the bowser to do it freaks me out completely. It’s only recently that I am confident enough again to phone the takeaway people (aka Nandos.)

What happened to me? In a bid to relieve some of my responsibility I’ve become so dependent on my husband for everything! I don’t even know what I’m scared of.

So the car’s petrol light has come on and it’s beeping everytime I switch the engine on. I am going to have to bite the bullet, pull my finger out, get on with it and take a trip to the petrol station. Then again, I could take this opportunity to observe just how many kilometres I can get on reserve.

Public transport?

Cycling?

Walking?

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Alright! Alright!

Fine. I’ll do it.

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