Get Married Or Else ...

Get married or move out.

That was the ultimatum I got from my mummy over the weekend.

I was at a loss for words, really. Not for the obvious reasons of

a. What kind of ultimatum is this?
b. Where is this coming from? Cos I knew the woman had been grudgingly counting the days till I brought home a beau.
c. Where am I supposed to find a man within your allotted deadline?

No.
My total loss of speech came from the ramifications of what her ultimatum meant. I CAN FINALLY MOVE OUT. The word FINALLY kept reechoing in my head. A moment later I was grinning like a Cheshire cat – ‘She don’t know me very well, does she’? (In Bugs Bunny’s voice)

You see, I am stuck living at home just because I am not married. As an unmarried lady I am mandated to live at home which is far from everything and everywhere important (to me). Don’t get me wrong, living at home does have its perks – free room and board, free food, company when you feel like talking – I get to save more but boy do I dream of living by myself which in my case had always been a futile dream. I was filled with joy, even if it was short lived (sob, sob).

She remembered who she was speaking to and took back her words.

I could see the wheels turning in her head as she said ‘I think I spoke too harshly, you don’t need to move out’. She must have recalled that this was her head strong daughter who time without number had proved resourceful in fending for herself financially and otherwise –when she forbade the purchase of a car and land and I went right ahead and bought both anyway or the dreadlocked hair guy I brought home for Christmas just to scare my father (that was funny). I could see her listing the different little ways I have defied parental influence and struck out on my own.

The cajoling started.

In the few moments before my mum’s threat was retracted I had pictured the self contain flat I would live, which would be close to work, with fairly regular power supply and solitude. In my head it was heavenly. And then puff, it was just a dream.

Maybe I will rebel. Someday.

So until some guy comes to pay for me to come live with him, I am stuck living at home. This does not bring me an ounce of joy. Whyyyyyyyy?

The Overflowing

I came home one hot Saturday afternoon dripping from head to toe after much haggling and lugging my heavy load from the market, my patience had been tested and pushed to its limit but thankfully I was able to hold my cool.

I dropped off my things and headed straight for the fridge to pick up the cold bottle of coke I had left before leaving for the market but it wasn’t there. I could feel my face heating up and annoyance boiling in my chest. I walked to the staircase and just as I was about to shout at the top of my voice “Who took my coke from the fridge?” I saw my brother in the living room holding on to my precious chilled bottle of coke, taunting me.

The little rascal turned it into a game of kick the coke. By the time I got a hold of it, I opened the bottle without much thought and the contents flew everywhere.

I snapped and responded on impulse by kicking the scoundrel a little over 3 times and flung the erupting bottle in my blind rage. “This was all your fault you ninny. Next time when you see what belongs to me you’ll leave it be”, I screamed. Walking outside to get a mop to clean up the mess further compounded by my tantrum, I kicked and shouted at my poor puppy who came wagging its unassuming tail looking for a back rub. (Timing dude).

After cleaning up the mess, I held the empty bottle of coke in my hands and analyzed my actions.

I was an ass. And the kicking and screaming was uncalled for but what’s done is done.

I apologized to my brother and went back to pat my puppy. Humans are less forgiving than animals. While my puppy couldn’t recall my outburst, my brother did and still does. What a mess. I wasn’t pissed about the coke upon deeper reflection, but my outburst was borne out of suppressed annoyances I had swallowed throughout the day and probably the week.

We sometimes slip into blind rage sometimes and if we dig deep we will find that the situation didn’t always warrant the explosion. My explosive anger is a lot like the overflowing bottle of coke whose explosion comes by turning the cap ever so slightly open.

In All Honesty

“Your boyfriend is cheating on you and using you for your money”.
I got slapped. And called a home wrecker.

Yep that’s what I got for my honesty.

We live in a world where honesty is a little overrated. No one wants to hear the truth anymore even if it’s staring them in the face.

I read somewhere today that people appreciate honesty. Tell that to the person who bruised my cheek (Ouch). In my opinion, deep down, people appreciate honesty but often times interpret honesty as criticism especially when they know you are actually speaking the truth. No one likes to be wrong which further makes honesty uncomfortable to swallow.

What then is the right way to be honest? Is there really an appropriate honesty filter or process that can be followed step by step so as to elicit the ‘right’ response of acceptance, non-violence or slight? If you do have such a mode, I would be happy to watch you deliver honest truths and observe as the chips fall where they may.
My new policy is to bite my tongue and keep my comments and honest opinions to myself. I know he’s cheating on you – I pretend I didn’t see him; she’s toying with your emotions – I have no opinion on your relationship; I have no say in your matter but I can offer a shoulder to cry on if and when things fall apart.

In the minds of some I might not be a good friend but I have learnt from experience that as much as we advocate honesty we really don’t want to hear it.

I was once in an ‘honest’ relationship. We agreed to tell each other everything no matter what but when push came to shove honesty became the beginning of the end. He cheated and grudgingly but honestly came clean and I was fine. I kissed someone else and also came clean but I never heard the end of it.

You see, honesty in theory is a fantastic concept but the application thereof is something else entirely. We are humans wired differently from experiences that have shaped our lives. So honesty to each person is relative to his/her defense mechanism – all my opinion though.

Proverbs 27:9 says the heartfelt counsel of a friend is as sweet as perfume and incense, the word friend also is relative.

In dispensing honest truths, motives or perceived motives are also examined. As with the slap I received from telling my friend the home truth, my motives were misinterpreted.

I know my friend believed me but as many other people, she chose to hold on desperately to the lie that had become her reality. I should have realized that and let things be as my honesty was going to deny her the pseudo-happiness she enjoyed. Honesty in this case would be stating the very obvious.
Henceforth, I’d keep my mouth shut and let time do the unveiling. Time would also do the healing.

Be Grateful

I’ve been reading and hearing a lot about gratitude. All the materials sound alike.

- Everything happens for a reason
- Appreciate the things you have now in anticipation of the things you want
- Smile
- Consider others
- Being thankful now opens doors

It goes on and on about being thankful but no one talks about how difficult, this seemingly easy attitude is. As humans we are naturally programmed to whine about the things that didn’t go right, the things that should’ve been ours and the things we want but cannot afford or have. It’s easier to remember the missing elements than to appreciate the things we have that are right before our eyes. They always seem to be insignificant or we just take them for granted.

In all honesty, as much as I want to focus on the things I have now I can’t help but be a little peeved about the things I don’t yet have. That significant career move I have dreamed of for so long; or that jeep glittering in the sun; or the hot intelligent guy that’s gaga for me (LOL) etcetera and so forth. But daily I strive to be a little more content and appreciative of the things I do have as opposed to the things I don’t yet have.

I was thinking today about the little things that we take for granted and it struck me that it’s the little ‘unimportant’ things that we have that we should be abundantly grateful for.

I woke up this morning at 5.15am, swung my leg off the bed put on my exercise gear and sweated it out for 30minutes. Took a shower, dressed up after trying 3 different outfits, got into my car and drove to work hassle free while I shook my head pitifully at the poor motor owners who were pulled over by Policemen, LASTMA and Road Safety officials respectively. I got to work ahead of resumption time - no stress, not wahala, no fuss. I have it good I must say, compared to some people but yet I find some reason to complain.

What’s my point, you might be asking? My point is, someone else did not wake up this morning or woke up and discovered she couldn’t move. I have heard stories and seen a few also of people who died on their way to work – crushed underneath the tyre of a trailer, people who because of LASTMA got to work late today and got a query and salary deduction. Someone who does not have a closet full of cloths and deciding what to wear to work is a no brainer.

In church last night someone shared a testimony about her mum who was in an accident but survived with scars on her face while the other passenger died. I think the lady who died would’ve welcomed the option of living with a scarred face instead of death.

I am a complainer, a worrier, prone to anxiety attacks just because I need things to go well. I am learning everyday to appreciate the little things, the gift of life, the value of friendships and the bond of family. In the end, it’s the small stuff that really matters.

So when you feel that whine creeping up your lips, shove it back down and instead, focus on the things you do have – you are alive and that should count for something.

Be grateful. It could’ve been worse.

Forgiveness

I say I forgave but I ask myself now, did I really?

If forgiveness is setting the person who wronged and hurt you free then why I do I still feel pain when I remember? I am plagued with this question as I am not sure if I am practicing true Christianity.

I want to forgive, I want to move on, I want to forget and I want to live pain free. But when will that happen?

What’s the gestation period? How do I know I am finally free?

I stumbled on some new information about things I was lied to about and I find I do not know how to react. I still feel pain and a fleeting moment of regret, and a certain wistful sadness when flashbacks come at the most unwanted moments.

I forgave and I make it a duty to say it out loud every day. Am I just trying to convince myself or have I finally and forever let it go?

I am confused.