Herman Kamarudin
The story of how I got played eventually ended up ruining my life through and through
It was doom’s day like every day in my life — that 30th August 2020 when the pandemic is after its beginning. I rethought the day in my head over and over again. I felt so overwhelmingly stupid and uncannily crazy for making a move.
What kind of stupid move started all this? Let me tell you from the start. Bear with me, this story is short but long, romantic but pathetic, and basic but unusual. As contradicting as that is, I dare say that at the end of reading this, you will comprehend that a woman is a creature of such — simple but complicated. Pure but disgusting. Toxic but remedies.
Herman was a schoolmate back in 1994. He was 13 and I was 14. I first laid my eyes on him and I fell for his face. He was sweet looking for a boy. However, at the time, one of my girlfriends likes him too and told me about it. So, being a teenager from a broken family, who would rather not compete in anything, especially with a friend, I suppressed my feelings and didn’t make any move at all. He didn’t notice me anyway, I knew. I was not an ill-looking girl and I fairly gets admiration from other boys too, but I spent my teenage days looking at him. Since my life already had so many more other problems at home at the time, I wouldn’t want to start more trouble — with my life and with my girlfriend at the time by making a move to befriend him, I thought. Yes, that was how insecure I was and sadly even now I am still so insecure in many ways — but who isn’t?
That was it but not end just there. That period of likeness I had for him, remains as wonderment, however, hope for love does end there though. My teenage life took over, lost my virginity at age of 16 to another boy who just wanted to play — who left me after I swore my heart and body to him and I survived the first suicide I took because I was appalled with myself, and that molded me, into somehow, within a year — a troubled escort girl. Yes, I was recruited and flattered to agree to come on board because I thought I had lost myself, and being seductive gives me that power of control — at least it made me feel like I was in control, and why am I recruited? I was told that because I was an A student at school, so I have the natural directives to nail this kind of life — I seriously know topics hence I was great for an executive client type, it made me feel worthy at the time, I was told I am not a bad-looking girl — but I was skinny almost with no boobs and that was okay because Kate Moss was on the rise at the time so I was perfect to the sugar mommies to pimp me for exclusive clubs, and I had a way with language, rather witty so they kept me and I was treated expensively.
I stumbled upon Herman again in 1997, took his virginity, and left him hanging — he said I broke his heart.
I continued to work as an escort girl — I’d like to think I was very successful; never been picked by rough clients, always chosen as a dancer or a masseuse instead of as the main doll being grilled up. I worked my way through university, and landed a job as a full-time nightclub vocalist — didn’t even know I could sing that good, I had a lot of money — have no idea what I did with my money though if you ask me. I was a very successful lead vocalist, my singing voice was mesmerizing and divine, and I was a natural performer — this part of talent I was most narcissistic about and still am.
Well, that episode may sound some kind like a dark glory but just another doom story yet so important to keep in your mind while reading this to comprehend a bit of my psyche. So, let’s get back on a lengthy elaboration about how I got played by Herman.
The Ex-Husband — read this then you will understand the pain I endure after realizing Herman has played me a fool. Big time!
I am not an easy girl to like a guy. In my life, I have lost all trust in men. Never felt beautiful or nice about myself, all I know is men are monsters. They all have two heads but forever a gender that could only function with that one head they have in their pants — that’s my mentality that I could be in control of, negativity was hard to be shaken as I have grown too deep with it.
From an exclusive escort girl, I pedestal myself as a performer and had abstinence. Unfortunately, I turned to substances and was never sober. Throughout my singing career, it was a period of life in that I felt pure and clean. High, of course. However, protected from men. I love that period of life. Although as time passed, that life made me very lonely. Substance never really did help at all in that area anymore. High felt like sobered. Eventually, I quit singing because I was bored. I got a job in an office as a receptionist. I continued my tertiary education and made friends with a guy who worked at the same office. One, he was— not a client, and two, he was not old.
We befriended each other, then coupled, and had sex. All the same; men, I was not impressed but I appreciated his showing care. I lived almost normally, on the outside. My feelings inside remain. Feelings of unworthy and dirty.
However, I always know I want to live like a normal person as my siblings have. It consumed me so much that I just slide my unsettled wants. I have no idea what I want in my life because I thought I was undeserving of a kind life.
I hardly knew why I ever agreed to marry him in my 30th year of life. Yes, he showed care, a lot more than I thought I deserved. He was an addict though so I caved into that common ground with him and stayed. That’s probably why I ever not use protection with him while allowing sexual intercourse, he was the first guy who ever knocked me up with pregnancy because he was so sweet and gentle he made me forget about the control pills. I knew I didn’t even fall for him, for him but for the way he treats me. He was always around ready to woo me with gracious greetings. He asked how my day was. Didn’t run his eyes to my chest ever while talking to me. I got pregnant and I silently aborted it.
What’s more to say? I was stupid. Then, I told him about it and his reaction to the news was slapping my face so hard till my ear rang — yes, physically — he slapped me hard to bruise. I didn’t replay how cruel that part of happenings in my brain, as never anybody had ever bruised me, not even any clients I had when I was an escort girl ever bruised me. You see, I knew I conceived, I did not tell him and had an abortion myself. That was all on me, but the bruise he gave? I did not know I was beyond stupid to ignore his reaction to this.
My brain stop functioning I guess because I still stay with him and he still came back to me every day — no rough intercourse though, and he did not leave me alone every after fucks and he still cared for me, to see if I have enough to wear, he was always there by my side, made sure I ate well, he always paid for me on whatever and provided for me though he knows I am well capable to pay for myself, take care of after each hangover, he listens to my worries and responded greatly to my dreams and interests — all the more I appreciate him and forgets about the bruise he ever gave me.
Then I found out that I was pregnant again. Brace yourself. This was a red flag that he was even more monstrous than the clients that ever booked a minor escort girl. He gave the okay to the doctor to proceed with an abortion.
Laugh now, I am about to tell you that after that, we conceived again and he gave another okay to the doctor to abort the pregnancy. A total of three abortions while we were together. One abortion was on me, and I got beaten by him. Looking as if he made me think he opposed abortion strongly. The other two abortions, I then realized; he was just not ready. Why did I still stay with him? I was weak and lonely and high all the time too.
After a while, he proposed and wants to take me as his wife no matter how unworthy I thought I was. So this may sound like he was not as much of a monstrous man as I thought he was. Yes, I was flattered and blinded.
We got married — what did I decipher this as was? I am not a reject. Almost injected me with higher self-esteem back then, but nope. Marriage life was hard. I am not cut out for it, for sure. Heck, like dropping an atomic bomb on my life— brought my self-esteem, even more, lower than the lowest I ever felt, lowest than when I was an escort girl.
Indirect pressures from his family to get pregnant again, I finally managed my first pregnancy but I was a bit clever about how a wife should be praised, appreciated, and treated. I demanded that but every time. However, again and again, I was reminded of my previous life — thank you, husband — in the most sarcastic way he can, which made me feel lower every day as his wife. He forbid me from working in the office or anywhere, profusely demand I should stop anything ever in music, deny my talent as a singer, and forced me to stay home and be just a mother and a welcoming wife to open my legs whenever needed. No, I swear he is not all monsters at being a husband, but he is a monster in every feeling a woman needs to be attended to.
Despite all this emotional abuse, I never stop being grateful as I lurk my way back to God. As a husband and a father now, he provides steadfastly and works very hard. He upgraded our life and was able to give a lot of wealth to me and our child. So, I ignored the way he purposely treated my feelings and needs with negligence. I said to myself, that could be my karma so I repudiate him in my heart but stayed with the flow where he takes me in this life course, not because I trusted but because I was disappointed and thought this is the end of a woman’s life and I finally have society validation. I did relive again the suicidal thoughts every day like back when I lost my virginity. I had to pierce a fork into my wrist to feel physical pain so that I could endure the invisible pain of manning the household feeling lonelier than lonely. I always managed to put back the knife away and choose a fork or very not-so-sharp kids’ toys and thrust it to my wrist. I always managed to wake up and stop swallowing more paracetamol pills and throw out that full palm of paracetamol in the bin. Pretend I just had cured my headache and needed no more.
Story cut short, I hope those who read this up till here can comprehend my state of being, my mental state, and my doom fate.
After successfully having three children in 12 years of marriage, rebounded from one post-partum depression to another. Why do I have post-partum depression after each pregnancy? Oh, that’s another novel.
I survived being superficially smiley but sick in the mind. I was a cruel mother. Emotional abuse led me to physically abuse my children during their first five years of life. That made me cry every time because I never wanted to hurt them and ruin their childhood. I worked very hard every 9 months since I had my babies in my tummy. I recite Quran every day and night for each pregnancy, begging God that they won’t have a life like mine. I thank God every time until now that the babies were well breastfed, weaned, and greatly taken care of by hygiene. I am so fabulous for that part as a mother. Though the abusing part I have never renounced from though, and have always wanted to travel back in time and rather have them with me eloping to another country. Perhaps if I was stronger enough, that could take place and I could save my life forward and my babies. I settled myself with lots of self-help books and clinic therapy. I have become better at loving them after they start preschool and handled preschoolers’ crises in the most professional way a mother could be.
Oh, but I am always proud of the other side of me as a mother — a beautiful moment every woman should experience. If you saw my children how grew beautifully smart, witty, and mature, although you can see how broken they are in some aspects of life view, I have managed to teach them about what a good life is to them, to be grateful to have a father who is never around because he provides, never have I said anything bad to inject any kind of bad perception regards to their father and all the relatives around them that mocks my being and adds to my depression through coping a normal life. As normal as what society demands. I am stubborn in accepting what they think was normal and I blamed myself for not being able to rise above my ill mental state. I have always believed that I should love myself but I have never managed to do that for myself until now.
Before the pandemic started, I did find that strength as my bank accounts compiled slowly, I decided to go and seek life elsewhere. I planned and was ready for what to pack to take my kids with me because they have all grown into primary students and I know I can manage them well on my own because my heart found that confounding point that was so focused and determined just for the babies.
Then the pandemic hits. A lock-down. Travel restriction.
I felt trapped. I felt punished by God. I felt I am not worthy of the good life and do not deserve a clean repented life. I got lost again in my goals. I just numb my brain and go each day as it goes by.
Then I started to sell online. I have always steered away from social media because it made my depression goes unruly. However, being within the biz mommies who seem so clean in their life that they are so unknowingly of the dark side of the other world, made me feel like I was one of them too.
One thing triggered my hatred though, they all seem to have a loving man in their life, or at least to my perception, a loving husband who presses ‘like’ and ‘comment’ with supportive words in every posting they upload. Pathetic much? For feeling this feeling? For thinking this way of thinking? Yup!
Even though I successfully maintain my composure — whatever is left of it. I didn’t swerve to my emotions for too long, I managed good sales, and add up good numbers to my bank account. Able to purchase things on my own openly to my husband and need not verify where I got the money from as he knows I sell online.
Herman Kamarudin.
I found him online and dare not ‘friend’ him but I stalked his photo and that brings me a smile every time. Seeing how sweet his face still is. You can logically conclude that I am not insane enough because I did not initiate any move because who wants to go back to 1994 and admitted their love when they know that was just illogical? I am almost that sane actually. I am almost that smart at that time still. Almost brilliant that I never had in me to click any kind of engagement. Until I saw his taste in music and his love for the gym.
Yes. Seriously. I thought maybe all this while in such a surreal parallel line of life — he had things in common with my interest. Working out — loving gym exercises, being musically instrument talented, and listening to heavy metal music.
Damn. I clicked that ‘like’ button. He clicked ‘add friend’. I clicked ‘accept friend’. He texted. I replied. He asked to meet. I said yes. It was that dangerously simple. However fond I am about his being in the past, I am still convinced that he was just a man in my mentality. Remember back to what I said about my mentality in men are just a gender with two heads but function with one head only in their pants?
My biggest damned mistake at hand was:
- I opened up this friendship so naively honest about myself. I was always promiscuously naughty in conversations with no intention of being cheap. I was just so sublimely naïve but perverted. I am not being cheap because I know what cheap means and I am not cheap. That I have grown withdrawn in my life. I want to be so expensive and let not anybody knows the low life history that I have, which made me so unsociable socially the correct way.
- I met him and as I again laid my eyes on him, I melted. I forget God and let Satan embrace me. I thought why not have him once for fun and then get off easily because I know I am capable of that? Moreover, sex has been bland, why not just once and let this be a memory? My life is already doomed anyway. Yes, Satan won.
Where is the romantic part!!?!! Is there ever?
The first meet-up. Herman just did want to meet to have an actual talk. To converse and catch up. He just wants to buy me lunch. Despite the naughty me in the chats we had before having this first-time meet-up — a lunch. We had a real lunch. We ate food.
He made it obvious that he want to have a conversation. He did not look at me with lust. He is not perverted. He did not run his eyes to my chest or my lips while biting his lips. He looks at me as if the looks like a respected friend and eats lunch honestly because he just wanna have lunch with me. I fell again. Melted. I didn’t hear that the therapist had concluded: Kate, you are going back to a pattern.
After lunch, he and I parted ways, saying happy goodbye and I have smitten, mostly because of all the truth he opens up about all the happenings in his life. He admitted that he got married because he fucked a virgin then she got pregnant so he wanted to be responsible. He did not say he fell in love with her. Of course, eventually, he loves her and tells her that every day.
Oh dear, you will have a say in your mind now, as you read this.
“She is not cheap but she is cheap to fall just for this matter. Kate? Again?”
“She forgets to learn. She never learned. She is stupid!”
He ‘like’ all my sales postings. He texted every night. Interactively, he laughs at my promiscuous jokes and he seems not to take them seriously and say words of admiration. I thought, oh well. This could be harmless. He asked to meet again. I said yes, again. Damned. You can guess now, right? So should we allow my bipolar personality disorder (yes, I am diagnosed) to overthink this and point out whose fault? A normal real person wouldn’t, right?
- The second time we meet. I was still determined that this is just for fun, so I thought, let’s have him at least once. I am married. He is married. No harm just once. This is a good fling. Men is a man, of course, he then agreed to come to a motel because I persuaded him to. I thought I am a player playing nice and sincere but he is a player pretending nice and sincere.
- I was so in awe of how shy he was, I have forgotten that he was a shy boy the first time I had him back in 1997 and that made me smile. Importantly, I have forgotten to ask bout his wife. Feeling elated and impulsively dumb, I invited him to come and take me in. Yes, now — scholars! Say it out loud — IT IS KATE’S FAULT!!!
- He was shy. Very shy. Did not jump straight away on me. The bed is there. He sits at the dresser. When he finally comes to the bed, I started the move. I knew in my mind and with all my experience serving men, this gonna be a short one, because all men all talk but not up to 2 minutes. Should I stop writing this online and humiliate my already low life?
Please do not degrade the word ‘shy’ anymore. It is a criterion he honestly has and he used him at advantage against weaklings like me.
Let’s skip humiliating myself. Wise. Scholar! — Tell me again about how the Quran says, told you Satan is an enemy. I am so sorry for myself.
Just go about the romantic but pathetic part. Yeah, right.
He kissed me for 10 minutes before actually running his hands everywhere. He lets me lead. He moans and asks what he wants. What did he want? Well, I usually receive requests to serve in the past but he asks to serve me! 45 minutes passed, and he served till I came! I was thirsty for being served. Then 45 minutes after, he came. Do I figure that I get to be on top for that long minutes? Not at all. He is a shocker. What?! Also, he was longer than most men I had ever been with, physically — bigger too, and lasted longer timely. Romantic but pathetically not proud of how I categorized this as romantic. I need to jail myself and stay in prison my whole lifetime. I think so whenever I overthink this part. Oh dear, pardon me. As a former professional prostitute, I can’t help to enjoy timing him. He was amazing!
At this point on, when I thought about how cheap I am but called on not being cheap, I have become one, so cheap, so unknowingly dumb, and such an idiot. As I cursed myself over and over and over for this moment whenever I overthink that about the day.
Did I want to repent and stop meeting after that? Remains friends — being just normal like I am always able to because men are monsters and have never shaken that principle? Yes!
Alas, not with Herman. So I hate myself for that. I was so blindly stupid — I thought I was smart. I tested him with many failed invites but he was not shaken, not stirred. Still befriended me, naturally respectful. Managed to text me every night, every day, during peak hours, not during booty-call hours! Care for me on social media — not worrying about a thing for the public to see, never failing to ‘like’ my sale postings, ‘comment’ like he has no worries, taking the effort to click ‘like’ on each picture I uploaded in each sale postings like he has no bad intentions to play me whatsoever, just an honest online friend. I was so hoodwinked by all these sweet gestures because I never had them ever! I was so tailwind by all this attention! The foreplay and the making love — damn, he is always great to me on that. Is this romantic enough? L.O.L. Yes, R.O.T.F.L.O.L. due to overdrawn stupidity.
Yes, please shout to my ear until I am deaf that I am so stupid! STUPID!
After all greatly gentlemanly criteria, he has shown effortlessly — mind you, I have never had any man who hooks up with me, be it a client or mere boyfriend or even my husband (now an ex) looking for my hands to hold, hug me, kiss me in the mouth in public ever! He did that. Effortlessly and naturally showers me with lots of attention. I am blinded and have forgotten that he has a wife and family. He says ‘I love you.’ every time and always searched for my face while we were having a drive.
I was so stupid and naïve in a way that not-so-naïve girls can be. We made love, he says. I, for once; understood willingly that this is how making love is different than having sex. He played me. Romantic is a name of the game he titled.
I had a hefty bank account when I decided to agree to let him have me on his birthday. He requested so sweetly and almost begging so that I can celebrate with him. I am not a person without integrity in making crimes. The crime omitted must be done in honesty. Yeah, I am that twisted.
I asked my husband to divorce me. I left my kids. I went away with Herman. Celebrate his birthday. Using my money. He didn’t offer to pay once! How did I not see I am being played? Herman is a player and he knows this game perfectly well and I am his new weak lamb.
Bits to chunks, my bank account is used up gradually but surely and I am blindly not seeing it. In our relationship, I felt so loved. He pours attention on me and caresses me ever so gently. I was so flattered. He serves me and beds me. He compliments me and shows the public he wants to hold my hand. Hug me while walking side by side. Fed each other in public at the restaurant, every time, every day, without fail. Wow, so many activities — whose money? MINE. Am I not a giving person? I am. I don’t care about money because I am always careful with my money. I spent on him because he treats me with an assurance that we are to wed. He promised me and I believed him. All this time, he use his time for me like he can have another wife.
Why am I so stupid? Or rather; not a why we are looking for here but how!
I can’t believe I am so stupid, again and again, and again — Herman keeps on using me like he doesn’t care how hard it was for me to earn my wealth — he knew I was poor and I worked hard for my life to be comfortable. I feel he knew but he doesn’t care! He kept on taking from me.
He stole my ATM card while I slept and acted as if nothing happened. I was so already in love with him, so blind, I just want him to tell me the truth and repented and keep being sincere — what kind of relationship that he kept on preaching to me, I was hoping he did what he preached about. No, he was just a damn player. Up to play me to the end of the world because he knew my weakness! He knew I am so weak as I am already so deeply in hope for him to be in my life.
He used me so well. He got me on his feet begging for his attention. When I reacted in aggression towards it, he fought back and gaslight me to turn around like I am the one at fault!
I admit I am aggressive when I am mad but he made me mad in the first place! Ultimately, to what mere extent that a meek woman like me can be off as aggressive? Who would ever want to use the people they love, if they really love, THEY WILL WANT TO GIVE — not take, right? Who would ever ignore the people they love? Truly — I felt so bummed whenever I reminisce about the sweetness he smoldered me with, at the end all he wants is just his way of making his life easier.
Hardly any evidence he wants to seriously weds me. He doesn’t care about my feeling about that promise he made to me. When I pressured him and claim all my rights as a human being — he jumps and screamed at me. He even swears at me!
He takes everything from me until I am flat broke — wants the car that purchase using my name for his use — he never wants to share. The car is an obvious sign he just wants an easy way to provide for his family and use me for it. He never wants to introduce me to his family — he is scared of his ugly wife! His wife is pretty actually but has a damn ugly personality — she is the worst woman I have ever met in my life — she knows her husband is using me through and through but she kept on swearing at me, calling me bad names, and yells at me like I am rubbish — she has no heart to pity other human beings.
All she knows is her husband brings back money — she surely knows it’s my money! She has no feeling embarrassed about her sad greedy life! There was this one whole day that Herman ignored me, switched off his phone — My crazy mind cannot take it anymore I went to his house and his wife opened up the door, I asked the wife to get the car key and so that I can take it back — Yes, Herman said to me to buy a car under my name and he promised that he will then tell his wife about me — guess what? HE DIDN’T and in fact, he just use the car for his family flaunting it as if it was his. Come back to the point where I was at his house knocking slowly at first — the wife opened the door and then screamed, yelled at me bad names, and worst ever! She threw water at me. I had to beg her to get Herman to see me at the door. I became a crazy woman and cried there at their doorstep. Herman never cared. I have no idea that he can be that ill-intention man and I was so stupid for listening to his good words and falling for his charms. Fake, all was fake. He is the biggest fraud I ever met in my life!
