I haven’t written in a long while and I have a lot of untold stories but this..I feel compelled to share.Reading Love Warrior has been a roller coaster of emotions.I have found myself running to it for comfort and reassurance.. sometimes hope but the fact that she brings out my feelings in ways I cannot explain amazes me.
Here’s the first part.
I’ve never let myself trust love because I’ve never let myself trust pain. What if pain—like love—is just a place brave people visit? What if both require presence, staying on your mat, and being still? If this is true, then maybe instead of resisting the pain, I need to resist the easy buttons. Maybe my reliance on numbing is keeping me from the two things I was born for: learning and loving. I could go on hitting easy buttons until I die and feel no pain, but the cost of that decision could be that I’ll never learn, love, or be truly alive.
I am an intelligent lady,I always have been.I know it’s so crude of me to publicly admit that but when you are a slow learner,then it cancels out and I have no case to answer.
It’s probably the most ugly thing that I own besides my rainbow socks that I once wore together with a very pretty dress back in campus.I went to class feeling like a fashion diva and my boyfriend almost broke up with me because of it.He should have😅and I honestly don’t think I would be mad at him.But he took the noble road and decided to change routes just so I wouldn’t embarass him in front of his friends.What an honourable man😁.
There are days that life has caught me by it’s nests and I have struggled to free myself off of it.Be it relationships,family,health, education..I have tasted some bitter portions of them all but I think I raised myself right and have always given myself another chance.And life is cruel,it equals this chances with more pain and I am left to wonder if I am doing the right thing.
Is life teaching me something that I really can’t get?Why do I forget so fast?I keep thinking that next time it will not be the same.They will have known their wrongs.Next time I will be better.I will be more alert.Will listen more keenly.Next time I will have more strength,more courage.I will know what to do next time.Its always a next time.
I have found myself on my knees, crying to God to save me one last time.”At least for this one, God,because it hurts so bad.”But then,I get hurt again,and my last times are never the last.Folks,I have refused to learn!
So every time I pray,I still find myself using this line.One that i am well aware is a lie and wouldn’t be the reason for His Grace.
I am a slow learner and would definitely make a bad salesman.
The best thing about being away from home is that I get to think about the people I love.I get to understand what family means to me,I have a new appreciation of all the little things we would do together.The crazy times,the happy times.I especially miss bonding with my mum while preparing spper.She is my best friend.And how I sometimes hated preparing healthy meals for my dad in the morning.My dad is very particular with his meals and hee!!It takes a village to impress him.I kinda miss that.
You would think that the best decisions you make in life are those about the kind of people you date,the career you choose or just generally the kind of lifestyle you choose.But see my life!Now all I care about is,..I chose the right matatu.I won’t be late.It won’t leave me in a place I need to cross a road.Sometimes I have to beg drivers to stop and let me pass by literally saluting them you would think am a traffic officer.
I never knew that one day..I would rely on strangers to keep me safe.Its amazing how life teaches us to be humble.
Just knowing the right time to cross is magic for me.It has happened so many times that people cross and leave me standing on the other side.One time,three groups of people crossed the road and we were left standing with this woman.I felt so
helpless that i just found myself
Aki wanafanyaje wanacross?
She looked at me and remained silent.
In her head,she must have laughed and said,Welcome to the City!
For a long time now..I have been super emotional.Its like my oestrogen hormones are having a party I didn’t call for but all in all ,I get to live another day and that’s all that matters.
I have carried so much pain in my heart and struggled a lot with forgiveness.What should you think of yourself when you are a Christian who at one point thought,if given a chance,you wouldn’t think twice about pulling the trigger at someone?There are many times I have questioned my becoming.Who am I growing into?
I have lost and won at the same time.And sometimes I am left to wonder wether I should give thanks or be angry at God.What do you do when he puts you in this position?Don’t tell me to look at the positive side because it’s all I have been doing.
But honestly,if there’s one thing I am grateful for is the effects of all this negativity.I am becoming more kind,more loving,more considerate,more truthful and more empathetic because I understand what it means to have or to receive anything less than that.It however doesn’t feel like that on the outside but I think it’s reason enough for me to still think I am Favoured.
Favoured enough to understand that better days are coming and am indeed becoming what He wants me to be.
I have been throwing tantrums and literally being nasty at everyone around me.My family has had the brunt of it and every night I go to bed,I have to wrestle with the idea of not being good enough.Not being gentle and caring enough.
While I still call myself complicated I stopped apologizing for being a sensitive person.Take it or leave it.I am petty,I cry over the tiniest of things and stupid things upset me.I remember once quarrelling with my sister because she texted me in Caps Lock.Why would she do that?I told her that her text felt angry and projected(like in your face), considering the subject.
So yes,I have been feeling shitty for a while now.I have been angry for many reasons and i have felt like no one would understand me.I have given my mum so many lectures’ I think she doesn’t deserve.I have lived in that bubble until today when I forgot my sister’s birthday.
For a moment I felt..,just really bad.I had been shouting at her all evening,and she was still kind enough to make tea and bring it to me in my bed.I am supposed to be the kinder person,to be the caring one and more responsible one. To know better.
My mum is always silent and now I know why.She has tasted a bigger portion of this life and she probably is just letting us discover the different tastes at our own right time. I know i owe them all an apology.But then what would I actually say?Am sorry for not being the bigger person?
One thing I know for sure is that it’s not always about me and its crazy that it had to take this for me to remember that.
Happiest Birthday Maggie.I love you.💜💜♥️💜
To be honest,after 100 plus posts,I wanted to do away with this space and create something new.I no longer found it attractive or exciting from a readers perspective.But I have gone through so much here,I am just a little unwilling to let it go.It is here that I have learnt forgiveness,self appreciation, patience and much more .I have literally skinned myself and exposed my vulnerability to people I don’t know and some whom I would rather remain a stranger to.
The first time I got my heart broken,I cried.The world didn’t seem to make sense without him😅.Don’t judge me,I was young and I saw life in one dimension.It took me years before I got to date again.I was more sober and I had started to look at life as multifaceted.I would never cry because of a man.I had grown thick skin or so I thought😅.
You see,once I meet my husband,I plan on loving him with every inch of my breath.I hope he does too.I have since accepted the fact that if I am going to love,then it means my heart might probably get broken and it’s not because they will have dumped me.The thought of what could have been is a loss big enough on it’s own.Its a risk I am willing to take because after many heartbreaks,love still remains to be a beautiful thing.Maybe it’s just life that sucks.So I am always praying for my husband.The one He kept for me.And if I will not find him,then so be it.The other day a friend of mine said it’s impossible not to find your mate.
“There’s always someone to marry.”
But well,if it means I settle for what I don’t deserve,I would rather forfeit that course.
Here’s my point though,if my husband and I get children,I pray that they teach us a new kind of love.Being a mother needs one to be more than human and this by far remains the greatest mystery of life which I believe you cannot fathom until you become one.I have seen children grow up and because of how shitty life is,they have made marriage unbearable.I pray that my children never become a cause for this unfortunate occurence and if so,then I don’t know.Maybe I would rather not go down that path.And instead of making such careless prayers,I should probably just ask God for Grace.I have recently found myself needing more of this than I thought. To actually go back to the basics and relearn everything I thought I had mastered.Forgiveness and patience.Love and Trust.
And now more than ever I know,growth is not always linear.
Its 3a.m and i have been up listening to this guy Jonathan McReynolds and I rushed here to tell you something incase I forget.
This guys lyrics travel to my core..I feel every beat and tears just fall.
I hope that one day you will love me like I love my music.Stay up with me and watch me fall asleep.I hope you speak words so deep that will make me cry.And i hope that every time i hear your sound,i am reminded of what love is.
I am sitted at the front part of the matatu next to the driver.The man seated next to me is chewing khat, popularly known as miraa or muguka in Kenya.It leaves an ugly colour on the teeth and let’s not talk about the breath afterwards! I struggle to keep a straight face because I don’t want to look rude.He goes on to chew it hard and guess what happens!
“Not on this day Lord😩”
I could not imagine having to withstand this man for seconds more than what hell had allocated.
He takes a chewing gum from his pocket and Lord of Lords he hands me a few pellets.Arrrgrh!Why can’t people just mind their own business!I would want to be pissed at this man but that was four years ago.
I am angry at my younger brother.He comes home chewing Miraa and he confidently hands me some.
What the hell?Is he crazy?He knows how I feel about these things.I run to my mother to report how spoilt he is.He is just a minor on his eighth grade.I go on and on ranting about how he needs to be disciplined.But that was two years ago.
I can only be angry at myself.Its the middle of the night and guess what!I am chewing Miraa.Guys,I am such a petty bitch and a know it all.My brother was only chewing ordinary gum branded ‘Muguka’.Na the way I had made a big deal out of it?Nkt!
But come on,who uses such a name for gum?
In this life,we are always separated by a thin line.And I hate it.I hate that of all the things on this earth,and of all the things in geometry…a line is what f****ing counts.
Responsibility Vs Maturity.
I hate that I have to clean up my siblings mess.I mean,they should know better.They can see it’s wrong,they just don’t want to do it.
I hate that my boyfriend gets mad when I find all his dishes dirty and in a terrible mess,the house looking like a dumpster and literally stinking.I ask him to clean it up but he refuses.He says that if it bothers me,I should correct it.Damn it!Am I the one who created the mess?
My friends tell me that as a woman,the sober thing to do is to clean it up.Yaani,I should be the mature one.The one to know better and avoid an argument. **** them too.I argue that he should be responsible enough to know better.What did he think would happen after leaving dirty dishes in the sink for a week?Angels would come clean them?
So I leave,and we probably might end our relationship because for the millionth time, I am struggling to be mature and he is struggling to be responsible.
See my point,mother*****ing thin lines!
I remember going to church with my mother at a very young age. I loved sabbath school because Bible stories were to die for.So much that I later skipped adult Bible study to attend children classes.It’s the reason I like pastors who use stories to preach.I got saved in 2004 when I was in my fourth grade.I had this overwhelming peace and joy that I found in Christ and I never wanted to feel any different,so I decided to get baptized.
I was ready for baptism.I carried my changing clothes and my father came to school to witness this occasion(was in boarding school).I stood on the line awaiting my turn but I must tell you that I never got baptized that day.My brother however did,and I was happy for him.
Its four o’clock and after a long day in class,I always craved for food.Food and more food.It was my happy place.I remember one day taking it too far I could literally feel my stomach stretch😂 .My deskmate laughed at me the whole night preps because I couldn’t read.I slept on my desk wondering how quickly you can be destroyed by the things you love.
We were to choose between going for a school debate or going for “Way of the Cross” because it was Good Friday.I was the Queen of debates but I chose to accompany fellow Catholics to church because it was near the tuck shop.According to my math,we would finish earlier than the people who went for debate and I would be among the first on line to buy maandazis and other snacks.They were never really enough for everyone.Huh!My intelligence was finally coming to play and we were going to win😁.
Friends,I have never been disappointed like I was that evening.Yaani what was God trying to tell me.I was so mad at myself that I skipped supper all together.I think i might have even cried😅.Maybe it was the hunger,the shame,or just the realization that you cannot joke with God.He will put you in your right place.And the next time you are about to make a mockery of Him,you will remember not to.
I get baptized😊.