Dear
Beautiful (yes, I call you beautiful because it has taken us 32 years to accept
it and if we don’t own it we never will, will we?)
So, it’s 10 days
to your next birthday like a whole 33 years. It’s such a weird age and phase
because I think I never actively thought of it and accepted it. I mean the 30’s
have been something else amazing, painful, heartbreaking, exhilarating,
birthing and fulfilling. In the midst of it you have grown physically, mentally
and emotionally. You have messed up, royally at that and you have fallen in
love with GOD so wonderfully. You haven’t stopped believing and praying,
relating and learning and finding yourself in the silence of being alone.
Like if we take
a step back this wasn’t the plan.No siree , the plan by now was married ,bare
foot , continuous marital sex , a little one with gigantic chubby cheeks , a
mother in law to spoil , a husband to love , fight with , grow with and run the
world with. But you see I’ve learnt that we make plans, but GOD has written HIS
plan from the very beginning. So here we are 10 days away from 33, unmarried,
no bae in sight, no mother in law (combo deal with the husband), no little one
(though my ovaries taunt me daily that I really should be getting on with it)
and a whole lot of GROWTH. Yep the only thing I have to show for it is tons of
growth and I’m well happy about it (though when this thought passes my mind at
1am and I wish I was in the warm embrace of so called bae, it does not seem so
yoga-green tea drinking- at peace with oneself zen like).
So yes that
thing called GROWTH, it’s been quite the experience. Physically I had to look
at myself in the mirror one day and say,” Fuck it you are amazing!”. Now having
battled years of image issues this was a beautiful thing for me. I now stand in
front of the mirror more naked that not and enjoy it. I grew to love me, not
starve myself and get my ass to exercise regularly (HALLELUJAH). It began with
just deciding I need to love me more which took repetitively falling off the
wagon and hating myself and comparing myself to every Instagram model and just
accepting myself. You see that’s the stuff they don’t teach you, how to accept
yourself. How to view you as enough, beautiful, gorgeous and a sex kitten.
Physically it brought a lot of liberation and sexual freedom. I began to see
myself as an attractive, sexy young thang’ and I turned heads (like now I
noticed it) and it felt good being a curvy, sexy, intelligent millennium. Sex
no longer became tainted with guilt (the Christian in me had those moments).
Wait, it’s not like my bedroom became a revolving door of potential partners
but I chose to explore my sexuality and what I like (please note explore means
two men I thought I would date and it fell apart, sex before dating – don’t
even ask that’s another post on its own). So yeah, I enjoy sex, loud, gymnastic
moves fueled, laugh out loud, sweat dripping sex. I love it and I honestly
don’t think I indulge in it enough (that bae hubby guy better come ready I got
some catching up to do). I became sexually alert and now well I know what I
like, don’t like, enjoy and not enjoy and I guess it’s experience to be
preserved for another stage.
I have made
effort in looking after my skin and it shows. I have baby soft, buttery and
supple skin. Skin you can get lost in. I love how my skin feels even when I
touch it, I always wonder when I shower like is life even ready for this skin?
I love its color, I love the texture, the marks, the dips and crevices – it’s
my story etched in melanin.
I’m physically
stronger and this has translated to less episodes of sickness. I now rest on
purpose and take self-care very seriously. In it all I have learnt to stop,
breath and continue running so I can be the best version of myself.
So, if we were
marking it out of 10 physically I think we are on a firm 7.
Emotionally
(chile’ this has just been something else) it’s been a roller coaster. There is
nothing more pictorially accurate to describe it than that of a roller coaster
ride with highs, lows and what the hell am I doing moments. Has the ride been
worth it? Well I guess so because every turn no matter how exhilarating or
bitter has come with a lesson. I’ve loved, lost, been blinded, been exhilarated
and scared out of my mind but I’m still here. I look back at this last year and
I realized I learnt to define love on my terms. I became bold, walked away from
what didn’t serve me and longed for what I couldn’t have, messed up potentially
epic relationships because of fear and doubt and sat alone at home and cried my
eyes out because being alone sucks. But somehow (neurotic optimism aside) it
really has been worth it. It forced me to confront my biggest fear – being
alone. It taught me to love my own company. It made me step out of my safe
spaces and make friends. It taught me to say yes more than no. It taught me to
lower expectations (though I still fail at this dismally). It showed me I can
be whole. I have felt pain, pleasure, discomfort, longing, disappointment,
anger, envy and joy. And I’m still here. The very best parts of us are part of
a story still unwritten and what we have felt so far is the promise of more to
come. This past year I cried a lot like not pretty, dab your eye crying but
screw up that face ugly cry from my belly. Crying that wears you out and send
you to sleep and has you waking up with swollen eyes and a headache from the
pits of hell. It has washed my soul, cleansed me and reminded me I’m human and
I have never felt more liberated. I have felt every feeling and though some
have wrecked me they haven’t made my life their home.
Have you ever wanted an ice-cream cone on a
hot summer day and waited hours in a queue to get one then just as you have
paid and have it in your hand someone accidentally bumps into you and down it
falls almost in slow motion leaving you with an empty cone? Relationship wise
that’s been me this year empty ice-cream cone Goddess. I don’t know what the
new theory on dating I is don’t get it and maybe I’m on this little planet by
myself with these warped theories of what it should be (remember expectation
syndrome reigns supreme with me). I mean all I want is a good man – vague
right? Well I kinda have aha! Moments and think yep that’s what I wanted (I am
a perfectly imperfect normal 30 something, trust me). I want a kind (he has to
be kind like let’s old ladies sit when there isn’t a seat type kind) ,
responsible (like pays his bills on time , buys his mama groceries monthly ,
has savings type of responsible – and not because I want your money boy I make
my own money but in the event that we make millions , honey I can shop till I
drop , you need to reign me in) , committed( like go the 100 yards , fight for
this love , let’s make it work though I’m mad , I will stand by your side
through drought , disease, drama I got you kinda strength. Like I’m looking at
these women but all I want is you committed – even if I look like a an angry
hormonal gorilla), faithful (like can you just keep your stuff in your pants
PLEASE ! , don’t make me look like a fool for loving you type of faithful) ,
strong( now I’m a feminist all the way but strong in terms of owning being a
man , a man I respect , a man who has this I got it big bear type of personality
, who can tell me no , who can be daddy , the coach , the mentor, the friend
and life partner) ,prayerful (because honey the storms will come that will have
me and you running for our lives but a praying man knows the bible , will quote
a verse and pray over us and lift us up to GOD ) , a playful man (because I am
a joker , I am the craziest ,calmest clown you will ever meet , a man who
laughs at himself, laughs with me and knows when to let loose) and a giving man
(of his time , his energy , his resources (not just his money) ,I love a man
who can switch off the world and make time for me damn ! ain’t nothing as
heartwarming and sexy as a man who says right now it’s about you). The list
isn’t exhaustive like let’s add some ambition, confidence, intelligence, broad
shoulders (don’t ask me why but shoulders will have me in a tizz honey), focus
and humility. Now I could blend these up and find a build-a-man store and I’ll
be sorted right? Wrong! If this man
exists I haven’t met him yet. The older you get the less it becomes about
getting the whole package but focusing on the foundation that makes this person,
that one day when he is flaccid, and my boobs swing to my belly like empty
teabags and got no life in us I can still look at you and love you all the same.
I’ve made bad choices, horrible choices, messed up potentially amazing choices
but it’s been a lesson. I hope I get better at this, I really do because I’m
definitely sure I was never created to be alone and I mess up a lot too, but I
wouldn’t mind messing up with someone. I’m not all doom and gloom but lately
I’ve been thinking of moving off this podium. I believe in love and want it but
I want a child too. I’ve been reading up on adoption, yes becoming a mother
while I still have my best years. I don’t know if it’s possible to love
wholeheartedly with everything in you alive, feeling safe, secure and trust. I
don’t know if I will ever say,” I love you “and know those words are safe with
whoever hears them. I’m cautious, kind, attentive but I don’t trust easily
anymore, I doubt a lot and I wait for the worst to happen. It’s been a learning
process and yes, I know you have to do the work yourself but imagine someone
willing to stand by you, offer security and support as you learn to love again.
I’ve invested too much time and emotions in men, I ain’t bitter just a whole
lot wiser.
Let’s score
relationships , I would put that on a 4 out of 10.
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