11 things I am grateful for.

1. I am grateful for my father and my sister who are both alive and doing well.

2. I am grateful for I have a shelter to sleep in and food to eat.

3. I am grateful that I have bed despite its discomfort. I am still grateful.

4. I am grateful for my family both nuclear and extended who are always there for me when I need them and who come through for my family in times of need.

5. I am grateful for finishing school and doing so while passing my exams greatly.

6. I am grateful for my health and both the health of my family and friends.

7. I am grateful for the chance I got at an internship. It was my first chance and I am grateful that it may go through.

8. I am grateful for this blog that reminds always that I am a talented writer and will only get better from here.

9. I am grateful my sister’s support and everything she does to keep me going. The words of encouragement, the pep talks, the feeding and everything. I cannot fully express how grateful I am for her.

10. Finally, I am grateful for life. On many occasions, it is easy for me to go down the rabbit hole that is suicidal thinking. I struggle often to find the meaning of life for myself but I know I need to constantly remember to be grateful for the life I have.

11. I am most grateful for my mental health. It was in the gutter and few months ago and doing better now. I am grateful for the antidepressants I have access to every month to get better.

New Year Resolutions

New year resolution

I feel like I have to make this clear, I am not big on new year resolutions. I cannot recall a time in the past years where I have found myself creating resolutions at the beginning of any new year. I am still at the point at which the new year is a mere continuation of the last year, most especially during the transition from new years’ eve to the beginning of the first day of a new year.

This year though might probably be the first year I decide on having a resolution because why the hell not. With no substantial reason, I will have only one resolution for myself. I choose to have one merely because it is a start.

Being a plus size girl

For those who might not know this, I am a plus size girl. For the better part of being one, I have not always embraced it as a nature. It has always sort of felt like an inadequacy. It recently came to my attention that I actually no longer mind being plus size. I have to admit, it seems to bother those around me that I am a bigger girl than most. I wish I had the understanding of why, but genuinely, I would prefer they didn’t shove their opinions on my weight down my throat.

Accepting that I am big is one thing, being comfortable overall about it is still something I am working on. I try to derive inspiration from following other plus size women online and it does help in building the general confidence I need to eventually be okay fully as a plus size girl. It has taken me quite a lot of pep talks to myself to get me to wear a dress that compliments my body and it wasn’t until this weekend at a gathering where I was absolutely unconscious of the fact that I was in a dress while out in public. I was comfortable and that was all that seemed to matter which if I may, I would consider that a good start.

My new year resolution

My resolution for the year is to grow into my acceptance of my body while loving it as it is. This means taking better care of it, appreciating it, affirming it and everything else that feels good towards it. I want to wear dresses more and look stunning in them. I want to wear hugging jeans that show my curves just enough to still feel comfortable in them. I want to feel confident with my triple D sized cups and rolled up belly. All those parts of myself that were shunned before, I want to show them, love. They deserve to be loved and appreciated. Therefore that is my one resolution for the year.

Mary Oliver, Here’s my puny but precious life…

“Tell me, what it is you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? “Mary Oliver

Well Mary, I can’t say there’s much I’ve already done with my one wild and precious life for I’m just twenty three as of a month ago. But let’s say it ‘s all the life I’ll ever get to live. Let’s picture this as the only life I’ve lived and that be enough. We may as well not plan for a future that’s yet to be lived, am I right? So for my puny little life, I will have quite the childhood. I’ll try to find the words to sum it all up but I’ll always come up short. It will be a mesh of a little bit of everything; it will not have been the best years of my life but it will be the years I’ll wish to have held onto more. It will be the years I should never have taken for granted, but still somewhat did. As a kid, I’ll be my best version of prime & proper, at least to the world I’ll try to be. Back at my house, I’ll be the biggest pain in the ass and my arch nemesis will be none other than my dear ole mum, God bless her soul… She’ll take the blunt end of my onset of puberty and will match my energy of being a serious pain in the ass. But despite it all, I’ll adore her existence like that of a god. She’ll be to me like every mother is to their child, their first god and their lifeline. I will not realize just how much the world is unfair to you until the day my lifeline will be taken away from me. Simply, I will learn of one of life’s toughest experiences which will alter the entire basis and trajectory of my life.

Like it is for most people, those lucky enough to have the blessing of family, I’ll live for my family. With one sibling and a single father, I’ll pour out every bit of love in me to them, which now that I think about it, might explain why it will be hard to love anyone else with the intensity and magnitude that some will seek from me. I will adore my family and be in their embrace through every day spent of my puny but precious little life. My dad will be that friend you can’t quite get enough of but still gets annoying every so often. He’ll have my back always and I’ll grow to protect him to the best of my little ability. As for my sister, she will be my best friend, my companion, my roommate and my all rounded life partner. We won’t have much of separate lives since we will be often together too much of the time. She will be my provider for quite the while and I’ll ride it out till what I hope will be the start of my own adulthood. She’ll complain I eat a lot but continue to feed me regardless. What can I say Mary, a girl’s gotta eat to grow. Sometimes indulging into her cravings a little bit more than she should. All my life’s significance, regardless of whether puny or not, my sister will be there for them. She’ll cheer me on and help me brush of the dust from the times I’ll have fall off my feet. She’ll vicariously live through me in my relationship escapades for they will be quite a few… Mary, you may be quite surprised by just how much I’ve experienced in the realm of “love”…I will trust no one more than I trust her and I’m uncertain I’ll ever know what it’s like to have anyone closer to me than her.

I will go through highschool and regard it as the worst years of my life. I’ll hate every day of those agony ridden days. I’ll want to escape to my dreams every day of my life for those four years and I’ll have my heart broken by the impossibility of my dreams ever coming true. I will peg on God to pay His dues to me even despite knowing deep down, He owed me nothing. I’ll walk down the streets of my school every evening looking up at the stars and hoping against everything that the brightest star of all will mean my redemption from my misery. It will surprise me that despite feeling incapable of feeling anything else besides sorrow, I’ll grow to love a girl immensely in the midst of it all. I’ll use her as a distraction from my grief but then, my emotions towards her will envelope me like a dome. She will eventually become all I’ll ever think of in those years and even a few years after that. I will feel hate and this wildly twisted obsession over her that will force me to think again over what I thought I knew about my sexuality. She’ll become the true bane to my existence and I will not know till date whether it was all just a projection of my grief or I just had the worst case of adolescence. Even later in life, I will still regard this girl as quite the enigma. I will have gotten better reins of my emotions when it comes to her but traces of her will still linger and hover over my conscience. I will complete highschool with the passion to charge the world. I will have my dreams hanging from my shoulders and what will then be a well sort out plan to kick start the dreams into motion. I will then learn that it’s a lot harder than I might have thought. My passions and my sorrow will set sail my career into psychology.

I will go through college and have quite the silent rollercoaster. Silent because not a lot of people can attest to anything major happening in my life but it being a rollercoaster because I certainly will have my fair share of things happen in those years. I will loose my virginity in college, and it won’t be memorable. It will not mean much and neither will it be some instrumental rite of passage for me. It will happen and I won’t care to much over it… that’s all that will be to it. I will have boyfriends, and a man-child friend too. My first relationship will be, for lack of a better word, meh. Though at the beginning, I wouldn’t have considered it so, for I will have wanted more from it. It will be based on sex marathons and on and off breaks. In time, it will be the trigger to a very uneventful onset of my first depression. It will kick-start a tirade of emotions, downhill turmoils and a whole lot of anxiety. It’s in college where my battles with mental health will become the fore front of my life. Depression will become my shadow and I will loose recognition of myself without it…Before I can even delve further into what my life will become in regards to my mental health, let me tell you about the man friend I will be crazy enough to date… It will also be in my early twenties, when I’ll have my interest picked on matters BDSM. In the case you’re not aware Mary, this is a kink in sex for those who are unconventionally woke. It will be in my venture of this kink that will lead me to meeting and somewhat dating a man-child who will then be 44 at the time. I know what you’re probably thinking but trust me, at the time it won’t seem as absurd as it might now. He will at the beginning feel like a breath of fresh air (no pun intended in regards to him being old and all..) and I will be enthralled by him and his take on the world. His bluntness will at the start look like something to be admired but it will soon wither in my eyes for it will not go unnoticed to me how emotionally dry he will be. As he himself will say, “I’ve got the emotional depth of a pin cushion”. I consider myself lucky for I will actually know what a pin cushion is like. After that, we will end things between me and this man but we will keep in touch and that will be a mistake I will soon learn dearly from.

I will go through life one day at a time…I will experience a mental agony that nothing will have ever prepared for me. I will learn to cope with this said agony in ways that will leave permanent scars, both on my skin and on my mind. I will still continue to dream and be a little girl on the inside. I will go through life plagued with anxiety that I’m never doing enough, that I’m not the best at anything that I do. I will still keep trying regardless, even when I will want to choose death over life. As I said earlier Mary, my life is still puny and hasn’t matured as much so there’s only so little I can tell you of how my life turns out… I will try my best to write more of how my life goes, maybe when I’m thirty, I will write this again. I will to you how my puny but precious wild life will have gone down. Hopefully, it won’t be so puny anymore.

“Inspired from the book ” It’s okay to laugh ,crying is cool too” I haven’t even completed it yet but I’m sure it’ll be a wonderful read.

Easing up just a little on my perfectly imperfect soul.. ⏯️🛎

You ever have those aspects of yourself that you’re not entirely sure are a good thing? Well I do, at least. Lots of them actually. I’ve got this specific one that I wouldn’t consider the most obvious or detectable to those who know me but don’t get to spend enough time around me to be able to pick up the said trait. For someone closer, in this case my sister who’s also my roommate has grown accustomed to it and isn’t quite fond of it. In regards to it, it makes me the Debbie Downer sister, the most up tight, the less spontaneous, oh, and the worrier too… I wouldn’t really say that I hate this specific aspect of myself fully, it grounds me to an extent and anyways, I’m only regarding it now as a flaw on the occasional times when I wish it didn’t restrain me as immensely as it does… Okay okay, enough of the beating around the bush nonsense and I’ll get right to just saying exactly what it is this said aspect of myself is. I believe that in lay man’s language, what I’ve got going on is the character aspect of a perfectionist. I’m not 100% sure whether in most cases, one’s actions that may fall under the bracket of a perfectionist are excusable entirely and whether it eliminates one from some form of fault. This isn’t to mean that wrong actions are meant to be absolved just cause one couldn’t help their perfectionist nature… and now I’m getting derailed from what I initially meant to write in regard to this insistent need of mine to do everything by the book…back to focus.

Take for example, my last statement right there. It’s absolutely okay that I write whatever comes to mind and not feel like it’s some crime I’ve committed that requires some form of punishment from god knows who or what. I’ve said it to myself before that I wish I could make my writing absolutely spontaneous but despite trying to keep up with that notion, minutes before I was able to write all this down here, I couldn’t help myself but scribble down a few highlights on this exact topic in the fear that I’d screw it up if I left it to the fate of my mind to remember exactly what my line of thought was at the very beginning. Pardon me if I hardly sound like I’m making any sense. Technically, my incessant need to have everything in some prime and proper version of things does piss on my parade a lot more than I’d like to admit.

Do you know what’s most absurd about it to me in regard to this, it’s the crazy notion in my mind that’s convinced of some form of reprimand in the case that things aren’t done in the ‘rightful’ manner. My conscious mind believes that whatever action that’s to be undertaken, if slightly bent from its set out route of focus, there will be life changing repercussion…Maybe in some cases, there might stand the chance of the odds being in favour of things needing to be done exactly as they are supposed to be done but on the off chance that the world won’t end if I don’t do things all perfect, it makes it direly impossible to have spontaneity ever happen to me. I cannot begin to elaborate just how much of this aspect of myself is fully embedded in me. It’s in everything little thing I can think of that I do. From the way I talk, to the way I carry myself around in front of people, to the way I arrange my things in my wardrobe, to the way I write… It goes on and on. It’s even trickled down to a hobby that’s absolutely supposed to relax me and completely take the edge off which is what has led me to being here and writing it down. Colouring. Yes, you read that right. I recently started colouring and had been yearning to do it for a while now because I thought to myself, why not, seems like it would be quite fun and it would bring the carefree child in me out a little bit more, to reminisce on easier times in life through bringing colour to portraits & pictures. But guess what, even that had to get trampled over by my need to do things right… I was just colouring a while ago and I couldn’t help but feel upset that I wasn’t colouring one of the pictures in my colouring book exactly as the object usually is in reality. When I first started, I’d insist on checking exactly what colours a certain picture was so that I’d colour exactly in the same manner. Rather than embracing the spontaneity of creating my own art in colour, I was anxious that by some random chance, someone would pick up my colouring book and question me for not colouring respectively as it should be. The whole point of me colouring was never to seek out perfection but despite that, I can’t seem to shake off the idea that everything needs to fall exactly into its right place or in this case, its right colour.

Like I said, to some extent, I’ve grown accustomed to it because without a doubt, I’ve never been one to live on the edge of life. I’ve always played things safe, never to purposely or intentionally rock the boat. Being a perfectionist has helped somewhat calm my raging anxiety over things beyond my control though it is also technically built on the very said anxiety. I truly believe that if I was less of an anxious person, I’d be more relaxed, maybe Zen even. Maybe then, I’d care less about the fear of an absurd repercussion than trying to have everything fall into its proper place. I’m sadly a real major stickler for order and despite how much I’d wish to change that, I think it’s best to admit that it will take a whole lot to rid me of what can be now termed second nature to me. Gotta admit though, I wish my mind, soul and body would just go with the flow you know… Sore away with the wind, wherever it may take me without the fear of a possible anxiety attack. What can I say, it’d be nice to have my own nature try not wring the breath out of my neck in the face of a little imperfection.

P. s This here is a picture of my current remotely acceptable coloured picture, not sure whether it’s a smurf or a gnome but I wanna hope that it’s colours match those acceptable to the gods of perfectionism. 😌

..another P.S …So apparently, from Pinterest quotes, it’s not at all a good thing to be a perfectionist. It’s very flawed seemingly. I’m not here to justify it’s good or bad aspects, maybe just to reflect on its disadvantage a little, at least when it’s not being life threatening.

It is absolutely Okay

It is absolutely okay that the current and present feel in my heart right now is freedom. Freedom of letting go what I couldn’t salvage or save. Freedom from the bond that was genuinely holding me down and caging me in.

It is okay that I chose myself other than the other person. It is okay that I feel conflicted over whether it truly is okay that I made the choice to walk away for the reasons that I chose.

I may have wondered whether it was the right thing to do but I can’t refute how good it is to be by myself. I was scared to feel lonely but now I know that being lonely isn’t what’s meant to kill me.

It’s absolutely okay that I have no immediate plans for my future. It is okay that I feel conflicted over not having the said plans. I’ve had immense amounts of pressure weigh in on my shoulders over getting a head start on my journey after school and it’s all but made me want to loose my mind further down than I already have.

It’s been hard having to justify to everyone, and most especially to myself that I don’t feel ready to just up and start on to the next thing that is meant to kick start ‘adulthood’ for me.

The goal on everyone’s mind is to have me fall in line just as is expected of me to now look for a job or start on a career I in the least feel qualified enough to embark on. I know it may take a while to believe in my decision and feel ‘unwavered’ over making it but it is absolutely okay that I’m indecisive over the next course of my life.

It isn’t a fault not to have my shit together and that maybe, what I really need to care about isn’t how to convince others of my choices but find contentment in the fact that they are my decisions and it’s okay that they don’t and won’t always please everyone.

It is absolutely okay that I feel lost in my passions. The feeling of not having enough to turn my writing into a best seller with just a wave of a wand. It is okay that I feel under-qualified in my craft and that I know it will take a lot more of me building my self believe than learning how to write more artistically pleasing.

It is okay that I hope to put my writing out there, for the world to read and find solace, joy and beauty in my work. I aspire to write and never grow tired of finding more words to describe the world and my thoughts on everything. It is okay that all my plans feel very slow progressed.

They might not be taking place at the said speed of lightning but they will happen in due time. It is okay that I’ll sometimes feel like they are but just a dream, a dream I still very much peg my trust in.

Therefore, it is with absolute certainty that it’s okay that I’ve still got a lot to learn, a lot to experience, a lot more to write… and as long as I can and will write, then it is okay that it doesn’t have to all happen now.

Despite the uncertainty of things, it is absolutely okay that I’m still learning about my mental health.

I may not always be the best judge when it comes to deciphering whether everything I feel is bound to the black hole of depression but it’s okay that I’m still trying to figure it out.

I know I’m not always right and I stand the chance to be more wrong most times than I will be right but despite it, I’m okay with learning through the act of sometimes being scared and over reading into things.

My journey through struggle has shed enough light that fear will cripple me a lot when it comes to understanding my mental health. It’s okay that I don’t know what always to feel when things get hard for me mentally.

…and finally, it is absolutely OK that my writing won’t always make sense… That I won’t always feel my best about what I write or how I write. It is okay that my styles of writing differ from those whose writing I admire the most.

In time, I trust that I’ll see the beauty in the formation of my words and in the style I chose to let them flow. It is okay that I’m often unimpressed by my own writing and also occasionally pat myself in the back for even being able to put two words together that make some form of sense.

It is okay to feel doubt in myself in regard to my craft, it gives room for me to push myself further at trying to better myself. It’s okay that there’s always room for growth…and it’s absolutely okay that I wrap this up here and retire to sleep.

Today I’m gonna go straight in cause I don’t wanna loose my drift or train of thought. So I truly had an eventful past week. Eventful in that I got called fat, old and had an anxiety attack all in a span of a couple days. I can definitely say I was on a roll. Sadly, not the good kind. So to break it down for you, I’m back to school after a long eight months of being out of it.. both literally & figuratively. I won’t go into the details of the reasons why school’s back in session, its probably happening all over the world so you can take a guess on why I had to resume. It’s my last semester in college and boy am I glad. School is just one of the things that have never ever appealed to me. Its always been a circumstantial issue for me, never voluntary. If I may say so myself, I’ve hated school since I was in daycare. Anything that required me to get out of the house for an entire day in such an excruciatingly pressurized experience, never did suit me.

So yeah, back to reopening school. It being my last semester, means that I’ve got my major final exam right around the corner and it entails a project that I had already started on at the beginning of the year in my first semester. But before I even get to that, let me bring you into things in a more chronological manner. Day one was on Wednesday and I started off my term by sitting for exams that had been prior cut short right at the beginning due to the surge of covid so it meant that right after school opened, we’d resume our exams which explains why I was sitting for a paper on my first day back. Wednesday morning, I gracefully arrive in class, somewhat set to sit for my first paper and since it had been a while since my classmates had seen each other, they was already a buzz in the air of people catching up on how they’ve been. Your girl here, quiet & in her element of silence & seclusion only said hi when greeted first. I’m not what one would consider approachable to my peers, I just rather not have people be comfortable airing their lives or opinions to me cause I’ll probably drift off somewhere in my mind but I guess due to the prolonged period of absence, a classmate of mine whom to be specific I’m not so fond of, came over to my seat and was blatantly open enough to tell me how “big” I had grown and further went ahead to ask me what exactly had I been eating over that period out of school. I honestly truly try never to let such comments and snide remarks get to me on most days but this just hit a nerve. She wasn’t done though, oh no! While walking away to her seat she finalized her opinion of how ‘old looking ‘ I’ve become…. Now this just threw me off a loop and I just smiled and shrugged it off.

Her words stayed with me. It got to me. Maybe it was the way she said it or the snide tone behind her words that struck a nerve. Whichever it was, it warranted a punch to her throat. For those who may not be aware, I’m meek on the outside but I’m very violent on the inside, especially when it comes to being vengeful. It wasn’t her assumption of that I probably ate a lot over the period I was out of school that ticked me off, it was her stupidity & insensitivity in believing I cared of what she thought of me. “For your information, Joan, the extra weight on me is from the different amounts and types of antidepressants I’ve had to be on to stay alive, you insensitive piece of shit “. It doesn’t matter if she was aware of why I am bigger than she last left me, she should have kept her two cents to herself cause she unconsciously planted an insecurity I didn’t need on my first day back. Weirdly enough, she wasn’t the only one daft enough to make that comment to me, a few other girls in my class who I might mention are nothing more than just classmates, thought it was in their place to tell me about how big I’ve become. I’m gonna leave this at that cause it truly isn’t my responsibility to coach anyone on being sensitive. It’s a conscious effort from the mind, clearly not everyone has it.

Right now, the pressure is high in school and I don’t work well under pressure. I get anxious and it topples down from there rendering me completely in a state of panic. Besides my exams, I’ve got a back log of work that I should probably have been done with but didn’t get around to completing, ie my project. After a day of being back in town, I enquired from a few school mates on where they were at in their projects and most of them are done. That and learning of it’s due date being sooner than I expected, put me in a complete state of anxiety. It made feel cornered and I just wanted to hide back in my bedroom at home where it’s been my safe haven. I didn’t think being depressed would be reason valid enough to explain why I never got around to completing my project which carries part of my exams points for my final exam. My productivity was pretty much non existent ; I could only basically handle waking up and trying to live through the day but despite being aware of this, I still feel like I failed at trying to do anything productive. When I told my sister about how I was panicking and was just about to quit school and run away, she asked me about the days when I wasn’t as depressed, and why I didn’t work on it on those days. Truthfully speaking, that just aggravated my guilt on how unmotivated I was to do anything. It sure didn’t help with the anxiety, it pretty much heightened it.

For the past one month or so, I’ve been on a quest to get the right diagnosis for what exactly ails me. I’m not advocating for self prognosis. It isn’t right but for my case, all I’ve felt and still feel is helplessness when it comes to not having a concrete understanding of what happens to me when I go into a depressive state of mind. My mind has conjured everything and anything under the sun to try make sense of what goes wrong but even with my search for an answer, I still intend to get a professional psychiatrical opinion and evaluation. Besides wanting to know what goes wrong, I want to finally have the validity of reason to explain why certain things for me are more difficult to either achieve or to stop. It is frustrating not feeling valid even in turmoil and darkness. It begs the question of how do I prove to the world that I don’t always have an answer for what happens to me or for why I do or feel or react to things in a certain way. How do I prove that it’s not just all in my head and that there’s a messed up reason for the things that happen. I know I shouldn’t try to prove it to anyone, I owe it to no one. I know it’s an illness but I need the world around me not to look at me like some narcissistic cynic who slits her wrist for pleasure. I don’t know if I’m making sense anymore, or at all.

So here I am, still trying to calm down from the anxiety and formulate a plan on how to start working again on my project in a more clear mind. So that’s been my eventful first week back in school, I’m the fat old lady with anxiety 😊…

P. S I took this cute photos of myself today cause I felt like I’ve not seen myself remotely look pretty in forever so I’m going to share this with you just cause I think they are kinda cute.😄

I’m going to try be brief cause whenever I have something I wanna write about, I slightly loose focus and the beginning of the blog throws me off a little every time. So we are in a new year, yeeei!!! That’s me being as enthusiastic as I can possibly get. But despite my bummed out funk, I do have a few things that I’ve chosen to pursue over the course of the year. I’ve probably mentioned before how clueless it gets for me to understand the concept of self love. I can’t exactly say I understand it but I’m choosing to quit looking at it like some sort of math equation with a more fucked up solution. So I choose to decide that whatever it is I’ll pursue to do that will bring me any remotely good, nice fuzzy feeling, will be my form of self love.

For starters, I just had this wonderful idea to go on a date with myself every once a month. Dress however my mood fits & just go have something that will appease both my mind and belly. I will set for a day every month to accommodate myself and whatever needs I feel I have over that specific period of time. This will allow me not to have multiple anxieties over what to wear, how much money I’ll need to spend, whether my date will be on time and whether I can get to wherever the date will be, all just because I’ll have the ball in my court. It will be just me & I’ll be fine with that. It won’t matter what time or place I chose to have this date but what will matter is that I’ll find worth in being able to simply let go and feel content by myself.

As brief as I’m trying to be, one other thing I want to pledge myself to put on hold is getting a tattoo this year. I believe I have had my fair share of tattoos over the past three years and taking a break from getting any more will allow me to quit dwelling on the heavy emotions that are on most times my muse on the said tattoos . This does not at all mean I regret any of the tattoos I have gotten, I treasure them immensely because they are a part of my story & history. All I’m choosing, is to put on hold getting any more tattoos over the year and just rather cherishing those I already have on me.

I really don’t have much I want to expect from the new year, I’d rather not put pressure on myself & on the year as well. I know it sounds like a cowardly move but I really just want a quiet year without too much sorrow, too much pain, too much heart ache and with just enough happiness to keep me going. Until I feel ready to tackle the world and throw at it every dream and wish I have, I’m choosing to let the world guide me and take it a day at time. Happy New Year 2020.

P. S Just a quick reminder, this year we don’t take trash sex, no trash foreplay and definitely no manhandling of tits.✊🏾

…Take it down a notch

Today I had a very meaningful conversation with a close friend of mine who really got me seeing things a little better than I was previously. This year I turn twenty-one and it’s been one of the most exciting feelings I have had. I don’t exactly have a special reason for feeling this about turning 21 years but it’s always felt like the bridge I needed to cross into fully embracing growth & adulting. Though, I didn’t think it would come this fast but here I am now.

The conversation I had today felt & legitimately was those eye opening kind of conversations that sorta are life changing in some way but you gotta internalize what exactly you want to change. This is me internalizing.

I got to see a certain aspect differently and it got me thinking…I got my first tattoo newly right after highschool at eighteen and it’s not your average kind of thing for someone newly just legal and still living entirely under their parents supervision. At least not in Kenya that is. Apart from that, it’s not really a secret that I am a bit vast in sex technically…

p.s It’s a bit embarrassing saying it like that. So anyway, simply what I’m trying to point out is that I have experienced and done quite a couple things that a larger majority of people my age have not and I have always known that about myself & felt good about it. Despite it all, today I got to feel that maybe I just might have grown up a little bit faster than I should have initially done.

In my case, I believe I gained a lot of freedom being raised for the past seven years by my dad alone. Him being a very cool down to earth kind of guy didn’t really put pressure on either me or my sister in those couple years we have been just the three of us. Honestly, I knew my father wouldn’t fret about me getting a tattoo cause we had come to a cordial understanding that after I completed highschool, whatever decision I would make that would be major or life changing would completely fall on me. I would be sourly responsible for it and take full responsibility of the consequences as well. For that, I am sourly grateful for his trust in me to make right choices for myself.

With turning twenty one, a lot of things feel quite overwhelming for me. I’m at a point in my life, everything feels like its moving a tad too fast for me. I’ve always sorta known that I was an early maturer, not just physically but mentally and intellectually as well. I think cause of that fact, I have missed a couple of stages I should have rightfully experienced according to age. When I say that I feel like everything is moving a tad too fast for me its not necessarily in the Kylie Jenner kind of way of owning a multi million business. This is completely personal for me. I have given a lot of priority to so many things that shouldn’t have exactly been a priority for me at this exact period of time. I have just recently honestly decided to quit worrying too much about getting a child at this exact age and getting a father for that child along with it. I have previously expressed my yearning for having my own child and how much I can’t wait to be a mum and it took quite a lot of therapy and advice to tone it down and see it wasn’t the piece of cake I thought it would be. Again, I was so driven by my yearning to get a child and it made me reckless in wanting a partner. I felt like I needed to put myself out there and shuffle through different ways of meeting potential men worth being life partners and possible baby daddies. All this, I have been doing while being between nineteen years old & recently turning twenty.

This year was my year of blooming and it drove me to be so sexually curious about so much. I have been going kink crazy, even as far as going on a date with a dominant man. All this is what I’m simply summing up as all the things I have been busy going nuts over trying to get done and I have not had a chance to simply enjoy being young and not worrying so much. The conversation I had gave me a chance to see that maybe I should allow myself to take it down a notch and simply live. I’ve been racing with time cause I wanted to start popping babies early and it’s pushed to trying to get the right guy and honestly now that I think about it, I’ve been running around like a headless chicken trying to get things done before I age too fast. Its not easy for me to just simply up and drop everything I have been so intent on achieving. It’s overwhelming now when I realize I need to live and be young and just be twenty years old.

I believe a lot of things of how I have been growing beyond my time would be different if my mum was around. I don’t mean to say that my life choices suck or I’m a wreck cause I don’t have her around ,what I mean to say is, had I had her with me, my life would be completely different in every aspect and I have always known that. Now that I know and want to slow down, I am grateful to have had that eye opening moment to learn that I shouldn’t rush life and should take it a step at a time. This for me, is what I now truly feel as me blooming and growing. ✌🏿

Staying Woke ✊🏿

So earlier today I was scrolling through my twitter and I came across a video that really got me thinking about a now common aspect that’s a touchy subject to most but it’s present especially among the millennials.This is the link to the video http://Check out @Refinery29’s Tweet: https://twitter.com/Refinery29/status/1115343555432787972?s=09… I won’t really delve into what the video contained but those who will read this by any chance can tap on the link to see what exactly it was about.

[wpvideo qyBYZ3aX data-temp-aztec-id=”081ca701-45da-47b7-b797-b555e1b8f7cc”]

So the elephant in the ‘room’ in this case is how I have viewed and felt about homosexuality for the time I have known about it and learned what it entails. To be pretty honest ,it’s one of the topics I have truly tried to avoid having to write about in hopes to not offend anyone who may have reservations about it whether be it positive or negative. But today I am choosing to write about it because it’s no longer a subject that’s behind the shadows or hidden but it’s openly discussed .Then again, I constantly have to remind myself and those who take their time to read my blog/person journal that I don’t write for them, I write as a means of expressing my thoughts and feelings about what I experience in life.

When I saw this video, it felt a lot like a blind fold was taken off my eyes and I viewed the video not as two lesbians having a heart to heart conversation about their relationship but as two souls in love and it was honestly the most beautiful expression of love that I haven’t seen in a while. Previously I have had so many reservations about this specific topic because I have had it in mind to be hesitant in accepting something new and completely against a whole lot of my beliefs and principles that I got to be raised in. It went against not just my cultural beliefs but also my religious beliefs and how it’s perceived in Christianity. I guess I didn’t really know how to wrap my head around it and not be a stereotype about it but at the same time try understand what it entirely is about and why it seems to be such a taboo of a topic.

At first I was more of unbothered about it than open to it but that’s until I got to be in the middle of dramatic relationship whereby this specific aspect was the greatest factor. That period of time and experience with homosexuality really damaged my view on it. It felt a lot like it came along with immaturity of the said party and irresponsibility, emotional instability and just plain havoc especially because I was on the receiving end of all those negative outcomes. That whole experience gave me enough reason to feel homophobic just cause I had a terrible time .I realize now that I shouldn’t have been that fast to judge and jump to conclusions about homosexuals just from one bad experience with one person… Now I actually feel apologetic towards not having dealt with the situation better.

Despite what I may think and all my beliefs regarding homosexuality, I now think that with the growing culture existent and diversity in life, I’m no one to judge why people choose who they choose to love. I’m just one person who can either choose to be closed minded of such people and their culture or accept that it’s the life they have chosen for themselves and if it makes them happy, I’m no one to stand against their happiness. Love truly doesn’t have a choice and it’s not limited on specifics .Its non judgemental and free. So I may not understand the concept of loving someone of the same sex but I will allow myself to not look at them from a stereotypical point of view. That video really touched a part of me and the genuine emotion in the air between those two lovers was one that was quite undeniable. I acknowledge that probably not everyone who’s gonna read this will see it like I am now but well,its their choice. I am not writing about it to get validation on it, let me make that clear. It’s simply me acknowledging that now I think differently concerning it and I will strive to understand more other than jump into judging them. I’m staying woke people, you should too. ✌🏿

Fat doesn’t always feel pretty 😔

I think as a plus size girl am bound to constantly have to remind myself that having a bit of flab on every curve of my body isn’t something I should be ashamed of .Reminding myself isn’t what’s hard, it’s believing it that can take quite a toll on me. Getting to the point where I don’t need to constantly remind myself that being fat shouldn’t override everything else about me isn’t a walk in the park. It shouldn’t be what feels like my main determining factor of what kind of person I am or whether I qualify for one thing or the other but sometimes it sure feels like it is.

I wasn’t meant to write about this but I guess it was long overdue anyway… I recently experienced a situation where I feel like my weight or my physical appearance became the reason I felt a very overwhelming sense of rejection. Sad to say, it honestly felt like shit. I went for it with everything I got but that one factor(my weight in this case) about myself overshadowed everything else about me that I’m proud of and that didn’t settle well with me…not my reserved laid back personality, not my very large but still existent sense of humor & not my cute adorable face was the reason behind the rejection, it was my weight.

Do I hate that despite the countless times I have pep-talked myself that am gorgeous even with my very flabby belly & stretch marks that grace my arms like tyre tracks ,I still feel insecure countlessly???Of course I hate it. Those moments when I wish I could suck my stomach in enough to have it completely if not remotely flat are not my greatest moments. The moments I tell myself that no possible cute/hot guy would want a girl with spilling curves are as many of the times I have come across those cute guys. Simply what I mean to say is that saying it countless times that I am beautiful and deserving of everything great in the world doesn’t always have to make believing it the easiest thing. I appreciate the moments when I feel gorgeous and beautiful in an outfit that brings out my curves because it’s in those moments when I’m able to feel confident not just about who I am as a person but also as an outstanding plus size girl. I hope to grow into those moments more and more each time and with each time slowly erase those moments when I feel unworthy of the beautiful things the world has to offer.

After that one situation of rejection, I needed to let it out to allow myself to remember that I wasn’t the problem. My physical appearance was not my fault and it never has to feel like its a fault to anyone and most especially to me. If I have to countlessly remind myself that I’m beautiful on the inside and out so it can stick in my mind not just as a saying but as a truth ,so be it…I hope to constantly have the strength to put off those waking hours when I feel unworthy even despite future rejections that may occur. I’m sure as hell better than believing them. ✊🏿