Letting go is never easy, especially when you make the choice yourself….but some relationships are just not worth the headache. Some Friendships are really terrible for your well-being but you hold on anyway Using the excuse that nobody is perfect. I agree. nobody is perfect but I don’t have to cringe anytime my phone rings and it’s ‘my friend’ calling. I don’t have to hide things because even though you’re my friend, I really don’t trust you. What is the point?
There are some friends that are so nice when it’s just you two but as soon as a third person walks in, they start putting you down and making you feel small. Please for your sake cut off that person from your life.
There are friends that don’t care about anybody but themselves. They don’t take time to know you. This is why you can be friends for years and they can’t tell when you are angry or sad or what it takes to get you angry or sad. To them you are just a person they call a friend so that when they talk about themselves they can say oh yeah, I have friends. Stay away.
There are those that I call snakes. They never get angry with you or tell you when you’ve done something wrong but as soon as you step out the door everybody from your mother to the mail carrier thinks you are such a terrible person. when you get back, it’s all smiles and sunshine and rainbows……the ones that manage to turn everybody against you while smiling to your face. Apologize for whatever you did and run away.
The relationships where you are constantly abused physically. Emotionally,verbally. Please Find strength and run away. People who abuse you will run you down till you feel worthless and you won’t believe anything else. Please. Run very far away from such partners/ relationships.
There are the ones that just take and take and take and take and take and take till you have nothing left and then they take your nothing.
There are the ones that are in constant competition with you. They want everything you have even the people in your life. They will step all over you to get to where they think you are going. Just end it.
Sometimes,to give them the benefit of doubt, you have to ask. Sit them down and tell them how you feel. A true friend will genuinely make an effort to correct their mistakes if they truly value the relationship they will try to meet you half way at the very least. But if not…..why bother? It’s never an easy thing to do but if you love yourself and you want peace of mind you have to stay away from negativity…..if you are not happy, it’s not worth it.
One of the mails I received. A few things have been tweaked to protect the lady’s Identity but here it is:
I have to just keep on living….I don’t know what else to do. I have considered suicide to just end it all but I’m not brave enough. I have struggled with this guilt since I was like six. I had this uncle who came some weekends from Halifax and he would bring us lots of candy and sometimes toys. My parents trusted him. What they didn’t know was that he would take me to his room and abuse me sexually. He never actually did ‘it’. He would just touch me for a while and that was it. I never told anybody because…..because I enjoyed it. I felt..wanted. because I enjoyed it I felt so guilty. I felt like God didn’t love me anymore even after I gave my life to him a million times over. I was a kid I just wanted people to like me especially God. So any time they did the altar thing, I would rush out. Almost every Sunday. This continued for years till we had to move to Canada because poppa got a job there. By this time I had become so quiet and shy and withdrawn everybody thought that was just how I was. But I remember being so…alive. My parents had had issues before we moved and I know she didn’t mean to but my mum neglected me a bit. I would go to school with dirty clothes, my hair so dirty and old you could see the mould on it. I knew this because I always wanted my uniform to be as shiny and the other girls…I started ironing my clothes myself and doing everything myself just to feel like a pretty shiny student. My grades didn’t suffer much though because I somehow had a very good memory especially in science class. It must have been that right because I did my homework myself sometimes copying my friends answers…and through all this my mum would blame me for being so dirty when she had time to bathe me. like what did she expect I was a kid bathing myself unsupervised of course I’m not always going to wash behind my ears properly. She would scrub me till it hurt and I would start crying…I remember I used to have some brown in my underpants and she would call me and scream that why are they brown? I guess she didn’t really know how to handle it. The guilt. I kept on wondering why I had that kind of discharge and why I wasn’t like all the other normal kids and why my shoulders were too broad and why my legs where not so straight. I was 9 -10 years old by this time and I already felt so ugly. Then I started wanting boys to want me. I thought If somebody could just want me, I will be fine. The person won’t regret it because I would give them my everything and more. All this while,through high school, I was known as a good girl because I never partied, did drugs or had sex. It’s not like I didn’t want to do all those things but I had read a lot of books by then to know the importance of waiting. I used to read a lot of inappropriate books back then….nobody cared what I read but I loved to read. I would pick up newspapers, dirty magazines anything and just read. My dad gave me my first real book but he was not around enough for that to occur often. I would never forget that book. I never quite understood it but I felt like my dad expected me to read so I did and I never stopped reading after that. That’s a good thing I suppose. Anyway I got into college trailing my past behind me and just managing to stay that quiet good girl…I almost got raped one time. I followed a guy I had just met back to his apartment and he locked the doors and said “I paid for your groceries didn’t I?” I screamed and struggled till his neighbor came and banged on the door. He kept on banging till he opened the door. He told his neighbour he was just teaching me a lesson because I tried to steal his money. He ordered me to clean the mess I created and I started cleaning and his neighbour asked me to leave that he would do it. I will never forget that guy. I never saw him again but I still pray for him sometimes when I remember and I hope he has all his hearts desires. I couldn’t go to the police because that guy threatened me and told me he knew guys down at the station. I was too scared to think I just ran home. I met a friend on the way and he kept asking me why I looked so dirty and where I was coming from then he said “oooooo avery you’ve been naughty huh?” with a twinkle in his eye. I got home and met my friends and gave them one bullshit story about how I tripped and fell into a ditch. I cried myself to sleep that night. I stopped going to class because I had bruises everywhere and I was just tired. Somehow I started living again. I even fell in love one time and it was beautiful. ‘He was the wrong one but he loved me right’. I felt wanted again. I felt good about myself. I felt beautiful and I felt intelligent. He was perfect. But not every perfect is your perfect. I’m glad I met him. He helped me heal. He helped me grow. He helped me to be truly happy. Then my parents died. My mum had been battling cancer for some years and I guess her death broke my dad because he died a few months later. That period of my life was shit. I had long since broken up with my boyfriend and my friends were nice enough to call me but I was all alone for the most part…I couldn’t really cry till a few months after. I was in a cab and it just came rushing at me. I cried the whole way like really cried. And I didn’t know but the cab driver kept driving round my block till I finally calmed down then he took me home and wouldn’t take any money. Then he said “don’t worry madam,it will get better. Pain only gets worse if you try to resist. It will get better after a while ” then he left. And he was right…the pain is now a dull ache….i feel like I’ve lost my bearings but I just have to keep going, keep living. I believe I will be fine one day…that one day will come as long as I keep breathing. I just decided to write to you because ut feels good talking to a complete stranger you might never see in this life. You can put this up to give women like me hope. Thank you.
“Who sat and watched my infant head when sleeping on my cradle bed and tears of sweet affection shed,My mother”
We all love that poem. It perfectly describes a mothers love for her children.. what it does not tell us is that good mothers are not fun people. At least not all the time. The process of ‘sitting and watching ‘ our big heads is not an easy one because as kids it’s like our default button is set on self-destruction. It takes the constant, painful sweet devotion of mothers to reset our brains and set us straight. I am not a mother yet so I do not fully understand the sacrifices and pressure and difficulty that goes into raising a child but I have a little idea and as little as it is, it’s amazing. It’s so amazing.
Yes I Know God planned you and sent you to your mummy’s womb because he has a purpose for you and all but what if your mummy decided, ” look. I cannot. I just can’t. I don’t need all the stretch marks,saggy boobs,saggy and expanded hooha,and all the other changes she had to go through or sacrifices she had to make.
you will never know how it feels when your child is seriously ill and you just watch helplessly because there is nothing you can do. unless you have a child and you’ve gone through that. I remember when my niece was seven months or so and she fell ill. she stopped eating,stopped playing, she became so weak..on the morning before my sister took her to the hospital, she looked terrible. she couldn’t even cry. she looked like she was going to die. we were both thinking it, my sister and I, but none of us could say it out loud. we got on our knees and prayed and cried for her.I was so scared but I know it was nothing compared to how my sister was feeling. Thank God for healing. Now imagine mothers with autistic kids, kids with cancer and other serious illnesses. the helplessness is terrifying.
Single Mothers. see its God that is behind single mothers because i don’t know how one person can carry the burden of raising a child alone. Then mothers that raise five, six or more on their own, go on to have great careers and all the children doing well… if I get pregnant today…man.
Most of us come from homes where our parents were always having constant issues but your mother chose to stay because of you. she felt, if she moved out the man would get married to another woman who will give birth to her own kids or who already has her own kids and you guys would not get the best treatment from her or your father. criticize all you want but she felt staying was the best decision to make for you. I know most people would argue and say its better for the parents to separate instead of putting the kids through all that emotional hell but when it comes to making decisions, you make them putting your kids first and any decision made, whether good or bad was made out of love so shut up.
That party she doesn’t want you to go to, that friend she doesn’t like…..she is right. Now we are older, we know. If i didn’t listen to my mother or if I wasn’t scared of what she would do to me if i did certain things, i know how I would have turned out. I would have turned out exactly like that my friend she didn’t like. of course they are not always right but most times they are. My mum was not too strict with me. she let me go out, she made sure she knew who my friends were….. she made sure i knew my limit.
Prayers. most of us don’t even pray anymore. like serious 5-10 minutes every morning with God kinda prayer. Our mothers are the behind the scenes, talking to God for us, bringing our silly asses before God. this is another act of selflessness. why would i pray for somebody that doesn’t even want to acknowledge the fact that there are spiritual battles going on for his sake?
I could go on and on and on and on. my God,the love. the undying, constant, unconditional love. Obama has power,world leaders have power, mothers? they are power. They rock. we love you guys.
P.S this post is not so named because of the movie but that’s what my little niece says when she is looking for her mum. ” where is the mummy?” lol.
There are some people who make you want to spend all day staring inside their heads, wondering, “how the hell do they do that?!”. @thisconnectd is one of such people and here is what she has to say on strength….
“We tell people they are “strong” when we are uncomfortable with their pain and would prefer that they shut up and not bother us with it. To say “but you are strong” is telling someone “i don’t think you should feel that way” and it’s not a compliment. I don’t think that strength means being invulnerable, or pretending that you are. The belief that silence and stoicism are inherently good qualities is how you end up dressed up like a bat punching criminal in an alley.its not a good road to emotional health…be sad. be angry. let your heart break- in the diner, on someones futon,in the park, on the way to the zoo, at brunch,over drinks, in the therapists office, on the bus-wherever it breaks, let it break all the way open, let it run out and down and spread out in a soggy puddle at your feet…say “I’m sorry I can’t listen to you today, my heart is broken, will you sit with me a while and I’ll tell you about it?” say, ” I can’t take care of you today, but you can take care of me and maybe tomorrow i will take care of you…”
NB: Follow her on twitter for more doses of awesomeness…xx
I remember back in 2011, I came back from school seriously ill so my mum and dad took me to the hospital and of course they had to do a blood test. I hate needles no matter how old I get I won’t stop freaking out despite disgusted looks from the nurses. (Wicked Nigerian nurses). Do you know what my dad did? He started talking to me about….I can’t even remember. I just know I turned to look at him thinking…”yeah..perfect tim…OUCH!!. Only, it didn’t hurt as much because I was distracted.
I remember when I was about eleven..My dad came home from Kano and as usual, I ran to go and jump all over him. That was the first time I thought…”Aren’t I getting too big for this?” Yeah. Puberty. Or whatever.
He worked his ass off so we would have everything. He is not perfect. He is so far from perfect. My dad is annoying. He will annoy you till you feel your blood boiling. And like all parents…trust him to somehow embarrass the socks off you in public. But he’s sweet…and too attached to us. Before my sister got married, series of mini world wars had to take place before he let her go. My aunt told us a story of when the eldest was just a baby and he was crying uncontrollably and nothing seemed to pacify him. That my dad just joined in! He started crying too..it could have just been frustration but let’s not take the sweetness out of that little tale shall we?
I was eight when I saw what my dad wrote at the back of his Bible. A small prayer for me…my future and even my future husband…of course I proceeded to colour the holes in the letters with a pen but now and then…I remember that prayer and whisper Amen. The day of my call, he went all out…invited his friends from all over the country…he was so proud of me. He made that day for me.
My dad is a weird man…all the weird things he did/does…just gives you small glimpses of the bigger picture. A man with a large heart…a really scared parent, constantly thinking of his kids. there are just too many sweet moments… He is my dad. And he is the best. I love you so so much.
Happy 60th Dad.
That was what I wrote for my dad on his birthday 25th September 2013. But I didn’t post it because I thought it was too rough. I finished my national youth service on 10th of October 2013 and he immediately started bugging me to tell him when he can come and pick me up because he had bought a bus just for this purpose. I kept delaying till I didn’t have any excuse again……..
My dad died on the 29th of october 2013. It was like a dream….he had a cardiac arrest. End of life as I know it. I didn’t even spend time with him this year because I was away in Ilorin. The burial was 15th/16th November 2013.
My heart….the pain…
I miss him so much.
This is by far the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my entire life. During the day I have to be strong. I try so hard to show that everything will be fine, that I’ll be fine but at night my tears flow. I know you never responded to weakness but daddy this is too much. I feel so numb. Daddy, I’m not ready for goodbye, I am not ready for this reality, I am not ready for this life -one without you in it. Words cannot explain how much you mean to me. a few words cannot do justice to the great man you were…the years of love and strength that my daddy gave us I never told you i saw that prayer you wrote at the back of your Bible but I’ve been running with that since.
My daddy was a fighter, the greatest, the best. what did you not do for me? you always called me baby… i felt invincible because i knew you always had my back. you were so generous to everyone around you. you never saw anyone you could help and turned away. everywhere you went, everybody you met felt your impact. I’m so proud of you daddy. I will make you proud. I love you. I love you so much.I will miss you each and everyday of my life. I hope that the real tribute to you would be the actions of our lives…that your children will be a testament to the love and kindness, strong sense of loyalty, generosity and all the wonderful things you instilled in us. sleep well daddy. I love you with all my heart.
this isn’t easy.
” Friendship is not about being inseparable. Its about being separated and nothing changes”
I was nine or ten years old when I met her. We met in church, Sunday school class…during a short break my friend Uche came over and told me about the hilarious twins in our class she just met bla bla bla….It was so easy to make new friends when we were kids wasn’t it? Anyway Ingi and her twin became my friends too and we’d sit around each other during Sunday school class…I found out Ingi loved singing…she and her twin would tease me and squeeze my “ponytail” and scream ‘polimpompom’…we’d quarrel, make up and all that childhood stuff.
Then we met in secondary school, I found out we lived so close to each other….well we’ve been friends ever since…
Ingi is really special. I moved from Port Harcourt,went to University in a different state…we missed out on like six years of each others lives. We weren’t calling constantly or sending messages or anything like that but unlike many other friends,we never grew apart either… Ingi is the only person I can honestly feel comfortable telling how I’ve screwed up recently without expecting judgmental talk in return. She tells me the truth, teases me, laughs at me, listens to my nonsense…she is the only one of my friends I talked to when I really needed a good cry….we were in church that day and I dropped the news on her laps and started crying and pretending I had something in my eye and she didn’t make me feel weird…
Ingi, I’d do anything for Ingi. She can be a bitch sometimes but she has proven herself time after time even though she may not know it. Every word of advice, every tease, every silent understanding…everything..I love her so much and I pray to God that even though I know life will get in the way, work, husbands, kids etc…I pray that through the years to come, no matter what I’d still be able to pick up my phone and call my friend to cry, gossip, laugh or just…whatever and it wouldn’t be weird at all. I love you sweetie.
P.S: you just put me up for sale for 50kobo. What’s up with that? :s