Tjaša je zapis v originalu objavila v angleškem jeziku na družbenem omrežju FB; nam pa dovolila prevod in objavo.
Tjaša Novak je plesalka latinskoameriških plesov, ki se je po kratkem plesanju za Slovenijo se je odločila za partnerstvo s srbskim plesalcem Bojanom Lazareskim in plesala za to državo; nato odšla v Nemčijo in zdaj že nekaj časa živi in dela v ZDA, kjer poučuje in pleše salso in bachato.
Tjaša prihaja iz plesne družine Novak, njena starša sta Fredi Novak in Daniela Škofic Novak. Zapis je zelo oseben, Tjaša pa se, kot zdaj zelo pogumna ženska, odziva na trenutno stanje v islamskem svetu.
“Že nekaj let razmišljam, da bi pisala o tem, a šele po nedavnih svetovnih dogodkih sem se opogumila in bom z vami delila to grozljivo zgodbo. Upam, da bo zapis pomagal drugim ženskam in da se ne bodo ujele v isto past, hkrati pa želim poučiti ljudi in jim razložiti, kako obupane so ženske na Bližnjem vzhodu in drugod po svetu. Večina žensk se tega niti ne zaveda. Leta 2015 sem že peto leto zapored osvojila državni naslov v latinskoameriških plesih v Srbiji. Moja naloga je bila, da treniram vsak dan v tednu, vsak drugi konec tedna pa sem imela tekmovanja povsod po svetu. Lahko rečem, da sem imela visoke cilje in da je bilo življenje dobro. To poletje sem se zaljubila, verjetno prvič v življenju. Prvič v življenju sem začutila, da me je ljubil moški, ki bi zame naredil vse, prav tako jaz zanj. Spoznala sva se na zabavi po tekmovanju, in čeprav sva živela v oddaljenih državah, sva se začela pogovarjati in se kmalu tudi obiskovati. Trajalo je kar nekaj časa, da sem ugotovila, da je bil on tam le po naključju; ni bil del plesne množice, s katero sem se družila že od rojstva. Moja starša sta lastnika plesnega studia, kjer sem praktično odraščala, in večina ljudi, ki sem jih tam srečala, je razmišljala podobno kot jaz.
Nekaj mesecev zatem sem živela pravljično življenje in kmalu sem se preselila v Nemčijo, da bi si bila bližje. Našla sem drugega soplesalca, s katerim sem trenirala in nadaljevala kariero v plesnem športu. Ko sem se preselila, so se stvari počasi, a vztrajno začele spreminjati. Saj mi ne bi verjeli, če bi napisala, a tedaj tega sploh nisem opazila. Usmerjal me je stran od plesa, staršev in stran od prijateljev … Govoril je, da niso dovolj dobri zame in da je takšno tudi življenje, ki sem ga živela. Počasi me je začel nagovarjati, naj spoznam, da je greh, če ženske plešejo. Prepričeval me je, da lahko živim bolj čisto življenje, če ne bom več plesala. In to je bil le začetek. Skupaj sva bila pol leta in neke noči se je zgodilo. Spoznala sem drugo osebo, ki je živela v telesu moškega, ki sem ga tako ljubila. V šali sem rekla nekaj bogokletnega o islamu. Vedeti morate, da je on enako govoril o krščanstvu, a tokrat je bilo drugače, bila sem jaz proti Alahu. Dobila sem tako močno zaušnico, da sem v svoji bolečini čutila njegovo naslado. Vpil je, da moram biti kaznovana in da je to njegova dolžnost. Ostala sem brez besed, sedela sem v kotu sobe in jokala, tisoče kilometrov stran od katerekoli druge osebe, ki jo poznam. Počutila sem se, kot bi mi vsaka mišica v telesu zmrznila, in nisem se mogla premikati. V tem trenutku sem vedela, da moram stran. A nisem šla, ostala sem.
Upala sem, da ga bom nekega dne manj ljubila, da bom imela več moči in da bom iz nekega razloga lažje zapustila človeka, ki sem mu predala vso svojo ljubezen in zaupanje. Takšni dogodki so bili sprva zelo redki, potem pa je vse to postalo tako pogosto, da ni minil niti en dan, da me ne bi udaril, vrgel na tla, butnil ob steno. Niti en pogovor ni minil brez žaljivk, kot so prostitutka, kurba in karkoli drugega, kar bi poudarilo dejstvo, da nisem bila devica, ko sva se spoznala, in da sem bila plesalka. Stran mi je vrgel tudi oblačila, ki mu niso bila všeč ali jih ni odobraval, kot so pajkice, kratki topi in vse ostalo, kar bi razkrivalo mojo postavo. Imel se je za sodobnega muslimana, ker mi bilo treba nositi hidžaba. Odraščal je z mamo in sestro, ki nista nosili hidžabov, a sta se oblačili konservativno. Njegova mama je spodbujala njegovo ravnanje in mu govorila, da meni, da se ne vedem njihovi kulturi primerno ter da me mora dresirati. Sčasoma sem se hotela zakriti, samo da bi pokrila vse svoje modrice in se skrila pred svetom. Izgubila sem voljo do življenja. Večinoma se mi je zdelo, kot da bi mi duša lebdela nad telesom in opazovala situacijo, ki je ne more občutiti. Večina ljudi ne razume, zakaj ženske ostanejo v takšnih situacijah. Tudi jaz nisem, dokler se tam nisem znašla. V to grozno zgodbo me je vlekel pravljični princ, kakršen je bil v času med nasilnimi izpadi, pripomoglo pa je tudi moje prepričanje, da bo v njem na koncu zmagala njegova dobra stran.
Resnično sem verjela, da ga lahko nekako rešim, nisem ga želela zapustiti ali z drugimi besedami pustiti, da v njem zmaga slaba stran. Hkrati pa me je prepričeval, da si česa boljšega sploh ne zaslužim. Minili sta dve leti, a storila nisem ničesar. Sram me je bilo komurkoli priznati, kaj prestajam. Vedela sem, da mi bodo vsi rekli, naj odidem, a nisem vedela, kako. Do takrat sem imela le še nekaj prijateljev. Skoraj kot pri stockholmskem sindromu je on postal moj najboljši prijatelj, saj me je edini tolažil, potem ko me je pretepel. Po naključju sta enkrat poslovno v Nemčijo prišla moja starša in pri nas ostala nekaj dni. Lepo se je vedel, a starša sta vedela, da je nekaj narobe. Videla sta, da moje življenje ne služi več drugemu, kot da ugajam njemu, in da sem izgubila tisto iskrico, ki je nekoč gorela v meni. Odločila sta se, da mi bosta pomagala, ne da bi razkrila, da vesta, kaj se dogaja. Sama sem vsa dejstva pred starši seveda skrivala, saj me je bilo sram in nisem ju hotela prizadeti z resnico o tem, kaj se z menoj dogaja. Namesto, da bi rekla, da moram takoj domov ali da se moram preseliti, sta mi kupila letalsko vozovnico do Amerike. Zato sem zdaj tu. Priložnost, da bom morda spet imela normalno življenje, daleč od njega in njegove družine, je bila dovolj, in hvala bogu sem jo izkoristila.
To se mi je zgodilo v Srednji Evropi; in to so storili ljudje, ki so videti in se oblačijo kot vi in jaz. Le predstavljam si lahko, kakšno je življenje v drugih delih sveta, kjer se do žena, sester in hčera vsi vedejo kot on ali še huje. Zgodba gre tako: Ženske s svojimi telesi moških ne smejo spraviti v skušnjavo, saj je že sama misel na spolnost greh, ženske pa so odgovorne za to, kar moški misli in počne. Da bi torej ohranili svojo najvišjo vrednoto, ki je spoštovanje, so celotno žensko populacijo prisilili, da se zakrije, namesto da bi se naučili obvladovati svoje spolne nagone in ljubosumje.
Ker je spolnost zunaj zakonske zveze grešno dejanje, večina moških, preden se poročijo, potuje v druge države zaradi seksa in prostitutk, ženske pa so ponavadi prisiljene v poroko, še preden razvijejo spolni nagon. Ženske v bistvu nimajo človekovih pravic in jih obravnavajo kot lastnino očetov, dokler ti lastnine ne prenesejo na može. Da bi v takšni miselnosti preživele, so se naučile z njo živeti, ker pa je to edini način, ki ga poznajo, v vse to prisilijo tudi svoje hčere. In tako v neskončnost. So kot ptice v kletki, ki mislijo, da je zapor zunaj. Nikoli nisem kritizirala nobene vere, toda dejstvo, da islam vse to dopušča, pomeni, da je z njim nekaj zelo narobe. Ne obsojam muslimanov, a s svojo zgodbo in mnogimi drugimi, verjetno hujšimi od moje, želim pomagati svetu, da se spremeni na bolje. Moje misli so z ženskami v Afganistanu, ki trepetajo pred radikalnim islamom; molim za vaše odrešenje, svobodo in mir. Lahko me sovražite, ker sem drugačna, a jaz sem imela izbiro, ve pa ne. Sem le zagovornica tega, da bi tudi ve imele izbiro. Upam, da bo svet prepoznal vaše težave in vam bo pomagal kadarkoli, kjerkoli in kolikor je le mogoče. Ne vem, kaj drugega bi lahko storila za te ženske. Vem, da vam te objave verjetno ne bodo dovolili prebrati, ker ne smete imeti profilov na družbenih omrežjih, a hočem, da veste, da z vsem srcem mislim na vas in DA si zaslužite boljše!
I have been contemplating writing about this for a couple of years now but recent world events boosted my courage to share this horrific story. Hopefully it educates and prevents other women to get caught in the same trap but at the same time to teach people and help them understand how desperate women in the Middle East and all around the World are. Most of the women themselves don’t even know it. It was year 2015, the fift year in a row that I had won the national title in Latin American dancing in Serbia. My job was to train myself everyday of the week and compete all over the world every other weekend. Safe to say I had big goals and life was good. That Summer I had fallen in love, perhaps for the first time. For the first time in my life I felt like I was loved by a man that would do anything for me and I would have done anything for him.
We had met on a competition after-party and even though we lived countries away from each other we kept talking and soon started visiting each other. It took me a while to realize that he was there by coincidence, he wasn’t a part of the dance crowd that I have been around ever since I was born. My parents owned and still own a dance studio where I literally grew up and most people I met would have had the same mentality. Months on end my life was a fairytale and I soon moved to Germany to be closer to him. I had found a different dance partner to train with and continue pursuing my dancesport career. After I moved things slowly but surely started changing, you wouldn’t believe it if I told you, but for me at a time unnoticeably. I was guided away from my dancing, away from my parents, away from my friends,.. I was told that they’re not good for me and nor is the life I had lived. I was slowly trained to believe that it is sinful for women to dance. I was trained to believe that there is a purer life for me to live if I was never to dance again. And that was just the start of it. We were 6 months in and one night it happened. I had met the other person living inside the body of the man I had loved. In a joking matter I said something blasphemic about Islam. Keep in mind, he would do the same thing talking about Christianity, but this time it was different, it was me against Allah. He hit me across my face so hard that I could feel his pleasure in my pain. He shouted that I deserve to be punished and that it is his dutey of doing so. I was speechless, sitting in the corner of the room sobbing, thousands of miles away from any other person I knew. I felt like every muscle in my body just froze and I could not move. In that moment I knew I had to leave. But I didn’t, I stayed. Hoping that one day I would love him less, I would have more strength, or that for some reason it would be easier to leave the man I have poured all of my love and faith into. Episodes like that were very rare at first but then became so frequent that not a day went by without me getting punched, thrown on the ground, smashed into a wall and not a conversation went by without me being called names such as prostitute, hore, and anything else that would point out the fact that I wasn’t a virgin and that I was a dancer. He would also throw away pieces of clothing that he did not like or approve of such as leggings, crop tops or anything that showed off my figure. He thought of himself as a modern Muslim because he did not make me wear a hijab. He grew up with a mother and sister that did not wear hijabs but would dress conservatively. His mother encouraged his behavior towards me and told him if she felt like I wasn’t behaving appropriately for their culture in which case he would have to whip me into shape. With time I wanted to cover myself just to hide all the bruises and to hide from the world. I had lost the will for life. For the most part I fell like my soul was hovering over my body and observing the situation that it could not bare to feel. Most people don’t understand why do women in situations like these stay. I didn’t either until I was in it. The glue of this horror story was his fairytale prince changing personality between the raging violent episodes and my naive belief that the good wolf within him could one day win. I truly believed that I could save him somehow and I wasn’t ready to leave a man behind or in other words let the bad wolf within him win. But at the same time he made me believe I wasn’t worthy of anything better. Two years had passed and I had done nothing. I was ashamed to tell anyone what I was going through. I knew that everyone would have told me to leave and I didn’t know how. But by then I had barely any friends left. It was nearly like a Stockholm syndrome where he became my best friend because he was the only one around to comfort me after he had hurt me. It wasn’t until on random my parents had to come to Germany for work and stayed with us for a couple of days. He had behaved himself but my parents knew something was wrong. They saw that I have no purpose in life other than pleasing him and that I have lost my light that used to be a fire burning with passion for life. They chose to help me without exposing the fact that they knew what was going on. I obviously kept it a secret from my parents because I truly was ashamed and I did not want to hurt them by telling them the truth of what was happening to me. Instead of telling me I have to come home immediately or demanding some sort of move on my part they bought me a ticket to go to America. That is why I am here. A glimpse of possibly having a normal life once again far away from him and his family was my chance to get out and thank God I took it. This happened to me in Central Europe, done by people that look and dress like you and me. I can only imagine what is the world like in other parts of the world where every man and woman acts like him or worse towards their wives, sisters and daughters. The narrative is that man should not be tempted by a woman’s body since it is considered sinful to even think about sex and women are held responsible for what men think or do. So basically to retain their highest value which is respect, they took it out on the entire population of women to hide themselves instead of learning how to control their sexual urges and jealousy. Since it is sinful to have sex outside of marriage most men before they want to get married travel to other countries for sex and prostitutes and the women are usually forced to get married even before they have a sex drive. Women basically have no human rights they are treated as possession owned by their fathers until passed on to their husbands. To survive in that mentality they learnd to live with it and then because it is the only way they know, they enforce it on their own daughters. It is an endless Circle. They are the birds in the cage thinking Outside is the prison. Now I never spoke badly of any religion, but the fact that Islam allows this to happen there is something deeply wrong with it. I am not judgmental of Muslim people but I want my story and many others, probably way worse than mine, to help the world to change for the better. My heart goes out to the women in Afghanistan afraid of radical Islam, I pray for your salvation, freedom and peace. You may hate me because I am different, but I had a choice, you didn’t. I’m just an advocate for you to have a choice. I pray for the world to recognize your needs and to help whenever, wherever and however possible. I don’t know what else to do for these women, I know you will probably not come across this post since you are likely not even allowed to have social media but I want you to know that my heart goes out to you and you DO deserve better!
