We come from homes where we barely saw our parents cry even in the face of dire hardship. Or if we did, they would excuse and downplay the teary sparkles in their eyes. Our parents practically modelled for us to never vocalise our pain. It is from our parents that we were shown how to gather ourselves as quickly as we can and portray our strength to the world because apparently, nobody should ever see you “weak” and vulnerable. So, we too grew up to be adults who feel so much and yet…
Yesterday afternoon, I found myself just thinking about my online interactions and how I’ve become silent on the things that have always mattered most to me, particularly around sexism and patriarchy. I asked myself what happened. Almost instantly my inner voice retorted back and said, “We don’t speak anymore because we got tired of having men and patriarchy gaslight us whenever we spoke up about the ways they hurt us”.
I always felt more peace when I was hurting or playing out unhappy scripts in the story of my life because that’s the only thing that has ever made sense. Pain seemed like the most consistent thing in my life. And anything that rocked up in my life that seemed to contradict that narrative? I became greatly anxious and restless because happiness was a very threatening thing in my world because of the unfamiliarity of it. So, on the arrival of happiness, I always made countdowns to when it would leave.
…we miss out on experiencing all the love there is to experience in this world because it does not come in our most ideal packaging. We are constantly putting a magnifying glass on the love we lack rather than the one we are already blessed with. And then wonder why our lives feel so empty. We don’t get to know the full spectrum of love and romance because we draw lines as to where and how it can be encountered. I mean, all the ways that I have always desired for my life partner to love me? Are the very same ways that my friends have loved and shown up for me.
I did not know how important school was to me until I found myself cooped up in bed, bitterly crying at the realization that my dream of one day becoming a practising Psychologist would not materialize as soon as I had planned and hoped. My heart sank at the possibility of my academic dreams being driven further away from me, again. Does this mean I will have another incomplete degree to my name, as detailed in my post…
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