I forgot I was Beautiful

 

I miss smiling; like a genuine smile that comes from your feet and passes through your body, exploding  through your heart and shows forth on your lips but your eyes carry all the shine; the type of smile that people ask you “what is funny?” or “What is doing this one?” The type of smile that you can’t explain yet you know it in your mind that the sun is shining and that’s good enough for you.

I miss writing; I miss being overwhelmed by an emotion and pouring it out through my fingers, typing or writing on ‘paper’ for others to read and maybe feel what I did too (or criticize me but at least they read it)

**To those who check my blog often I’m truly sorry I haven’t posted in a while, forgive me.

I miss spreading out my makeup, basking in the euphoria of having so much colour and products around me then sweeping my magic brushes across someone’s face; making her even more beautiful. I miss the joy that glows, when she can’t put down the mirror because she can’t believe the confirmation of her beauty in her reflection.

I miss ‘easy’; when I didn’t worry a guy was playing me or trying to waste my time; when I could actually enjoy watching a movie without being afraid of how those two hours could be used for something else; when I didn’t worry that a friend wasn’t loyal; when I didn’t worry about being able to WIN!

I miss being able to enjoy the rain and appreciate how it helps things grow but rather I worry how I would get wet on my way to work because I don’t have a car; I miss being able to eat my favourite things without worrying of the consequences and I miss being able to pray, to think with a clear mind and not be consumed with negative thoughts of my unworthiness.

And although I don’t remember the process but I know for a truth a slow and firm change occurred and stole me away. I allowed life and its inevitable experiences to make me forget that despite all, I AM BEAUTIFUL; me and all that I am about. Not just the physical or superficial beauty but one that can be described as ‘good spirit’.

I told a friend recently “Everything is trying to kill you! Even the person inside you is trying to kill you!” He laughed and didn’t agree but that is exactly how I felt at the time; something was really trying to stifle me and kill me before I was truly dead.

So I’m re-learning to smile and not worry about what the next person thinks of my bent big front tooth, Lol! I’m re-learning that bad situations and feelings don’t last that long except I choose to nurse it and grow it till I can’t control it.

I’m re-learning to simply enjoy how expressing my talents bring joy to others. I’m learning how to enjoy rides in a taxi or commercial tricycle (Keke) because at least I don’t have to walk such long distances (and believe me almost all Keke drivers are ridiculously funny) because I can afford transportation.

I’m also re-learning to get up and DO WHAT NEEDS TO BE DONE!! NOBODY is to blame for what did or didn’t work out. To stop contradicting myself; to stop being dramatic about my experiences and to FOCUS on the right thing per time.

I talk to myself a lot more nowadays; I tell myself that I’m doing ok…..actually I’m doing great. If I could just RELAX, know what is right for me and go for that; and above all God loves me; I forget that too often so I settle for what I think is good enough for me, ignoring what is the greatest.

The old me isn’t dead; we’ve met a few times recently and she is still the coolest and a little crazy! Lool! But she is older, wiser, stronger and yes STILL very beautiful with a healthy ego too!

When what you don’t see makes you blind

I looked up and couldn’t see anything, I blinked a few times but nothing had changed, it was still dark

I held my head in my hands and wept, body racking sobs because I knew “this wasn’t it!”

..…Yesterday I could see clearly, there was light; I believed I was going somewhere and even though the path wasn’t always clear, I had strength, I had plans and most importantly I had hope.

Yet today I have been side tracked, blinded by a raging fear of the unknown; “What if I fail?”, “What if I make a grave mistake?”, “what if they laugh at me?”, “What if I disappoint my family?”, “What if I never recover from this fall?”

 Questions and more questions sprang up; ugly scenarios and pictures of the worst that could be. And slowly they took over my mind until I believed every lie and saw myself as incompetent; already a failure even before I tried anything.

I heard my heart beat in my ears and several times I believed my heart would stop because of the intensity with which it worked. I still couldn’t see anything; fear had rendered me completely without vision and unable to make my way forward so I stayed rooted in one spot and even though I complained and longed for more I didn’t get it because I did nothing!

And then someone said “what’s the worst that could happen?” I almost laughed for lack of a better way to respond because I thought “hasn’t it already?!” But slowly I realized that I can’t seem to be able to describe what this “worst case” is; I couldn’t narrate to another person what the problem truly was or why I was so afraid and it hit me that I had totally forgotten all I had ever succeeded at in the past simply because I had slowly but firmly allowed fear make me blind!

So I prayed (and cried a few more times) but I got up from the spot and decided to move (at whatever pace I could handle); I also told myself that if I had failed at all I ever did in my life then I most likely won’t be at the place I am now (a place some people have even confessed to envying).

Fear possesses the power we relinquish to it so I’ll keep walking, on days I fall then I’ll crawl but I HAVE to move or else it may kill me; I’ve learnt the hard way that being static because of fear is one of the worst things to experience.  And on days I have ‘a major burst of faith’ I’ll jump off the cliff because I believe one of these three things will happen: God would give me wings to fly (send an angel or massive bird to catch me if He knows I won’t flap my wings before I hit the ground); He’ll cushion my landing; or would allow me fall, get hurt (yet not to the point of death so I’ll learn my lessons) then heal me quickly and I’ll be better for it!

Hold a hand (maybe worry about where it’s been later)

Being alone hurts, I don’t necessarily mean the absence of an intimate or marital relationship but being alone physically and emotionally and you know there is no one to pick up the phone and call because the people you know are too busy, they won’t be patient enough to understand or they just don’t care!

This is specifically real to those who have had to be the ‘strong one’ in almost all their relationships (with family, friends and partners); who on some days just NEED to be the ones at the receiving end of affection and encouragement but yet can’t get it; like the world forgets they are human and don’t feel the need to express or share emotion.

Besides the strong ones, there are people who genuinely have no one and in the midst of the crowd they are usually the life of the party; making people double over in rib cracking laughter but do you ever wonder what happens when the lights are out and they are alone in their room wondering if they would ever experience the gift of knowing at least one person cares about their existence and sees beyond the well mastered smile.

I’ve felt alone before (more times than I dare to recall) and I know what it’s like to not want to go home when you know the party/hang out is coming to an end, or when a new friendship is losing its initial excitement (because you once hoped this person may be the exception) or to even not just feel like praying because for once you feel the need to speak to a human being you can see and not the God who lives in your heart (no offence but you get what I’m saying).

I’ve never had answers to the questions that come up when I’m in this place of being alone and sometimes afraid but all I know is I often heal, maybe not wholly but at least enough not to be hopeless and believe I have to just get up and move on. I also try to ‘get over myself’ and focus on something or someone else (this isn’t always easy, believe!). And this brings me to the question…….how many of us really stop to think of the ‘real’ reason behind that friend’s text, ping or email? Or why that friend or brother is always the one who gives all the support, I mean who makes them believe in themselves or happy the way they make you?

It’s easy to fall into a comfortable pattern of receiving from family and friends but when do you give? Someone once said it’s not such a bad thing when people take you for granted because it means they trust you or you’re dependable but really there is only so much a human being can take (that is why we are not God, we don’t possess His infinite powers to be divinely strong every day and even God has feelings).

So stop for a minute and genuinely ask how someone is doing; and if they reach out to you 10-15 minutes to pay attention to them isn’t too much- it’s not always the money or great advice you offer that matters, sometimes the fact that you gave your time and allowed them express whatever they need to is enough. It involves sacrifice; hold back on your own needs for a second to hear what someone else is saying; a gentle touch on the shoulder or squeeze of the hand may be reassuring enough; smile at a friend even when your own day isn’t going so great because you may never know if your kind gesture would squash their thoughts of sadness and in extreme cases suicide.

Be the reason someone has hope and sincerely smiles………

DIY Therapy: What I learnt about Giving

Lately I’ve been thinking about ‘my heart condition’ which inevitably often leads me to think of my relationship with family, friends, strangers and even God. I also wondered if I genuinely know how to love or if I’ve just mastered a habit of being nice, generous and tolerant because I have a conscience or because the world sees this as good and acceptable.

It’s often easier to assume that to prevent constant hurt after being rejected, disappointed, angry, betrayed or disrespected is to keep to yourself and not give people a chance to take you for granted or throw their evil card at you but I doubt that’s the essence of relationships or life! I’ve gone through the ‘cynical phase’ a number of times and I realise that every time I’ve allowed myself sink to this place, I actually lose a piece of me when I eventually walk out of the hole so I’ve learnt that though you can’t avoid hurt, it’s best not to expect it yet let go when it happens.

Few weeks ago I saw the Tyler Perry Movie ‘For Colored Girls’ for like the 3rd and a quarter time (I often skip parts of the movie so can’t really count how many times I’ve seen it). Anyway what kept going through my mind was “this isn’t just for colored girls, this is for the whole world!” Every character had deliberately tried to become numb to all they were going through and most likely promised it would never happen again but the truth is they were hurting and as well had to endure a vicious cycle of painful experiences; giving up their heart, their sensitivity and ultimately a healthy ability to love or love the right way.

All humans, especially women are created with a capacity to express emotion, trying to withdraw or become immune will only help you lose touch with reality and at the end of the day stop you from knowing how to receive and consequently  give the true love we actually crave for in the first place. And when someone wants to genuinely share affection we automatically go into ‘No feeling/battle zone’; eyes on fire, thick walls over our hearts; titanium protective suit comes on and our guns are blazing ready to be fired into the heart of the one who is NOT our enemy!

We can shift the blame to other people and situations; “gave too much leverage in a relationship”, “wasn’t given what I was promised or expected”, “didn’t receive love as a child”, “I have to be strong because no one else will for me” etc. I don’t discredit the effect of these issues on our heart and I know avoiding bitterness isn’t easy however, have we stopped to love ourselves powerfully enough to decide to rise above these issues and make better choices?! I think we ought to stop, then breathe because most of us are dead- we float through our daily routines, with our face set and tough skin, expecting people to accept whatever we throw at them claiming “this is who I am” or believing we’re doing them a favour by even sharing a part of us but we are dead because holding your breathe, being over cautious or constantly expecting negativity is so exhausting, it can kill! You have no idea!

So I’m done! It may take me years but I’m willing to give love than always waiting to receive the limited or conditional version human beings have to offer me; I’m willing to be a source of Joy rather than stay angry at those who want to take from me at the slightest chance. And I’m going to enjoy the genuine love of family and true friends per time because I can’t always control others’ heart condition or intention. But most importantly I’m going to accept God’s love, I’m going to allow Him teach me how to love Him, how to GIVE that love to others, how to make better choices and how to let go of what I shouldn’t be holding on to.

Happy Easter!!!

Why Traffic lights mean more to me

Who remembers this game we played as kids (by “we” I mean, born in the 80’s and most likely played with friends on  the then safe streets of Lagos Nigeria) where we stand on a straight line and someone who is in charge shouts “Red light” “Yellow Light” and “Green light” in no particular order. The idea is to confuse the participants because you never know what the person calling the colors would say, you have to be alert; if you move when he or she shouts “red light” (which can come just after a “red light”) then you are disqualified (I have a feeling my explanation doesn’t help much), anyway moving on……..

* And if you were not born in the 80’s or didn’t live in Lagos and you still played this game, then forgive me it was a random guess for I don’t know the statistics or history of games we played as kids*

One beautiful evening, I was playing this game just outside my house with some of my friends and for some strange reason my mum (who had seen us through the kitchen window) firmly told me to stop. As a rebellious child who was bent on winning this game, I ignored (I forgot to add that besides staying alert for this game, anytime “green light” was yelled, you had to run really fast so you could be the first to reach some form of make shift finish line, that way you win the game). She must have shouted from the house like twice but how could I hear? At that moment all I lived for was to hear “Green light” and take off like the wind on to the finish line; I heard the “Green light” I had been expecting and off I went and for a few unforgettable seconds I noticed I was leading, I realized that “today I will be the winner of this game and I will win the bragging rights”, achievement of life!!!

Alas, the girl who called the shots decided to cut short my moments of joy and shout “Red light” which meant I had to stop and suffer the possibility of someone else running ahead of me to win the game when the next “Green light” was called. However, I didn’t see what was to come; as a chubby child, anytime I was required to run I literally put my ALL into the race, whether there was a prize waiting at the end, it just made me feel good that maybe I didn’t look like a fat rolling pin set in motion down the street but rather a strong fit athletic child. And because of the amount of force I put into it, stopping abruptly could not happen so on this day, as I tried to stop at the girl’s command, I fell……no let me say that again…..I collapsed, in the most unglamorous fashion and as if that wasn’t enough, I hit the floor and literally skied a short distance (apparently I was still in motion even on the floor) and ended just under my neighbour’s gate.

It was like a car accident….all that noise; things shattering followed by a deafening silence then the sound of people getting over the shock and their voices when they finally find it! I don’t remember if I stayed on the floor or jumped up immediately however the pain was real and so was the shame I knew I had to endure as I gathered the courage to walk into my house. My mother had clearly heard the accident (even people miles away would have heard it too), so I limped and stood by the door because I was afraid to enter the house in case my mother decides that since the crash didn’t kill me, I should be finished off for being disobedient!

My mother finally yelled at me to enter the house, I didn’t even dare to make a sound as I cried when she gave me the 'evil eye' while cleaning my wounds and scratches that ran up to my knees and tights with mentholated spirit or disinfectant, not sure.  I don’t even remember what happened to my friends (I’m sure they got the message and disappeared) however that was one painful experience I endured for doubting my mother’s psychic powers……that wasn’t the first time I was playing that game so why did she choose that day to declare it a bad idea? I guess she saw the accident coming and my little mind didn’t. Since that ordeal till now, I’ve also learnt the hard way that there are dire consequences for disobeying your mother (I’m just grateful none of them killed me because I can be stubborn); she always seems to just know when a new friend is evil, when you shouldn’t go on that trip, go to that party, eat or drink that thing or even when holding an extra set of clothes is necessary!

They can be annoying but now I know beyond a doubt that it’s from a place of genuine love!! So to the psychic, super hero mothers; those gone to heaven, those doing it alone and those who have help along the way……you ROCK!! And even though we fight or disobey, we love you and secretly admire your powers and actually hope to possess them so we can use on our kids!!

Happy (belated) Mother’s day

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#Teamgrateful

Recently I’ve been fighting battles that I don’t think I deserve or fought before and “ain’t nobody gat time for that!”; some are supposedly trivial while others are testing my sanity. In the midst of it, a friend of mine asked that I join her and some other ladies in an exercise called ‘#team grateful’; where we make a list of things we’re grateful for everyday for roughly 2 weeks.

To be honest the first few days weren’t easy, I didn’t even remember to make the list and I just sat down, maintaining my position as CEO complaints commission. But one day, I can’t even remember what I was doing but what came to mind was “God thank you for male attention!” It was a funny thing to think about but it dawned on me then that I hadn’t really participated in the Gratitude exercise I signed up for. You may think being grateful for male attention is vain but to me it isn’t; I was really grateful that I still had a sense of humour.

So I decided to make a list of things that I’m grateful for; whether random, funny, serious, in no particular order and experienced often or not, they have made me smile or brought comfort.

…………Cold water on a terribly hot day (suddenly the water will be sweet); eating hot Ewa agoyin (Beans) and plantain/sweet potato/agege bread; watching a sincerely awesome movie (my toes don’t touch the floor from the excitement& suspense); finding money in a corner in my wallet or pocket (I cried once when this happened to me, Lol. Couldn’t believe God’s goodness) or when a debtor pays when I’m broke.

When people pay me compliments about my skin, lipstick, eye brows or weight loss (I do cartwheels in my mind); when I accomplish everything on my daily or weekly to-do list; having the courage to look out the window of an airplane (I’m currently winning the war against the fear of flying); starting and FINISHING a project.

Friends who annoy me; being an aunty; that I can open my heart to remain hopeful and move on; being able to laugh even when something painful happens (my phone was stolen recently and my former self would have had a fit, heart attack and become a grouchy monster but this time from the moment it happened I started singing to myself to let it go).

To have the ‘luxury’ of worrying about my weight; I’m sure at least one person in the world genuinely loves me; that I’m healthy and most importantly that it is my birthday and I KNOW I’m going to have an AMAZING DAY! My last birthday I put up a post about getting rid of Birthdayblues and believe me, I’ve grown even more within the past year and I most definitely won’t be dull in anyway today! And for this positive spirit as I’m blessed with a new year, I’m MOST grateful!

 

***As seen in the image, it would be nice to write that list often.

Again

 

 

 

I felt the euphoria deplete as I let out my breathe,

I abruptly fell from my high,

I kept my eyes tightly shut

I must have hoped the intensity with which I closed them would keep away the shame that vehemently washed over me

“It had happened again!”

I had failed once more,

I had disappointed myself and released a rippling hurt that would be felt by people I may never even meet…………

 

This is not a story I can tell because I don’t have a beginning

Yet I don’t know how to want an end.

I don’t have the words to explain something so blatantly unacceptable.

It’s what I see when I look into the mirror so I expertly mask with makeup, convincing bright smile, chic appearance, intelligence, witty conversation and an enviable lifestyle

 

I think I love you because I can’t describe how nothing works without you,

An evil I’ve become accustomed to; possessing more power than I do, conveniently breaking any dignity or courage I may build

My kryptonite yet the thrill I live for

I hear you speak and I know they are lies but you’ve become my solution even when there is no problem

 

I try to associate you with pain so I do penance however I self-destruct

I want to play a part in my deliverance but I fear my commitment is fickle

I make excuses; “something from my childhood”, “impaired perception”, “loneliness”, “over-independence”, “low self-esteem”, “bad experiences”, “pride”, “anger”…..

The list is extensive but doesn’t navigate the way to my freedom

 

The number of times I’ve fallen and got up is making me tired

The roller coaster ride of hope, self-loathing, strength and extreme humiliation makes me want to get familiar with the floor

I want to scream, cry, crawl, tear out my eyes, scratch my skin off my body or kill every form of emotion

Maybe death is a good option

But I’m not strong enough; I’m too weak to accept that way out

The darkness is my confidant, numbness my ally

But I know floating with no willpower will drown me eventually so I desperately cry out for help……….

 

………“Hi, my name is Perfect and I’m an addict!”