Introduction to "Daughter of Southern Yunnan: I was tricked into marrying far away at the age of eighteen, but I escaped after giving birth to a child"
When I was 18 years old, I was still chasing butterflies in the terraced fields of southern Yunnan, my fingertips were stained with Dai brocade incense, and the bamboo tube rice cooked by my grandmother was steaming-but I was tricked out of the mountain by a matchmaker who said, "There are white buns everywhere in the north, and my husband's family is extremely rich."
Outside the bumpy green train, the green hills faded into loess, and the scent of grass and trees was replaced by the choking wind and sand. When I arrived in a northern village, I realized that "brick and tile houses" are low adobe houses, and "enjoying happiness" means being restricted by "rules". During the day, my parents-in-law went to the fields, and I was left in the room staring at the loess. My mother-in-law scolded me, and my husband was silent. Resistance would only lead to stricter supervision. Without phone calls or acquaintances, the camellias in southern Yunnan can only be seen in my dreams. I am like a trapped bird, with only longing for company.
It wasn't until she got pregnant that her husband's family softened their attitude - just to protect "the roots of the family line." Holding An An, who was waiting for food, I secretly vowed: I must take him home. In those years, I endured the difficulties, hid the change I had saved for living frugally, and turned the thought of my grandma's pickled cakes into the motivation to save for travel expenses. The winter snow in the north cannot bury the return journey, and the years of suffering cannot destroy hope.
Finally, holding on to my ten years of savings, I carried An An on my way home. When the water vapor of the Lancang River and the fragrance of grass and trees linger again, and when my mother greets me with tears at the entrance of the village, the suffering is finally a thing of the past. Now, I have opened a Dai brocade workshop in my hometown, and I have regained my skills at my fingertips. An An is running around wearing the peacock skirt I embroidered, and my hands, roughened by the wind and sand, have finally embroidered flowers.
This is the rebirth I fought for with maternal love and obsession. If you have ever been trapped in darkness and believe that persistence can break the shackles, you might as well click on it to see how girls from Yunnan
