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About Friendship

“Friends that I’ve collected, i hope I am what you expected” KRS-ONE 

I’d like to think I’m a really good girlfriend. All my exes don’t read my blog (at least I’m hoping they don’t) so you only really have my word for it lol. But I’m the fun, supportive partner, the one who sends you stupid memes in the middle of the day and who’ll repost and tag AND comment on all your Facebook promo.

Yes I would like my cookie, DM for the address :p

I’m so used to putting in all this effort for partners that majority of my relationships have been pretty good (until they weren’t, but you know) , so I was always baffled as to why I had such a good track record as a girlfriend, but not as a friend. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not like Regina George or something up in these streets, but other than my family  and like 2 people that I’ve known from the get-go, I was always complaining about something or another in my friendships that was just not working, or some fundamental way that I had been let down. I was tired of doing all these extra amazing friend things for people and not getting the same back, without having to ask for it. And therein lay my problem: first of all, I was a self-centered asshole, and secondly, I was a really self-centered asshole.

In my relationships, I was doing all these things unconditionally. I would support unconditionally, sure I would love for it back, but I didn’t do it because  I would get it back, I did it because I wanted to. I would communicate what I was thinking and feeling, and be genuine about the problems I had and how we could work at them . I would tell him when and how I needed his support and be understanding when he fell short of my expectations. I was empathetic, put in effort and just loved. And for some reason, even though my friends were more important, significant and longer lasting than my partners, I never did the same for them.

That’s not to say that in order to be a good friend you need to just give without ever receiving, it’s that you should give anyway, if you want to, at the risk of not receiving and be okay with that. All the events  I invited my friends to, it was more that I wanted to go and wanted someone to go with. All the movies and dinner dates were to places I wanted to go see and experience. My friendship came with statutes and clauses, never happy unless I got my own way and never compromising to theirs.

So. I’m not a shit friend, I promise. I’m just not the best. And I think it’d be healthier if every time something’s wrong in a relationship, we look at what we can do within to make it better, rather than to focus on how the other person is messing up. Because it is a relationship, and just like any other relationship, it takes a lot of love, communication, selflessness and effort.

And to all my friends out there, please bookmark this page should I ever show my ass up and forget 🙂

About Graduation

At 13 years old, I decided I was going to Cardiff University to study Pharmacy. It was a ridiculously ambitious and forward plan, but I told everyone, and I do mean everyone, that I was going to graduate with a Masters by 22 and that I was going to be the greatest pharmacist ever. Also, that I was going to dance on the stage when it happened.

At 14 years old, my mother asked if I thought I could do it. She knew I was smart enough definitely, but I had a condition. I was depressed already and getting worse, and fainting more and more every week, and moving to another country all by myself with no one there to help me get to hospital or home or to a counselor? That scared the living shit out of her. But I was hard headed, and told her no, I will go, I will graduate and I will dance on the stage.

At 15 I tried to kill myself. I saw no future end to my pain and suffering, was sure I was one faint away from blowing a blood vessel and dying and just didn’t want to bother with anything anymore. The teachers told my mother that if I couldn’t handle IGCSEs without crying, how was I going to get through Pharmacy? They told her I was weak. They told her she was silly for allowing me to move schools to do the International Baccalaureate, which would definitely make my issues worse. She asked me again if I was sure, and I said yes. I will go, I will graduate and I will dance on the stage.

At 21, I was in my third year in Cardiff. We were a third way through the plan, I had gotten into Cardiff, I just had to graduate and dance on the stage. I had failed twice, the first times ever in my life, lost two people who had made my life a lot more bearable, lost my faith in love and marriage and been rejected from every job offer I applied to. This was the first an only time I asked myself if I was sure about this. I looked at myself in the mirror, broken, despaired and alone, and asked myself if this was really what I wanted. If I was sure that we could do it. If I was sure that I could make it. And 13 year old me, and 15 year old me and even 8 year old me, who didn’t know the plan, but was still as hard headed as the others, said yes we can. We have come, and we will graduate and we will dance on the stage.

 

Now I am 22. I have a Masters in Pharmacy. A motherfucking Masters in Pharmacy. Today I graduated and I got on the stage and I dabbed. 13 year old me got on stage and dabbed. 15 year old me got on stage and dabbed. 21 year old me got on stage and dabbed.

To be honest, there’s no real moral to this post. It’s just a yay me post. I’ve never had a yay me post on here, it’s usually learn this and learn that and do better. But today, today deserves a yay me post.

 

So. Yay me 🙂 🙂

About Setbacks

I’ve had an amazing couple of days. I found out I passed my degree, that all my friends had passed, amazingly as well, and that my family was in a really good place. So Tuesday I went out, with a group of amazing people and had hours upon hours of laughter and love, feeling joy and warmth that I haven’t felt before. So today morning I woke up, still high on everything and ready to have a productive-ish day. And smack, in the middle of my day, I passed out (I have non-epileptic disorder btw. Surpriiiiiiise :p). As I lay on the floor, waking up and trying to get myself off of the floor, I felt so disheartened. There had been no reason for me to pass out today, I had slept, my hormones were in check, I wasn’t stressed at all. It was like I was having this amazing party and KPLC cut the lights, tore open the roof and had a group of rugby fans take a massive dump in the middle of my room. That feeling made me just want to lay there, and cry in disappointment. Nothing had changed, none of these great things had made my situation any different, it was just as sucky as before. No, correction, I was just as sucky as before.

So I did what I usually do. I cancelled all my plans, because I didn’t want to pass out again on a dance studio floor. I walked to Tesco and bought all the fudge and all the marshmallows I could, to try and drown myself in fluffy, sugary processed mess. And then I slept, for hours, allowing myself the peace of not thinking or worrying or reflecting on how little I actually had control over. Waking up now, I’m tired. Really really tired of this feeling. The one for three steps forward and seven steps back. The feeling of having a Masters, but still being the girl who passes  out who has a Masters. The feeling of trying so so hard to move forward, but still being in the same place. One episode, lasting only fifteen minutes, had stripped me of all the confidence and motivation that my achievements had given me. And for the first time in a long time, I’m tired of letting that happen.

I’m not very good at failure, as you remember. Setbacks are even worse to deal with, because it’s not like it stops you from achieving something, it just makes it a helluva lot harder. But if you want to achieve your dreams and truly find your place in the light, you have to steel yourself against it. You have to cloak yourself in the armor of who you are and what you can do and, most importantly, that this setback, this disability, whatever it is in your life, does not define you. You have to find a way to pick yourself up off the floor, dust yourself off and continue on as if it didn’t faze you at all. It’s difficult, as fuck, but that’s what you have to do. Otherwise you’ll be stuck on the floor, full of fluff and fudge and anger, not at the world but at yourself, because to be honest, that’s the only person keeping you there.

Or at least, that’s what I’ve been told :p. How about I try it out, and let you guys know how it goes 🙂

About Attention

A friend of mine was reading through my blog (love you btw) and caught feelings about my post on the friend zone. This guy decided screw the time zone, I’m going to call her up and give her a piece of my mind. His story was that he had been friends with this girl and done all he thought he needed to make sure that she was aware of how he felt. He was attentive, they talked for hours on the phone, even went as far as to buy her mother a birthday gift (never bought my mama one, but hey. douche.) And all this time the girl just kept avoiding it whenever he brought it up. She never really told him to stop or withdrew from what was obviously extra attention, but she never stepped up and claimed him either. She kept him in that awkward limbo of giving her his all, but never receiving the same back.

As our debate continued, he then went, “But what about Tom*”. I went silent. Because my entire argument had been that his situation had been isolated, but this guy goes and throws the fact that I’ve done this shit before smack dub in my face. Here’s the thing: I knew Tom liked me, but I liked having him around. He was sweet and genuine and just such a support system, that I didn’t want to tell him I wasn’t interested because he’d obviously leave. I was addicted to the worship, the adoration without having to really give the same back. I was effectively stringing him along because I liked his attention, and that’s very very messed up.

It’s crazy how when you see a particular behavior in one relationship, you begin to notice it in others. The half-assed friendships I maintained because I liked how they treated me, not because we had an actual connection. The situations I had been where I was doing things out of obligation, when I was really in it for vanity: either I liked how I looked with you, or liked the association that I got by being your friend and that’s just so many levels of fuckery that I had to watch a few Soul Sunday episodes until I felt a little better. I’m not using it as an excuse, but our generation’s focus on how things look and how they’re supposed to be sometimes causes us to forget to be genuine and honest, not only with other people but with ourselves. As women, having male friends or male suitors is perceived as such an attractive quality that we sometimes forget that these are actual people with actual feelings that we’re messing around with.

And it’s the same with all our other relationships: the squad photos with people you speak to once a week and then it’s only to meet up to take another squad photo. The lies you tell to excuse the fact that you really didn’t want to go out with them but you don’t want to be honest because it’ll make you look bad. We’re just so self-absorbed, and obsessed with all the attention we get from certain things, that we don’t really pause to think if it’s actually worth it? If it’s actually genuine? If it’s actually right?

I dunno. I guess it depends on you. But I don’t ever want anyone to feel like that. So I’m just gonna go watch some Iyanla Vanzant videos and fix my life 🙂

 

*Name has been changed because this world is small af and the streets talk :p

About Expectations

 

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, can’t put the blame on you. Fool me three times, fuck the peace signs, load the chopper and let it rain on you”  Jeremiah Cole

Calm down. We don’t get to shoot everybody that let us down. Apparently it’s illegal or something :p. I was ranting the other day to my mother (g.o.a.t, joss sayin’) about how, once again, I had set myself up for disappointment. My mother, bless her, sat there and uncharacteristically, patiently listened to the entire self-deprecating sermon and at the end, when I was blue from ranting, she calmly said “Isn’t this the same person who let you down last year?”. Which of course, me being female, resulted in a whooole other rant, which again, she listened to and again, calmly asked, “But then, my daughter. Don’t you know better?”

Trust parents to know exactly how to shut you the fuck up. This entire short, but chock-full of disappointment life I have had, I’ve always blamed the people in my life for constantly letting me down. Occasionally, my big ass ego and I would discuss how we just wish everyone was as magnanimous and awesome and just generally saintly like us. Lol. This whole time, I’ve just been stupid, and allowing a situation to re-occur in my life over and over again. Effectively, I’ve been setting my face up to get smacked on the daily and then crying about it when it starts to smart. See, people only let you down for two reasons. 1. They don’t have the capacity or the knowledge required to fulfill your expectations. or 2. The don’t care enough about you or your relationship to bother to fulfill your expectations. So either you’re not letting them know what you need from them, ooooorrr they just don’t give a fuck.

Yup, just let that sink in for a second.

The great thing about this though, is that you know. Deep down, bottom of your heart, you know who’s going to turn up for your birthday. You know who’s not going to leave you hanging in a club. You know who’s going to reply your texts, or check up on you, or swing by when they’re around your sides. You know who actually deep down cares, because as much as we fool ourselves, we’re not as good as we think at fooling other people. And when people show you who they really are and how they really feel? Believe them, the first time.

And that doesn’t mean that you only talk to your ride or die homies, or that you cut everyone else off, it just means that you know. So that when they don’t reply, it doesn’t smack you in the face. When you run into them in town and you haven’t spoken to them in a minute because YOU haven’t chased them up, it doesn’t smart. When it’s your birthday and they call last minute with some bullshit excuse, you don’t even care because you’ve got the people you expected to be there sitting by your side. It’s not about eliminating the people from your life, it’s about managing your expectations about them. Because some people can’t, or won’t give you what you need in relationships. And that’s okay, because you never expected it from them anyway.

Expectations and standards are great and necessary in life, but from the right people. And maybe if you’re constantly getting let down by people, maybe you should never have put them up there in the first place 🙂

 

 

About Rape

Lose 15 minutes of your life and watch the video above before reading. 

My blood is boiling. Literally on fire. It is the early as fuck and I am ready to fuck up my credit card and pay for Iyanla to bless this woman to her senses. I am dialing The Breakfast Club to give this “boombastical” lady Donkey of the motherflipping year. Usually, these levels of idiocy are limited to faceless egg trolls on twitter, but today, on the 12th of April, this year of our Lord 2016, Ms ZaraBeaute decided to dispel all doubt that there is indeed nothing underneath her weave.

I was completely with her about the double standards for male rape victims. There is an alarming difference with how many male victims speak out and how many convictions there actually are  compared to women, and something needs be done about it. But then, she continued speaking and I kept praying that at some point she would stop,  continue reading the Wikipedia page and educate herself about the topic. MEN ARE NOT ANIMALS. Her analogy of a dog and meat is not only disturbing, but astoundingly juvenile. Give me one culture, just one culture that does not advocate for male control. Even religions like Islam, which may have questionable verses pertaining to rape, openly advocate against it. For her to claim that men need to be taught control is not only ridiculous but insulting to men. My brother, my friends and my co-workers all have self-control; majority of the male population has self-control. The issue is not one that pertains to ALL men, but to SOME and to think otherwise is purely misandric.

She then goes on to lose all the marbles in her head, and proclaim that if you go to the wrong place at the wrong time, you must have been asking to be raped. How Sway, How. How does one ask to be raped? How does one know where exactly all the rapists hang out? Do they have a google hang out? Rapists Tinder? Do they snapchat their parties so I can aim to go there?  Idiot. And then she baffles me, because she suddenly seems to maybe know something about the topic. That rape is a complex issue stemming from a myriad of problems that can not be solved by females deciding to don bootcut trousers. But then, her lips keep flapping and my hand leaves a dent in my fivehead. Men are allowed to be aroused by our booty shorts. They are allowed to get excited by our symmetrical eyebrows and glittering cleavage. This does not, and never will give them the right to our bodies. And no sane, warm-blooded, having-more-sense-than-her male would want sex with a violent, aggressive and hostile woman. They value their junk way too much.

“Bodily harm other than rape”. Give me a second to pray for this child, I can’t take it anymore.

She then uses an episode of Law and Order to introduce her latest absurdities, that there is a “gray line” with rape in relationships. There is difficulty in proving it in a court of law, yes. BUT THERE IS NO GRAY MOTHERFUCKING LINE. CDC reports show that over 40% of perpetrators of male rape were intimate partners, and similar figures for females. For you to completely disregard people’s experiences because it “doesn’t make sense to you” doesn’t make you a humanist my darling, it makes you a terribly ignorant and close minded person. If you don’t understand something hun, have another “vanity moment” AND. GOOGLE. THAT. SHIT. The issue is not about “not wanting” to have sex. IT’S ABOUT SAYING NO TO HAVING SEX. The issue is consent. If I half-assed say yes to my husband, that’s fine. If I say no to my husband repeatedly and he holds my hands down, covers my mouth and continually jams himself inside of me? C’mon, say it with me now. IT’S RAPE. No ifs, buts or maybes about it. And sure as hell no gray lines, period, point, blank and motherfucking centre.

You know what? I get it, she’s ill informed. Here’s some information on consent , so that we’re all not as ignorant as she is when we leave our houses today morning:

 

About Cheating…

Unless you’ve been under a rock, or don’t have twitter because you’ve been under a rock, you’ll have witnessed the shitstorm that was Kehlani cheating on Kyrie Irving with Party Next Door (for all my 80s and 90s babies, google is your friend :p). The one thing I kept seeing pop up were the various excuses that women made for Kehlani cheating on a man who fit the “faithful, eligible, good black man” criteria. It looked as if there were different rules for women cheating than there were for men, something that the males of twitter jumped on like a dogs on a bone. Is there really a difference when a man cheats as compared to a female? I don’t think so, the reasons in most cases are the same, and just because you have reasons for what you do, doesn’t make you any less of an asshole.

I think the why women understand female cheating more is because they almost always think it’s emotional, using the fave excuse: “She was in a bad place”, “She probably didn’t feel loved in the relationship”. And it makes her actions understandable, but not excusable. It’s also never used to excuse male cheating, even though majority of cheating begins at an emotional or mental state. Also, just because you’re depressed or going through a hard time, doesn’t mean you go slip and fall on another guys junk. It may impair your judgement, but it’s still a decision that you’ve made, with consequences. And the question always is, why did you decide to put yourself in that situation anyway? Cheating requires opportunity, and sure enough, sometimes opportunity just presents itself, but most times you have to make yourself available for it. If someone grabs and kisses you, what were you doing backing that ass up in his face anyway? Cheating doesn’t just fall into your lap, you allow it to happen.

Or, you go looking for it, if you’re an absolute dickhead with no morals whatsoever and who wasn’t whooped enough as a child. And it’s possible, for both men and women, to be dickheads. Not all female cheating is emotional, sometimes they just see someone they want, or want again, and go for, not thinking at all about the other person in the relationship. Not all women are victims, or incapable of having sex emotions, or misunderstood in their relationships. Just like not all men are assholes who take women for granted and feel the need to spread their  seed into everything that has a hole (dear God, that was graphic, sorry).

The point is: Cheating sucks ass. Having been on all three sides of the messed up triangle it is never excusable, regardless of gender, why it’s done, and who it’s done with. There is no explanation that makes it okay to disregard your commitment, the other’s person feelings and your relationship. And we shouldn’t make excuses for anyone.

Also, don’t be a dickhead. Don’t cheat 🙂