Posts tagged growth

The Year I Bonded With a Beast

I need to put this on record; I need all and sundry to know that 2021 is the year I got to finally let myself trust a beast.

I met Simon on Christmas day. Our relationship went from “hold your dog. Don’t let him come near me…I love dogs, but from afar. I don’t trust them” to “hello, Simon. Did you miss me? Good boy!” While patting his head or letting him have my fingers in his mouth. The transition happened within a space of two or three days. This right here, is what I call growth. Probably my most significant growth in 2021. My dad must be really proud cos the last of his offspring finally bonded with at least one dog in her lifetime (man was a huge dog person and owned quite a number).

Can you believe I trust that white furry beast, enough to let it eat from my hand and lick it? Of course, you can. Why wouldn’t you? I just said I let it playfully bite my fingers —”while letting him have my fingers in his mouth.” Best part of having a dog as friend is the burst of excitement when it sights you. Oh my! Makes you feel like the best thing to have happened to the universe.

There’s been some other growth and beautiful experiences this year. I started a saving plan with Cowrywise on my birthday, in August—oh, my. This one is really hard. It takes a lot of discipline to be consistent, considering that I have no stable source of income. I just saved for the month of December and it took a whole lot of strength to do. The amount I save monthly is probably a friend’s daily feeding allowance, but trust me, taking that sum aside made me feel feverish. My only cure right now is credit alerts upon credit alerts.

In addition, I eventually got comfortable with twenty-five (could be better); interned in a company of my choice, an international one; made good connections; and I got my first paid writing job too…I could go on and on, but I won’t.

About the writing job, it started with this beautiful young lady, of whom I’m a fan, sliding into my DM on WhatsApp and asking, like two thousand and twenty one others before her have, “Soniaaaaa, do you take content writing jobs?” My heart first did a quick leap as in a contemporary dance, before I could give an answer— it leaped out of anxiety, not joy. I was about to give my usual flat “no,” but you know that saying by Chinua Achebe, that a sparkling clean bank account is the beginning of wisdom? That happened to me. The state of my bank account spoke to me “ji, ma sun!” and it pushed me to modify my usual response to a “I don’t, but I could.”

You’re probably thinking if that was necessary. I mean, I could have just said yes cos “fake it until you make it.” No? Let’s just say I gave that response cos honesty is important to me and partly because I was giving her a chance to walk away and go find an experienced professional writer. Why would I do that? Well, well, I guess we have imposter syndrome to blame. It’s crazy, considering the fact that I’ve been doing free jobs for friends.

As the universe would have it, the job was mine to execute, cos why else would my client (this feels good to say) just say “oh,
greaaaaatttt!” and trust me with the job?

I eventually got the job done and got my pay. I even got tipped. You know what that tip did to my confidence, ehn? Oh la-la! In other news, guys, I’m available to accept writing jobs. You know, with that money I earned, I could have been a land owner on Banana Island and acquired some properties in Maldives, but I chose not to, cos I honestly can’t deal with harassment from EFCC right now.

If I had to award one month most generous month of the year, it would be December: My first writing gig was in December. I met and bonded with Simon in December; got the most credit alerts; had my first ever karaoke; learnt to play Monopoly; let myself drink more than a glass of wine outside my home… In short, I let my wings spread wide in December.

While I may not have had what most consider a major breakthrough, I’m very thankful for the little wins which are big to me. Overall, 2021 was good to me. I’m even more positive about 2022.

Happy New Year, dearly beloved readers. You’re the reason I write. Thank you for always listening.

While we drink to a prosperous 2022, don’t forget to bring gigs—especially ones that would give me Elon’s kind of wealth. I’m just one mail away.

Contd: FIGHTING MY DEMONS 2

My insecurities blew me off my feet in senior secondary school. In fact, it twirled me like a tornado and threw me hard against a rock. I will never tire of saying, my school had really beautiful girls, intimidatingly beautiful ones with nice edowments, I mean the complete package. If you know, you know. I felt invisible but I thrived on my performance in class. My confidence in Beauty was a zero while my confidence in Brains was an almost 100. I thought I was brains with no beauty, hence felt insulted whenever told I was beautiful by the opposite sex. But from girls, I just thought they were being nice. I had friends with both beauty and brains, I envied them a lot. I also envied girls that didn’t have to wear a ball dress camouflaged as school skirt just to hide their flaws.

I had lots of insecurities growing up, after adolescence. Those earlier mentioned are just some . I didn’t like my dentition and the colour of my teeth, I wanted perfectly white teeth , that explains why I have no picture of me smiling in my picture album. I hated my too wide lips, that explains my pouting which has now become a habit. I started to pout before it became a trend, I didn’t even know there was a name for it. I wished I could have surgery on my feet to make them smaller, just so it wouldn’t look like I was wearing oversized shoes when in fact, I was wearing mostly tight shoes. I didn’t like my cheeks until later in senior secondary school cos I thought I looked like the drawing on the cheese balls pack I loved so well. I didn’t like my derriere, i hated the fact that it had a mind of its own. I didn’t like how I walked cos mum said I walked like an old woman with waist pain. I had issues with my complexion in SSS, one would think I was competing with the sun, I hated that It made me too conspicuous . What didn’t I hate about me?? The girl who used to be a picture freak became camera shy. I could have erased myself off earth if I could.

Have you seen me recently? You’ll be shocked or almost shocked cos I look nothing like the girl I just described… Behttt I’m still shy. Have you seen my wardrobe, did you notice the length of my skirts and dresses ? Have you seen my pictures lately, did you notice how much I smile now and how much of a picture freak I’ve become ?? Oh Lawd. I have grown a whole lot. I have come to love my body and to see the beauty in my flaws. It took years and compliments from people I trusted not to mess with my head to see the beauty I refused to see in myself for years. I got over my insecurities by seeing myself through the eyes of others first, I looked at my body more in the mirror . I focused on my supposed flaws more, got used to seeing them and started to realize, they weren’t as bad as I thought. With time, I didn’t stop at just accepting these flaws, I started to see the beauty enclosed in them. There are times I have just a flash of doubt but I never allow it change my opinion of me.

My insecurities stopped me from doing a lot of things and altered my personality. They made me second guess myself… I never felt beautiful enough. These days, I almost get tipsy from staring too much at my reflection. I still get amazed at God’s artistry on my body. It’s ironic how I now see some of my then worst features as my best. I’m obsessed with my wide lips and stripes on my derriere, I love my height, until I need to reach something really high, I still don’t envy tall people. I wouldn’t change these things for anything, I find them really cute.

Never let anyone’s negative opinion of your looks matter, now I mean your physical/structural features, not dressing. Nothing beats self confidence, it can take you to stand before kings and queens. It earns you respect and attention. No one wants to listen to one who doesn’t know his or her worth. How can you convince people when you’re unable to convince yourself? You wonder why I call insecurity a demon? Just think of how much it deprives people of a lot of things, especially joy. That should answer your question.

What insecurity are you dealing with right now and how has it affected you? Are you like me who has dealt with insecurities and is still growing? How did you deal with yours?

PS: Read my previous update on Fighting My Demons .

FIGHTING MY DEMONS

As a little girl, I always just wanted to be a boy because I thought being a boy was cool and I thought most girls and their play were just dumb and weren’t competitve. I loved competing with boys, jumping over chairs and on tables, playing police and thief, shooting imaginary guns in the air and at each other, drawing comics, super heroes and cartoon characters, watching and later pretending to be Superman or Spiderman or Green Lantern or Ice man and the rest of the super heroes. I didn’t care about having pretty hair and wearing dresses. I preferred to have my hair cut into a short afro, I preferred to wear clothings like trousers, really short shorts, track pants and shoes like converse, toms, e.t.c . I owned very few dresses and skirts, I owned pretty shoes too but I always preferred my “canvas”. I only cared for long hair adorned with beads when I saw some of my girlfriends looking really cute and dolly and getting attention from boys( my gees) . Not like I didn’t get attention too, I got a lot but it just didn’t feel right cos in my head, I was a boy. Why would a boy be liking a boy, ewwww, gross! You’re probably picturing little me as a lean boyish looking girl with a bounce to her steps. I was very far from that description. I must confess I tried bouncing and dressing like a boy a couple of times but never looked like one cos I was a chubby, ball like little girl with cheeks like egg rolls , I could pass for a live size doughnut. I wonder how ridiculous I must have looked those times I tried the bounce steps, probably looked like a bouncing ball. I forgot to mention doughnut was my nick name, they called me agric too. Note, I wasn’t a fat kid, just a cute and chubby one. My desire for adorned hair never lasted, after few months of trying different styles I’d decide I wanted my hair chopped off, fortunately for me, I had rapid hair growth, so I could afford to switch as I liked.

Puberty hit me really early and hard. Let’s do a flashback to pre-puberty, I was an outspoken, annoyingly inquisitive, over confident, daring and extremely far from shy girl. I was what you’d sometimes call a busy body, a reserved one. Forward to the puberty era, my body began to change, at age eight, I started to feel like I had little stones fixed to my chest. I noticed after a minor accident of two humans colliding, one of the humans happened to be me and the other happened to be one of my boyfriends. This accident happened during one of our rough games, the pain I felt on my chest was really sharp and unusual. I didn’t think it was anything serious and so continued with life. With time, the stones that were attached to my chest without my permission began to become noticeable, only to the observant. One sad fateful day, the news of me gradually becoming a woman was broken to me, I felt like God had done me evil and wasn’t fair, I was supposed to be his favourite girl (I used to think I was loved more than his other creatures, his number one after Jesus ). Why would he make me an old woman before I could be a child, why was I to be different from my friends? I felt like an alien in my own body, if I could run from me, I would have. That was a turning point in my life and my confidence dropped a notch lower.

I adapted to the little change, got a bit more conscious around my peers. By the time I clocked ten, I had already stretched out, I wasn’t looking all doughnuty again, I still had my signature cheeks though. My chest stones had grown bigger and felt less like stones. My legs, I was obsessed with though I didn’t like my feet, they were too big for my size but my long fingers and palm gave me and my mother hope that I was going to turn out tall. So much for having hopes, I didn’t turn out short, I only became compact. I became comfortable in my newly acquired body, I liked how I earned respect from my some of my agemates and older friends cos they thought I was really older. That was the genesis of my big sis/mummy attitude. I started to settle disputes and give advice, if only they knew.

Unfortunately for me, the prefect in charge of upgrading our different life stages wasn’t happy with my comfort and regained confidence. So she, yes, had to be a she, only a she can be that mean to another she. She decided to send some creatures to possess my body. I woke up to see really big immobile earthworms on most parts of my body, I freaked out, screamed and started to cry. “What happened to my fresh skin, who did I offend in school yesterday ? I must have offended a witch without knowing”, I thought. How could that even happen when I had God? I thought again, cancelling the thoughts of it being the handwork of witches, I was too strong for any witch to mess with, that was me seeing myself as God’s favourite again. I started to think it was the result of consuming noodles or spaghetti. These ugly things were on my thighs, legs and some parts I shouldn’t desecrate your eyes and mind with. I hoped and prayed for these creatures to leave me but they were adamant on staying, my beautiful and flawless skin was the perfect habitat for them. I gave up trying to make them homeless hoping that some day, they’d get tired and leave.

The presence of these aliens which I later learnt are called stretch marks (I prefer tiger stripes) was the beginning of the end of wearing short skirts and shorts. I became a nun overnight, I started to get attracted to long dresses, skirts and trousers only. I mourned my loss whenever I saw girls my age showing off beautiful legs and yearned to have mine back. I was already in JSS1 when I had this misfortune . At eleven, I looked fifteen. One would think I was mistakenly admitted into a class of little children in stead of the adult school. I didn’t let these things bother me, I was really smart and that was all that mattered. I earned the respect of my mates and teachers, that distracted them from thinking I was too old for the class. I wasn’t intimidated by looks cos most of my mates were still plain Janes and were “kids”. I was content wearing my almost calf length skirt, so far my stripes were hidden, I was very confident. If I didn’t have those, I definitely would have had a mid-knee length school skirt.

My confidence started to crumble again in Jss3, when my derriere was getting me unneccessary attention. I’d always had that, but for some reasons, I started getting very conscious about it. My steps became affected cos I didn’t want it to shake too much, there were times I had to tie a cardigan to my waist just so no one will comment on my “water bum bum”. I thought secret of me housing some worm like aliens on my body was going to stay secret till I finished secondary school. As if the torture of having to walk very carefully and stiffly wasn’t enough, my PHE teacher had to make sports compulsory for everyone.You know what that meins, I had to put on shorts! Oh Lawd, how I was I going to survive? There was no escape plan. Unfortunately for me, I was one of her favourites and she ensured I took part actively, though I ended up being good at only matching (match past) after trying many sports. I was always very conscious during sports and tried to move around less but that wasn’t possible. You’re probably wondering how I managed now. Well, this was what I did, I wore my shorts on long black tights and sagged on it. I tucked out my shirt and tied my cardigan on my waist, just so my sagging won’t be very noticeable . This became a routine, I did it every sports period till I graduated. It didn’t totally hide my secret but it was protected to an extent. Remember, this was in JSS3, most girls were already developing and were getting shapely, this was a door to another misfortune …To be continued.