Hiding Behind Couches

It’s been a really long time since I was here. To be honest, I am actually here because I can’t remember the login details of a different blog I started, Lol.

Now that I think about it, this is the perfect illustration of what today’s post is about. You see, I absolutely love this site. I created it 8 years ago and it was my wonderful online journal. I figured my vulnerability may as well be shared because someone out here might resonate.

Let’s just say, I eventually discovered I’m not as vulnerable as I thought I was. Vulnerability was okay when the people who came here were a little similar to me and related with what I was saying. But one thing I hadn’t factored, is just how much I would evolve and change into a whole new person.

I had already started to shy away from writing about some things. Then one time, my mum’s friend mentioned how she used to read my posts and had been genuinely concerned about my mental health. It was such a lovely gesture but that’s when it hit me that I was very exposed.

You see, it’s easier to be vulnerable with people who are like you or when it’s complete strangers. That shit hits differently when it’s people around you. I could break down all the psychological reasons why this is yet another thing that’s not okay and needs healing from; but that’s not the point today.

So when my online journal started to feel infiltrated and I could no longer be as open because I’d changed to a different person; I left. It sucked to leave because this is my baby, but I did.

Let’s face it, leaving has always been my thing. Oh escapism and avoidance were things I effortlessly did! At the core of it, I know it’s just the fear of being truly and fully seen.

Back to the couches. Today I had an epiphany while on my friend’s couch. Last night I told her I wouldn’t share the bed as we mostly do when I’m around, because I was in pain and needed to be alone. I explained that couches are always comfortable for me and even while staying with other friends, I usually prefer their couches.

This morning, the truth dawned on me: it wasn’t that I loved couches and found them safe, it’s that it was always safe to be by myself. On nights I wanted to process my emotions, or when I was in pain due to health issues, or my sense of safety had been threatened; retreating was my thing. And when I was in a place where I couldn’t just lock myself in a room as I do at home, I quickly run to the couch.

So couches aren’t my refuge or favourite delightful place. They are examples of how it’s easier for me to avoid being vulnerable with those close to me or simply allow them to be there when I am most vulnerable. It’s me being afraid of being seen because deep down, I fear they wouldn’t know what to do or wouldn’t hold space for that level of vulnerability.

It’s safer to hide behind couches than face reality. But it certainly isn’t healthy.

We deserve spaces where we can be seen in our totality and be embraced. Where we don’t have to partition our lives and have one person see this side of you and another knows a separate part. So that ultimately, nobody really gets to fully know every single bit of who you are.

Before 2021 ended, I remember my Guides asking me what it would be like for me to have a space where all parts of me could show up at the same time, and be beautifully accepted. I realised I didn’t know what that looked like. Therefore, I decided to indulge that. To dare to dream of such spaces. And most importantly, to begin working towards being ready for such.

Because you see, it’s possible to get that and still fuck it up. If whatever inside me makes me closed off or emotionally unavailable or triggers the anxious-avoidant attachment style, isn’t healed, I’ll either fail to notice those spaces or I’ll self sabotage when I get them.

Which means more work to do. I won’t lie, the amount of inner work I’ve had to do over the past several years, is A LOT. And seeing that I’m still a bit of a wreck after all the work, makes the idea of more work, a little daunting.

So I’ll hold myself with grace and kindness as I do this. I’ll be gentle with myself and remember that being human means that I’ll never be perfect, but I’m still adequately good as I am at this moment. I’ll sit with the things that come up, attend to them and grow because I am committed to investing in being the best version of who I am at each point.

Most of all, I’ll remind myself today that I can no longer keep hiding behind couches. I am worthy of being seen.

Reflections On A Cold Friday

I have to say, this entire year feels like one big blur, yet somehow, it also feels like several years compressed in one. Generally, everything is defined by the surgery; so it’s either pre-op or post-op (operation).

Pre-op, there was too much activity. I was mostly home and still fighting to keep my house in the City, I was busy playing therapist and saviour to several people, I was unpacking a lot of things, unlearning even more and gaining new spiritual insights that were shifting my reality, juggling dating with distance in between, struggling with settling back at my parents’, too many hospital visits plus long trips in search of herbal medication, and in all that, fighting a battle with depression and anxiety while losing most of the time.

Post-op was an entirely different ballgame. I honestly only had energy to handle me, my three girlfriends and maybe one other person at a time. Which means I have been very poor at communication (too many unreplied messages). Initially, recovery took all my focus and energy. After my bed rest was over and I started working, I’d get home fatigued and I’d fall asleep even without eating dinner, way too many times.

So that has taken a huge toll on my social life. I know a couple of people who got mad or hurt but to be sincere, I still struggle to try reconnect. Basically, anyone who wasn’t actively involved in my whirlwind of a life just before surgery and the period after, was most likely shut out. But I guess this is partly what adulting is about: understanding that the dynamics of friendship are fragile and unless you put in the effort to actively be in the lives of people around you, chances are you’ll drift apart. No hard feelings, no beef. Your interactions simply become rare and we all understand.

This season of my life came with the birth of a woman who might not be recognised by those who knew her in earlier years. And I make no apologies for that because humans are supposed to be constantly evolving and growing. Most of all, I am in love with this woman. I knew she existed in me but I always had her suppressed because I was afraid of her. I feared her fire, her boldness and her wildness. I knew she couldn’t be controlled and she would rub several people the wrong way but wouldn’t be sorry about it because she had no apologies to make for living her authentic life.

Maybe it’s the whole getting close to 30 that came with this whole IDGAF attitude. Maybe it’s breaking free from the shackles of religion. Or maybe it’s simply the evolution process which has unfolded exactly as it was supposed to be.

All in all, I must say, I am loving it all. The lessons, the growth and the unlearning.

PS: There are some amazing lessons I have been learning lately and can’t wait to share! Especially from the book Conversations With God by Neale Donald Walsch 

(Oh and this is also the first time I think I have uploaded a photo of myself… yikes! Still trying to come out of my shell)

To The Person I Wounded During Healing

Been doing some reflection on my healing journey (I had dedicated this entire year to healing of my body, emotions, mind (soul in general) and my spirit).

And healing is very messy; it brings out the worst from within because that’s what is getting addressed. Which means the worst in us is also projected outwards. Sadly, that easily flows over to others who are caught in what feels like a war path.

This got me thinking of how that played out in my life. Oh it sure has been messy! But those who’ve known me understood and watched the metamorphosis. For them I probably became better or grew into a version of me they’d appreciate.

But along came you, and unfortunately you landed right in the middle of my sorting things. Which meant you didn’t have the privilege of knowing what was going on. Enough times I’d feel like you truly didn’t know me and there were things you’d say or do that would leave me shocked at how you’d think of me that way. But soon enough I realised it was simply because you hadn’t met me fully; and it was okay because we hadn’t known each other previously.

So you had your perceptions and I had my perceptions of who I thought you were. But we were just two people going through personal journeys that made it harder for us to understand each other. You were going through your transitions and, I mine.

Along the way, we probably wounded and frustrated each other. Well, this is me apologising for times when I judged you wrongly, misunderstood you, projected my insecurities, wounded you with my words/actions and, failed to be there when you needed it because I was too busy sorting my shit.

This is me taking stock of my healing and realising that there were other casualties that I really need to address.

Not At My Expense Anymore

No, I’m not giving up my personal peace for the sake of calm or peace with others.
No I will not put my needs second to anyone else’s.
No my desires will not be suppressed for the sake of someone else’s.
No my schedule will not be realigned to suit somebody’s.
Not even my sleep will be sacrificed just so that communication can be at another person’s convenience.

No my dreams will neither be shoved aside nor be laid to rest, to suit another’s.
No my happiness will not be given up to accommodate someone.
No my plans will not change because I’m being considerate.
No I will not shrink or dim so that your light shines.

I’m no longer putting myself secondary to others.
No, I’ve done that for way too many years.
It will no longer be another at my expense.
No, I am prioritizing me and mine.
My peace comes first.

And no, I do not have any apologies to make for that. Neither do I have any explanations to give.
That chapter is closed.
Not at my expense anymore.

Curveballs and Life’s Sense of Humour

There’s a lot that my mind has had to process lately, in fact, this year generally. There’s still enough that I haven’t adequately processed yet, because I don’t even know how to.

At this point, I thought all I’d be dealing with, would have to do with career progression and getting a good house. Family wasn’t exactly a priority. But oh well, life has one big sense of humour, Lol!

I’d gotten to a point where I was perfectly comfortable alone and absolutely enjoyed it. I was certain that I didn’t want kids, except probably one girl if I changed my mind. And I really wanted a kitten! Haha, being the old lady with cats sounded enticing enough.

Then life, as it loves doing, threw me the ultimate curveball: fibroids (I won’t even begin with everything related to surgery). Suddenly, conversations all around me were about idle uteruses and how I needed to start getting children. All the gynaecologists I’ve seen and even the lovely old lady who was taking me through natural treatment, agreed on the same.

Me? Me who still felt like a kid on most days? What on earth was I supposed to do with a human child when I hadn’t even raised a pet all alone on my income?

It would also mean putting all my great plans on hold. Why would I sacrifice my dreams? There’s an entire planet to be toured. There are projects to be undertaken. Learning to be done. And a name/personal brand to build. It felt quite messed up and unfair, considering health issues had already stolen a big chunk of my adulting years.

But here’s what I plan to do: make the most of the available time. I have been given a pretty short time limit by the doctors. However, I’ll pack up as many things I can do within three quarters of that time. And towards the end of that period, I’ll pick up this conversation.

As I mentioned earlier, there’s the upcoming surgery. We already have a scheduled date and now it’s very real. Yes I have frequent moments when panic sets in. Which is understandable because I’ve never been cut up.

Again, like I said, life has a sense of humour. I had vowed that I’d be the only member of this family who never stepped inside a theatre. Everyone else had gone for one procedure or the other. I almost did too when I got admitted in hospital due to crazy tonsilitis. Since it was something I dealt with often, they had to be removed. But nope, I wasn’t stepping on a theatre table.

So early this year when I was told the only way out was surgery, I wanted to break down. Or just scream at life and vent all my anger plus fears. But I had had a conversation a few months before, with the woman who inspired my healing journey (I still can’t believe she died). That conversation with her reassured me that healing comes through different ways and I should be open.

I now feel more prepared. And finally accepted that being cut open and 6-8weeks of healing indoors, is the price I pay to get back to a fairly normal life.

My thoughts on all the above and others I can’t even write, are still jumbled up. But I’m making progress and slowly processing bit by bit.

Yes I still feel like if it was up to me, I’d have written out my life differently. But this is what came, and in the spirit of loving what is, I accept it. And with time, I’m also seeing how this was also a gift.

Embracing Change

For a person who normally hates monotony and gets bored pretty easily, change is mostly fun. That’s why I don’t understand why this time round, I’m struggling.

Maybe it’s because several things are changing at once. Having to finally give up my house and move out. Officially accepting a long distance. Leaving behind the life I’d built here and the people I’m attached to.

I had found a way to keep the house and take it back after a few months. Then got quite carried away by that idea and was at peace. Only for that bubble to burst at the very last minute.

So now I have to let go. Sell most of the things in this house, give out some and throw away the ones I can’t carry. I am a serious hoarder! You can imagine the agony of having to part with things that hold countless memories… sigh.

I think this hit harder because for the first time in my life, I felt as though I was settling down at last. This is the longest I have ever lived in a house (1 year, 8 months). I was at home here. I knew my neighbours, all the security guards, had made friends with the shopkeepers around and various business people, was on great terms with the cleaning lady, and I’d grown attached to this place.

Thinking of how I’m officially going away from all my close friends, is depressing. Knowing that I no longer have any physical ties to this City, saddens me more. And the uncertainty of the future makes it all worse.

But deep inside, I am reminded of the girl that loves adventure and is fascinated by new things. The one who has no hesitation when it comes to letting go. The one who is always sure that new seasons come with better things.

That’s the girl I probably need to sit down with at this time. She’ll make this transition much easier.

Lost

I won’t lie, this vulnerability thing is haaaaaard! Right now, I’d much rather do a prettier and sugar coated version of this. But I need to be brutally honest with myself and writing is usually the best way to sincerely sort through things that feel overwhelming.

Long story short: I’m lost. Or rather that’s how I feel. I’m not even sure I feel anything; or anything I can put a name on.

Someone texted in an online mental health group I’m in, asking how each of us was. The only words I could respond with were: just there. Or as I like putting it: comme çi comme ça. Me who loves words and can describe anything effortlessly. Same me that’s the ultimate therapist and great understander of human psychology (well, self appointed). Yes, same me can’t even tell what I feel.

But the one thing that doesn’t lack clarity is how lost and clueless I feel at this point. I can’t tell you what I want. What I plan to do two months from now. Heck, I can’t even say what I’ll be doing tomorrow. Because I just don’t know.

And let me emphasize, admitting this was incredibly hard.

In this age where people are achieving impossible feats before they turn 20. Where 21 year olds are solving global problems. Where 25 year olds are millionaires with empires.

In this very age where we have the greatest access to information like never before. Where not knowing anything is almost a crime.

In this age, we’re expected to know things. To be very self aware and always know where we’re headed. Admitting you’re lost is insane! It’s almost like a career or social suicide.

But this is me saying it out hoping that it gives me more courage to be more honest about it. Hoping that it will assure somebody else that they’re not alone.

Most of all, I hope this helps to change the norm. That it will remind us that we’re human and we don’t have to always know it all or have everything figured out every single time.

As humans, we’re allowed to reinvent ourselves. We’re allowed to evolve and change. Which means, every once in a while, you’ll go from what’s always been familiar to unknown territories. Consequently, you’ll find yourself not knowing where on earth you are or where the hell you’re going.

And all that is perfectly okay. Trust me, I’m writing this because I also desperately need to be reminded. So from here on, I’ll stop beating myself and stop trying to fight this or find quick solutions.

I’ll simply stay in the moment and stop resisting what is. I’m currently lost and it’s really okay.

The Paradox of Knowledge

I somehow recalled some quote (or scientific law) I probably learnt eons ago: “The more you know, the less you know”. Been trying to research and find where it originally came from but that just led me down a rabbit hole and left me with more quotes than answers.

It’s funny how the most random of things can trigger an epiphany, and for me, believe it or not, it took Moana. I was bored and on Netflix so when I stumbled upon Moana (or Vaiana as it is now called), I knew I didn’t mind repeating it for the nth time.

There are movies or tales/books that make me come alive or remind me of who I am, and crazy as it sounds, Moana is one of them (yes, yes, I know I’m weird, Lol). Not that you asked, nevertheless, the others include but are not limited to: The Matrix because of Neo and how to view the World, Terminator because of Sarah Connor an how you might feel extremely ordinary now yet the powers that be seek to destroy you because of how your role in future is of paramount importance, and Waking The Dead by John Elderidge because I swear that entire book is my ultimate wake-up call!

So when Moana has that moment where she’s completely done but her grandma comes back to ask if she knows who she is, I realised I no longer know how to answer that question.

Which is strange because my self awareness is on a whole other level! It’s taken all these years to discover and do plenty of inner work. For instance, I can tell you how I am an empath and a Multipotentialite (or Scanner as Barbara Sher calls us) and how those two shape all my actions or thoughts or Worldview . I am aware of how my health battles affect my life. I understand what emotional wounds or past traumas make me act or perceive things as I do, and constantly work on healing them.

However, even with all that, Moana still made me realise how at this point I honestly don’t know who I am or what I want to do. I could tell that this was subconsciously driven by the fact that I will soon be going for surgery to get these fibroids removed and I’ll be back to having a normal life. Instead of excitement, my initial (and current) reaction is a more perplexed one.

Who will I be once I can go back to doing whatever I want? What job or business or project will I embark on? Suddenly that pressure feels overwhelming. It’s worse when you can do absolutely anything because of being a multipotentialite and having multiple interests and abilities. There’s so much you can do that you don’t even know what to choose first.

To be sincere, I do not like being in this space right now. It’s quite uncomfortable and I hate feeling disoriented. Nonetheless, I am also certain that this is simply the ending of one season and the labour pains that come with birthing a new one.

So maybe it’s not that knowing too much left me knowing nothing. It perhaps might simply be the stage where everything I know is being aligned to enable me to move to where I need to go in this coming season. Well, I guess I’ll find out as more days unfold.

Embraced Lies

Let me begin by saying that this was a very hard post to write but I needed to.

I found myself facing emotions that I’d buried deep and probably hadn’t even noticed. I had just finished watching a beautiful story on YouTube and it got me feeling all kinds of feels. That led me to a particular playlist and out of nowhere, I found myself in a very deep territory.

The story I’d watched left me thinking of experiences I’d gone through. I wanted to sweep it all to the forgotten corner of my subconscious mind. Then I heard a voice in my head telling me to allow myself to be truly honest. To be open and accept the uncomfortable truths. Goodness, this one led me to places I had always run away from! Consequently, it unearthed beliefs I’d held that I came to see were lies.

Belief 1: I am worth picking but not keeping.

That I would find/be found by some fascinating guy, be attracted to each other and the ball gets rolling. However, things would never really materialise.
This sadly, was something that was reinforced several times. Instead of seeing the fact that things don’t always have to work because it’s normal to be two people who want different things; my subconscious picked a contrary view. So the lie that ran was that I wasn’t worth keeping.
Eventually, I came to see that sometimes, people walk away for their own reasons and it’s okay.

Belief 2: The one I want wouldn’t want me.

A few times, I stumbled upon guys who felt like everything I was looking for (okay, let’s just say most of). Unfortunately, that also didn’t work. I remember being hit hard by the realisation that the man I’d want would probably not want me!
You know, it’s sad how we believe some narratives yet they’re only informed by one or two experiences.

But reality is that, I am who I am and by living authentically, I will attract kindred spirits. I have seen this played out in my life ever since I started to embrace that truth.

Belief 3: I am not attractive enough.

I know enough people struggle with this at one point or the other. But it’s easy to feel like it’s your ultimate truth. I remember being in school and liking a guy every girl liked. However, the guy seemed to only be interested in my other friends who were very pretty. So I gave up because I knew I couldn’t compete. This scenario was exactly repeated in the next school I went to. The interesting thing was that, after I gave up, somehow, tables turned and those guys were after me. I eventually got the guys I had wanted. Sadly, that didn’t crush the lie I believed in.

I can’t tell you how many times I believed I wasn’t beautiful or attractive enough only to later be told that there were enough guys who were attracted to me but didn’t think they stood a chance or were simply intimidated.

Reality is that beauty is in the eye of the beholder but most of all, others will not see beauty which you yourself can’t see. The most important thing was for me to see and accept it. Then realise that it doesn’t change or diminish when somebody else doesn’t see it.

Which brings me to the next belief.

Belief 4: I am intimidating

For the longest time, I kept hearing this one. So consequently, I believed that I intimidated people. Well, I didn’t see how because honestly, anyone who knows me knows the complete opposite. I couldn’t understand what about me would be intimidating. But when it gets repeated, you start accepting it as the truth. And that’s how I began to believe that guys didn’t shoot their shot because of intimidation.
Thankfully, my eyes eventually opened and I knew the problem wasn’t me but them.

Belief 5: I’m only wanted by unavailable people.

Oh this one! You know, weirdly enough, I would form the most beautiful connections with guys who were unavailable. Unavailable either emotionally or in actual sense because they had someone else.

The ones that hurt were the emotionally unavailable ones. We’d get along incredibly and connect deeply. Then because we both would be single, at some point, feelings would be involved. Whether one-sided or mutual, it would always end badly because the guy was emotionally unavailable.

The other kind came with little or no pressure because I knew they were with someone else. So I’d be busy enjoying a good friendship or great conversations because I knew there was absolutely no risk of feelings developing. Then somewhere along the way I’d be proved wrong. By that time, emotional intimacy would have grown unknowingly and therefore, things would definitely end up badly or we’d be left in this awkward space.

I won’t lie that I’ve fully sorted this one out. It’s something I’m working on but I’ll proudly say that I’m in a much better place. I no longer get captivated by emotionally unavailable men and I in fact, go the opposite way when I encounter them.

All in all, this session turned out therapeutic. I had never individually identified and clearly labelled these wrong beliefs. Inasmuch as I’ve grown to counter lies and hold onto the truths I now know, I’m still glad I got to see the full picture.

Hopefully, some day soon, I’ll be sharing how life is like when you reject the lies you held and live out the truth.

Life Expectancy

I recently had this conversation where I was busy telling God how I’d want to exit this life. I presented my list of ways I wouldn’t want to die (Lol, which was like every possible way). Then I also specified how He had better be personally there holding my hand and how I wanted someone who I’d happen to love to be there. My other desire was that I’d be able to say goodbye.

I’m not even sure where this came from. Maybe after the realisation that I was freezing literally, yet people outside being roasted by the scorching sun. This made me notice how I’ve been locked in the house alone for an entire week. Perhaps that’s when I remembered the scary stories of people dying in their houses and being discovered eons later.

While having that conversation, something dawned on me: I always expected to die fairly young. Goodness, this sounds crazier even as I type it!

For whatever reason, even when I was a kid, I never had those fantasies of being a grandmother or having grown quite old and happy with a family. Years later, I still didn’t have dreams or fantasies where I saw myself old with grown up kids or growing old with a man I was in love with. At some point in my early twenties, I started fearing I’d be one of those wives who left a young widower mourning his short, albeit happy, marriage.

However, my conversation ended on a good note with a reminder that’s changed a lot for me. I was reminded how I’ve had great grandparents all through, with the last one dying a year or two ago. How I’ve had all my grandparents until last month when I lost my grandfather. But how he was practically 100 or thereabouts and even when everyone was sure he was dying; he still made it through another 2 years.

Long story short: longevity runs in my family on both my mum’s and dad’s sides. So there’s nowhere I’m going 😊 Which means I’d better start dreaming of how beautiful it is going to be when I’ll be all old and wrinkly.

I plan to be the coolest old woman! To be the one with countless fascinating tales. The one who showers people with wisdom and silly moments in equal measure. The one who still goes for fun activities with her friends. The one who’s full of infectious life. The artistic one who will constantly be creating something. Basically the one people will always want to be around.

So here’s to new dreams, long plans and beautiful decades to come!