Warts and All

"Just like the truth, love hurts

its sting sometimes lasting for eternity

we find ways to accept our own flaws and faults

but find it hard to swallow the past and wrongs of our lover

love is a feeling all encompassing

the quick rush, the butterflies, the cravings but wait, that's only just the good side

it also brings jealousy, insecurity, and anger

true love is not bliss

it is a constant struggle for perfection

loving me would mean treating my flaws as yours

And embracing my past so we can seek a future

take me as I am

be my friend

be my freak

be my forever"

Mide.

Reading those words inspired me to ponder the dynamics of the relationships in my life. Someone once told me that I refuse to delegate when I work with people and that makes me a crappy leader and the the message above forced me to analyse myself a little.

My first thoughts were "well i accept everyone for who or what they are but I'm yet to find someone who would have me warts and all, that one person who would know me in all my persona's and with all my quirks. Accept all my flaws and love me anyway". Then it hit me, I have never taken that risk. I have never told anyone the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help me God. Sometimes I just evade or omit so I don't have to outrightly lie and sometimes I just do what comes naturally and manipulate the truth. I have never taken one human being completely into my confidence and told them everything; the good, the bad and the ugly. I've come close and there are people who know more about me than I ever thought possible but no one knows it all. 

I once said that if... no WHEN I die famous and stupidly wealthy, and my biography is being compiled everyone will tell my story differently and honestly I'm not sure I know the true story in totality anymore but I digress, fact is I have never been completely honest with anyone;same way I can't trust anyone enough to fully delegate responsibility, I can't trust anyone not to hurt me to risk making myself that vulnerable to them. Accordingly I have never allowed anyone to accept me, flaws and all, I usually just show them the flaws I feel, they can handle and table the rest for the other people in my life. I have no idea how this evolved, I don't remember any childhood trauma or emotional upheaval that gifted me with this crippling fear of rejection or gut wrenching sense of insecurity, this paralysing certianity that no one can possibly love me warts and all or this latent self loathing, but  I realised that, that's not exactly fair to the people I love cuz I don't give them a chance to prove me wrong.  

Now, I would like to say that from now on I won't assume that everyone around me is inherently flawed, in that, they lack the ability to be as accepting as I am, but I'd probably be lying (and I'm really trying to break that habit) cuz there are somethings I can never say to the people I love as it would kill me if I was right and it was more than they could bear or cope with so they walked away. All I know is I have to try cuz all this only 'giving up teeny tiny pieces of myself' for inspection is slowly killing me anyway and in the end, in a bid to keep yet more undesirable aspects of myself hidden, I am slowly turning into someone i don't particularly like and my self loathing manifests itself in the wierdest ways.

The Elusive Origins of the Never-ending Tale of the Boogieman!

The horror stories! We’ve all heard them and we’ve all told them.

You gain admission to a new school, or obtain employment at an organisation, luckily for you , you know one or two people already in the system or veterans of the game, so you go over to see them in search of a few tips or pointers , a heads up or advance warning on how to navigate the uncharted waters, whatever you choose to call it.

It’s like this is the opportunity they’ve been waiting for and with a very put upon kind of look, destined to prepare you for the worst, they then proceed to scare the s##t outta you (pardon my French)! They tell you tales of stress and pressure and instead of leaving relieved or reassured, you leave scared, apprehensive and practically hyperventilating.

You start school or work and discover that, yea, there is stress and pressure but it’s not more than you can handle, it won’t kill you! Then you realise that the people you went to see, the ones you spoke to, they survived this place which means that this place is survivable!

So just maybe, their stories may have been slightly exaggerated, their tales a tad tall. This place isn’t all bad. Then a few years down the road a young, eager fresher, an enthusiastic newbie walks up to you and seeks counsel. How do you proceed? You paste an overly burdened look upon your face and proceed to scare the s##t outta her too....

Dream

Sometimes I lie in bed and I dream,

And in my dreams I’m not really me

My life is just a tale in a book that I’ve read,

My mistakes are just lessons that the heroine has learned

My triumphs are just glories that the characters have earned

And all of this,

All this pain is nothing but a dream...

Nightingale at heart.

I love music and I’m not particular about the genre, I love it all; pop, rock, classical, hiphop, RnB, hiplife, highlife, naija, alternative rock you name it and there’s probably a song in that genre that I like. Sometimes the lyrics speak to me sometimes it’s the beat that makes me play it over and over. I am yet to meet anyone who shares my exact taste in music but my eclectic musical taste means that i can find music i love in practically anyone’s music collection from the die-hard rap fan to the king of soul.

Unfortunately when it comes to the making of music, i am remarkably ungifted. I sing in the shower and the water stops flowing in protest. I never learnt to play a musical instrument and my deplorable hand-eye coordination makes me reluctant to attempt to pick one up now. But there is music in my soul and until i can find a medium through which i can share said music with the world my song remains unsung.

The Service

I went to church yesterday, the first time in a very long time. I went with a hope in my heart that I would once again find the joy I used to find in the house of the Lord but as I sat there I was plagued with the very thoughts that had spawned my initial boycott of the meeting of the saints.

I saw my fellow students moved by the service, lose all inhibitions and allow the spirit of the lord to fill them. They shouted and they prayed, they danced and they sang and seemed to be genuinely experiencing something that was out of this world and there I sat feeling nothing.

The man of God climbed up to the pulpit and started to preach, as he spoke our eyes met and I thought to myself, this is the moment, now I will finally have the connection with the Lord that I seek and then the Man of God looked away without so much a a hitch in his litany to indicate that the lord had just informed him of my purpose in life.

As disappointment overwhelmed me I realised something remarkable, going to church was not about me and how the lord could use my presence as an opportunity to connect with me, rather it was supposed to be about me using it as an opportunity to connect with God, I was to seek Him not wait for Him to realise how special I was and exalt me; I was to exalt Him. I had to take the opportunity given me to be of service to Him then maybe I would finally find the connection I sought with my saviour and rediscover the joy I had in His presence as a child, finally I would not feel so lost and forsaken.

it's my birthday and i'll grow up if i want to!

how does one outgrow the most important day of one's life?

my birthday has always been a big deal at least to me. i mean i actually cried one Birthday long ago cuz my tyrant of a big sister made me wash dishes (this was a long time ago, a very long time ago, i am not averse to the notion of washing dishes on my birthday nowadays its just that i feel that there must be better ways of spending the day). this year i have been informed by quite a few of my nearest and dearest that i should outgrow the obsession i seem to have with the importance of the 25th of March to the populace in general. in a bid to do same i have taken certain measures ( or rather refrained from certain activites better suited to a child of say three or maybe four)

• i have not, managed to slip a slight reminder of my birthday into every conversation i have( ok maybe just a little but old habits die hard, and i have been doing this for 21 years, since i learned to talk)
• i didnt inform my whole class of my birthday over and over again till they felt obliged to give me gifts( i did this in class five and everyone in my class got me a gift including my teacher)
• i have not badgered and beleaguered my mother until she organised enough food to feed an army then harassed my friends and acquintances till they felt the need to spend every waking moment of that day with me
• i have not accidentally mentioned stuff i would really like to have over and over again in the week preceding my birthday so anyone who was unclear about what to get me would take the hint (just in case u are floundering about what to give me a list of suitable gifts will be provided at the end of this post, please pick according to the love u have for me not the price tag)
• i have not squeezed the promise of a cake from a least three different people so that i have more than one cake to umm ........share.
• last but in no way the least i have not had my usual recurring nightmare that everyone forgot it was my birthday

the fact that i have not participated (exceedingly) in my usual juvenile antics in the weeks directly preceding my birthday is a laudable achievement and in light of this i feel that all my nearest and dearest can best reward me by acting as they would have, if i had behaved so abominably i.e. by showering me with gifts and attention. you should all know the drill by now and all newcomers please consult your predecessors for tips on appropriate behaviour afterall i can hardly tell you myself, i'm outgrowing such behaviour.

p.s the birthday list

• car
• ipod
• blackberry phone
• external hard disk( 1000gig)
• jewellery (preferrably gold, silver, platinum but cheaper metals and costume will also be appreciated)
• perfume (musky scents are preferable to flowery scents)
• shoes (please see me in camera for shoe size as i have embarassingly big feet)
• cake (chocolate with creaming icing)
• call credit
• cash (for the unimaginative)

thank you all so much in advance. this list is not exhaustive of my wants or needs and should only be used as a guide for those who are confounded as to what to get me, so feel free to go off the list if u are inspired to get me something else.

oh and in light of my new adult behaviour

please feel free to refrain from giving me anything and i'll be in no way upset by it.

Too stressed or too blessed?

Have you ever been so exhausted that even the thought of going to sleep seemed like too much work?

Being a person who is scrupulously economical about the work I do, this seemed like an impossible occurrence until this week from hell. I would like to go into depth about how full of activity the week has been but as I already pointed out, I’M EXHAUSTED! So pardon me but I’m just going to mention the little moments this week that made all the stress surprisingly worthwhile.

Like Tuesday night when He saw me and his face lit up like the sun (huge exaggeration but that’s my poetic license, right) and I knew that though the bus ride had been excruciatingly long and I had an even longer one to look forward to at the end of the week, it was worth it to spend even an hour with him.

Or Wednesday morning as I sat in on a meeting with the Attorney General of Ghana, little ole me, and I knew that this was what I wanted to do with my life, I was on the right track and very soon my life as a fully fledged lawyer would begin.

And later that night, at dinner (which was excellent by the way) when I got confirmation from a Justice of the Supreme Court of Ghana, that I was born to be a Lawyer. He actually said he hoped to see me in his courtroom soon.

Or at salsa when I said goodnight to the students from Fordham, the reason my week had been so busy, and I realised that in less than a week I had made a friend and I was really going to miss her.

And last but not in any way the least when I got back to school and lo and behold I had been missed and it dawned on me that maybe just maybe I’m not such a pain to have around anyway.

So even as I sit here at 2am, trying to study for the two tests I have later on in the day, I’m glad that my week was so hectic cuz without the stress I may not have appreciated these little golden moments ...