The Issue of Likability

I was bullied in secondary school and one of the reasons was that I didn’t have big breasts or a big butt. In other words, I wasn’t likable. I always felt bad and I kept questioning God and I asked him why He made me not to have the “assets” as they would call it.

Fast forward, I finally hit puberty and I started having a big butt. I thought things were settled and I was really happy. I thought I was finally likable. I was no longer in secondary school and I was more mature than I was but I was still struggling with being likable. This time it came with more pressure.

Before now, it was just my dad and I that lived together. I didn’t really go out, I didn’t know how to use make up or dress up so girlie. I hate pink honestly but when I was resuming university, I had a lot of pink and girlie stuff. I was really trying but it just wasn’t me.

I noticed boys liked the girls who were girlie more and I was really trying to be all that but it obviously didn’t work. Later a trend of boys liking girls who were “themselves” came. I thought it was good and I just started being myself. Now I wore makeup because I felt like and I kind of adjusted to being girlie but I still wore my dark colors and just whatever I wanted to wear. But that wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t good enough because these boys had their own definition of being yourself. Being yourself to most of them meant being a bad girl because they believe that how you’re meant to be. I was bad but I wasn’t the type of bad they liked.

Then they started liking good girls, girls that like to cook, girls that are creative and all. I consider myself a good girl and I’m reserved so I was like finally, my type is being likable. I can cook to an extent, I like it sometimes I love it but it is not an everyday thing for me. A lot of times I don’t feel like but then I started making myself feel like because I wanted to be likable. I am not very creative, I mean I love to write and I think I write well, but I’m not exactly the type of girl to invent a fashion trend or invent a new hairstyle or anything like that.

Then the trends of boys liking girls who like certain music came, or girls who had lit snap chats and more standards of likability were being set by boys for girls. I got tired. I don’t have to be likable. In fact, what is likability?

Things are so bad for some of us girls, that we shape ourselves to behave in a certain manner or do some certain things to be likable. A group of girls are being nominated for something, a certain girl clearly deserves it but then we start to question if she is likable or not.

A clear political issue becomes an issue of likability when it comes to women. “What do the men think of her?” these are not necessarily spoken questions but are always asked by our actions.

I gave up on being likable. I like dark colors, I like to use makeup when I like, I like natural hair. I cannot kill myself. The only questions a woman should ask herself when it comes to being liked are “Does God love me this way?” “Do I love myself?”

Stop trying to be likable by these men and stop letting those women make you feel you have to. The right man will come, and baby girl you got God. You got Jesus.

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YOU ARE A QUEEN EVEN WITHOUT A MAN

They often ask, what is a Queen without a King?

And I ask, what is a King without a Queen?

 Most things depend on perspective. For instance, in many African traditions, a man needs a wife to become king

and a woman needs a man or king to become queen. In this case, a man needs a woman and a woman needs a man.

Outside that, a woman can fully attain the position of a Queen without a man and vice versa.

In my kingdom, I don’t need a man to make me Queen. If I’m worthy, I’m worthy (full stop).

If I meet a King ruling his own kingdom and he finds me worthy of him and I also find him worthy of me, then, we can come together to build our own kingdom and rule it together, while we still fully take charges of each of our own personal kingdoms. We will support each other. No one treats anyone less than they should be treated.

NB: A Queen in this context could also mean a woman in power, a successful woman, a leader etc.

As a lady or woman, you shouldn’t let society let you feel like you’re going to, or you are intimidating men with your success. Your success should have absolutely no bounds. If he can reach for success without limits why can’t you?

Be your own lady, don’t let society dictate the type of lady you should be.

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Your Standards Or My Standards?

Not that I cared what anyone said, but I just felt it was necessary to meet up the standards.

But then again I thought to myself, were these standards really for me? Are these my kind of things? This was different from feeling among, it was just the expected thing to do. It was something “everyone” did…what was the big deal?

I then noticed that although those were the standards, these standards weren’t mine. I am different, and I guess it’s okay to be right?

I like my quiet space; I like to wear big clothes and crocs. I like to leave my natural hair, and I might like some makeup on.

I think I enjoy some parties, but not because that is the standard but because it is what I like,

I don’t want to live by standards, rather, I want to do things because I enjoy them,

I don’t want my life patterned according to standards.

I’m always judged because of the criteria I choose for myself, selected by myself

I couldn’t keep up with the world's standards

No matter how hard I try, I don’t fit into those clothes

I try to fit them to my perfect size, but it can never be perfect on me like a piece that is meant for me.

If I’m living this way, it’s purely because that is what I want, and that’s what makes ME up…

…life’s too short not to live by your rules as long as they are right.

True happiness lies in being yourself, a lot of people try to be who they are not and claim to stand out. But the truth is those who stand out are those who are themselves irrespective of the standards other have set for them, everyone else just tries to meet up with the criteria, making them like everyone else.

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The Point In Our Lives...

I believe there is a point in our lives when the aroma of our dreams and future goals fills our minds, and it’s like everything is happening fast. The future is near, like some of the things we imagined as young children were finally close to happening. First, you graduated high school, then got admitted into the University, matriculated, and now your graduation is visible.

At different stages in life, different things were priorities at those times. Some were realistic, others unrealistic. Some were “making sense” and some were just stupid and you look back to those times and ask yourself what you were thinking.

There was a time in your life all that mattered were food, parties and party packs. At another point it was looking good at school, getting accepted and being popular; keeping up with all the latest music, movies, celebrity gist and all sorts. Then you proceeded to date by all means because that is “the shii”.

But there is this very point that it dawns on you, you’re no longer a child, and you need to start getting your life pieces together. At this stage, some things don’t exactly matter…you start to think: I’m rounding up my degree soon, after this mini-universe, what is next?

The thoughts of establishing yourself set in. You start to wonder, what exactly do I want to do in life? How do I work towards getting this? You think of your future family. In general, you think of the quality of life you want. You have those big dreams and goals. How do you plan on realistically pursuing them and not just sitting down at the corner of your room, thinking and smiling?

This is the point where you drop those people who are not helping you. This is very straight forward. If they do not ask you about how you plan on achieving that great idea you brought up, even if they wake you up to read at night, are they worth it? Roll more with people that are equally working towards their dreams and goals; they will serve as motivation. And also people that will encourage you. This time, you don’t have space for junk friends.

You will face many difficulties and challenges. You will be told you’re not good enough; People will have you compared. But the difference between you and those who just think and smile is that you will not let yourself drown in the river of “pullbacks”, you will keep your head up high till you come out successful.

This point is a very sensitive part of your life. It is when the decisions you take make or break you. Make your choices carefully, above all seek the help of your Maker.

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Still Not Good Enough?

She wore a touch of red because of his policy, “red defines a classy woman”
She packed her hair up tightly because he said she only looked beautiful with her hair up, even when she was highly in discomfort,
She danced only to his rhythm because that was the best she heard,
She applied different lotions to meet his specification of ‘complexion’
But she was not good enough for him.

She did not see beyond the four corners of his wall,
When in the midst of a crowd all she saw was his face,
Her thinking was structured around his beliefs,
Her plans, around his pleasures,
She was not still good enough for him.

She felt only powerful when she was with him,
Outside him, she felt powerless,
She viewed her life from his perspective,
Believed she was only what he described her to be,
He was still not satisfied with her.

All her life, she did everything according to his standards…

She suddenly met herself in a different world,
The world she had never imagined,
The world full of mysteries,
The world she could not explain,
The world that is real.

She saw how differently she was viewed,
How differently she was described,
How powerful she was,
She saw how limitless her abilities were,
And how beautiful she felt without him.

She discovered there were no limits to her power,
To her strength,
To her beauty,
To her imagination,
And to the richness of her mind.

She is an independent woman,

That does not live by the definitions by people nor her flaws,
Does not need a man’s approval for her confidence,
She has a free soul,
Every cell she’s made up of is pure and beautiful, beneath and outside

She is unbothered by your judgement…
Above all, she is wonderfully made by the greatest artist.

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Much Ado About A Mirage

I was staring at the sanitary towels for a while when Sandra tapped me and said “Babes give me the pad na”. I forced a smile and handed over the sanitary towels to her.

My mom had gone for a meeting early that morning, leaving my siblings, a family friend, Pastor Joshua and I in the house. We had all woken up late that morning. I dragged myself to the kitchen at almost 12pm to make breakfast. I was wearing the pajamas mom had bought me from her last trip. It was a short and a tank top. She would usually tell me to change the shorts when I’m coming downstairs but that day I felt there was no time and everyone in the house was up, I had to get to the kitchen quickly, besides mom had gone out.

I was rushing to make the food which was yam and egg sauce as my mom had instructed. The yam was on fire and I was about to take part of the frozen pepper from the plastic bowl when it fell. I was bending down to pick it when Pastor Joshua walked into the kitchen. He was looking at me and smiling and I smiled back. I did not read any meaning, he is a pastor…

I dished everyone’s food and went up to my room to eat. I was watching a series on my laptop when I heard a knock on my door. I shouted “come in!” Pastor Joshua came in. I was surprised. I thought it was my youngest sister, Jenny. He usually just knocked on my door and passed his message without entering. What could he possibly want in my room? At that time I had already changed my shorts to a long pajama pant. I sat up and removed my earphones and said nothing.

“Emerald!!!” Sandra shouted “What have you been thinking of since?” she asked
“Me, think?” I replied. She knew I was lying and gave me “that look” till I spoke up.
“Sandra, I think I’m pregnant” I said with all the energy I had at that moment. She laughed and laughed, I was just looking at her. She could never understand.
“You? Pregnant??” she finally said after laughing for about five minutes straight. I was quiet because I could not even explain it myself.

Pastor Joshua is like a son to my dad. He had been coming to spend time at our house since like forever. He was a man of God, as far as I could recall. He would never want to touch me, he was too decent for that. “Relax Emerald” I told myself. He moved closer to me. I was still there, unsure of what to do, unsure of what was happening. “He is a pastor” I kept telling myself. He began touching my laps and slowly, moving his hands into my pants. Before I knew it, I had fallen like rain. I felt weak. We began to make out then he threw me on the bed, he helped me take my clothes off and he took his off too.

He was about to go in when I got the strength from nowhere and I pushed him away. He tried to get me back to lay on the bed but I was fast. I got hold of the dansiki on my chair and wore it as fast as I could. I ran outside, just to find out my mom was back. I greeted her but she was looking at me strangely. I was scared, maybe she knew what I had done. I was about to cry when she said “why are you wearing your dansiki inside out?” she laughed and went to her room.

I went back to my room and of course he had left. I locked my door, had my bath and sat on my bed. I prayed so hard for God to forgive me. When I came out of my room, my sister told me he had left, that he told mom he had something to do at his house. Since then I had not been able to put my mind to rest, especially as I had not seen my period in almost two months.

Sandra looked at me and started laughing. In my mind I was damning her. Why was she laughing? This was not a joke.
“Madam Emerald, you’re an eighteen year old, currently in her second year studying medicine and you still don’t know that it is when a male and a female have sex that the female can be pregnant? You fall hand!” She said angrily and hissed. I later remembered that sometimes my period was like that.

I let the fear of one mistake take over my reasoning.

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Battle

“I tried to reach out, the more I screamed the more I faded. I struggled and struggled to let loose but the more I did the more I was wrapped up. I made efforts to get a grip of myself but I was going, there was only little left. I began to scream even louder, but I could not hear myself, I could only hear its voice. I tried to fetch up my remains but the more I attempted it the lower I went. I realized I was gone and all that were left were traces of my old self, the old me was gone. 
“Come back! Come back!!” I cried. The new me was trying to take over but I kept trying hold on to the past, but all I could hold were memories. Days moved, weeks walked, months ran and the year flew. Then, it dawned on me! All I had left were mere memories. I had to accept it. A new me has come to stay!!”

In life...there are times when we just have to give up our old and usual life patterns and embrace new ones in order to move on. It is never easy to let go of the past but we should not let it tie us down either. 

-J

xo

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