The new book – INTRO page

29 March 2010, I started this blog while deep in the throws of a challenging moment in my world. Looking back at all the posts – the laughs, smiles, anger and pain – tells me that this has been one heck of a journey filled with experiences and appreciations.
29 July 2011, I stand at the brink of a new page or rather – a new book.
The prospect of a blank book that needs to be filled is both scary and exciting...
I look at the pile of books near me and I smile thinking of some of the situations that had me closing the currently opened one and starting a new one – 5 in total and I’m not even 25 yet!
“wow...”, I think when reminded of all the moments – including glasses of wine, crying marathons, fits of laughter (at the stupidity of the situation), burgers and sleep overs - it took to get me here.

I am grown!

Not so much age wise but more so experience wise. There is only so much bad dates and terrible hair days that a girl can go through and not finally get the hang of things (inbox me for tips). I have learned lessons too and I am wiser and CALMER. I fit comfortably in my shape and I openly let down the guard when around the ESSENTIALS, happy that its with them that I have found my good place.
I also finally have found my feet with new love. Gone are the days when I would have to stuff forcibly all the insecurities so I can present a SEEMINGLY polished version of me to him – holding my breath that he doesn’t see the rust and run. Now, I sit back and watch them jump into this box I have laid out. They seem to agree that they are no longer needed and bow out gracefully allowing me no choice but to be a deeply polished me – refined I said!
Now – the cover of this new book has a different look. I hope you all will approve of the new look of the blog and look ahead to posts about love, life and the girls I love.

This is: CONFESSIONS OF A GIRL ON TOP – Musings of a 24 year old!

Realizations done and appriciation grows!

There would always be a certain bad boy flair about him that made me sit up and stay interested. He would be the type to push boundaries and although he wasn’t at a level to be written off as bad-a$$ yet, he would have that slightly rude thing about him and could tell it off while remaining calm.

“its exciting” I would shout at my brain when it protested.

“live a little” I would plead with it and while it carried on to fight and resist this as much as it could, my heart and I were doing love dances all over and would so many times be left gasping for what would come next to take us on this high we had become addicted to.

This would be the one major characteristic about the guys I would date. “anything else would be a bore” I would defend.

“besides, he is not all bad...” I would continue while hiding the other incident where this particular one through risk out the window when he decided to kiss me while driving at speeds over 100 km/h one evening.

Yep, this is the type that I would be attracted to. It was the rush of not being ruled by rules that I loved most and the tendency to question them was a direction I would be heading in. “this is my true calling...” I through at my mind during another heated attempt to get me to see reason!

Until it all changed one day when finally after the hundredth time, I failed to find the strength to stand up after this type had thrown me to the floor AGAIN and didn’t even care to stop and see if I was ok.

“its exciting remember?” my mind mocked while sending out reinforcements to mop up the mess that this type had left.

For the longest time, I failed to understand this. How is it that after all that I had given this type, it never stopped to see if I was ok? Why was it that I finally hit rock bottom with no ability to dust myself off and get back on to this rollercoaster I had come to love and feed off?  I had it all planned out and yet at that very moment, I sat in a pile on the floor unable to piece it all together as to where it went wrong.

Out of pity, I assume, my brain came to sit and keep me company while I sat, lost in why’s maybe’s and other themes to my pity parties.

“allow me to explain this”, my brain started in a grown up serious tone, “there comes a time in a person’s life, when the real things in life become recognised. To some, it comes quickly and simply, yet for others, such as yourself, lessons need to be learned and realizations have to be made...”

The conversation carried on for days, only stopping to refuel. My mind seemed mature and grown. It made points that made things make sense. It allowed for questions and comforted me at times when the realizations came hard and fast yet it never judged me for the roads taken or choices made.

Many many many days later, this is the truth that my mind (through the strongest type of divine intervention, I believe) has helped me realize:

In the quest to find and define ourselves, we fall prey to what SEEMS like the type that we should become. We etch it deep in our minds and even go as far as fighting off any kind of different reasons that may threaten this. Yet, after all has been said and done, its the same things that we all strive for. We all want to be loved and taken care of. We all want security and comfort when things get bad. As exciting as it may seem to live on the edge sometimes, that it NOT the type of thing that builds futures and brings off well meaning and stable people. it keeps things good yes, great even, but if its a type that does not give in return  or is still on a quest to fulfil its own needs at whatever the cost, then maybe its not the TYPE I should be hanging out with. Having gone through this does not make me a failure. No! It instead makes me a better version of myself – an appreciative kind. It makes me real because now, I’m not caught up in some lost sense of myself but rather in a sense that has so much more to give! And when one stumbles upon ummmm not a TYPE but rather an INDIVIDUAL who sees and appreciates this – one should let go of pasts and longings, put on their big, mature and comfortable girl panties and allow for things that may come, to come. Now that to me sounds exciting!

After endless grinnings and all good and fuzzy feelings inside, I pick up my phone and type it in...

“you loving me feels amazing and yes.... I NEED you...”

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*smile*

1 year, 4 months and 29 days!

1 year, 4 months and 29 days – that is how long it took this nightmare to finally end. 1 year, 4 months and 29 days – I counted!

I sat at the meetings yesterday and I couldn’t help but feel tears burn my eyes and this need to go curl up in some corner and process all things. I finally calmly stood up and walked out to go have a private talk with the only person who understood what was happening inside of me.

“Its finally over,” I silently whispered, knowing that who that was meant for would hear me.

“it has been a long time coming,” the conversation carried on, and for the next 20 minutes all I could do was stand there in that private space and allow my heart to bubble forth all that it was trying to string up to make up proper sentences. (how grateful I am that this person I was trying to communicate with was a master at reading hearts and putting inaudible and jumbled up sentence together).

This has been a long journey. A journey filled with hard lessons, strengthened relations, many sleepless nights and desperate pleadings to anybody who would bother to take a moment and hear me. I fought and lost many battles during this time and I have watched many walk away from me when they assumed I was too much of a mess for them to handle. I have harboured bitter resentment and even managed to get myself slapped around a couple of times by my inner self when it had finally grown tired of the bundle of mess that I had become.

I let a few go too – a type of lesson that I suppose could only be taught this way. Its amazing how fast this type scatters when things start to fall apart.

I found that inner strength that people in those talk shows usually go on about. My inner strength tho came in the form of two enemies who both pulled at me in different directions and at times all I could do was listen in while they had one of their usual screaming contests. Each claimed that they knew what was best for me. There were times when the ganged up on me tho and times when they screamed at me and threatened me when they too grew tired of this bundle of mess that was Me. Cindy and Habit, I called them.

Lessons came too – hard and fast with power relations forged with a few people in my circle that I call the ESSENTIALS. This is a group of people that took my late night calls. They stayed up and listened to me rumble on and on and at times they spat words hard to hear and truths tough to swallow. I didn’t like them much then but I know they meant well. *thinking of B who made me cry one night* To Ms thing, Lady B and Ms LoydBanks herself – MUCH LOVE and APPRICIATION. Look what all of you have done – *raised wine glass and a bow of respect to each of you*

1 year, 4 months and 29 days is how long it took and its finally done.

I know where I am going. The email I sent this morning tells me so. There are no more tears for this and no more regrets here.

With the last final bow, I finally take this closed chapter and throw it in the huge barn fire that I have made for all the pain, hurt, resentment, hate and tear jerking memories. Its done. Its closed and finally burned from existence.

I take a deep breath, say a final “Thank you” to the person I have been silently speaking to and walk back into the hall to join in on the song of praise. I look back, catch his eye and wink at him while I smile and sort it all into words so I can tell him all about it later!

(You should meet him... he is amazing!)

Love is like a motorcycle ride

This is my true and honest confession: I am a self proclaimed ROMANTIC junkie who has gone as far as deciding how she would like the order of things to go so as to merit as ALLOWABLE and ACCEPTED.

And then the problem sets in:

We live in the year 2011 where regardless of how well thought out things may be, they never really do end up happening like that and if they do – exactly point for point as set out – then you may find yourself with even bigger problems.

I am a passionate mental doodler and in my mind, things should happen in this manner:

·         We would meet

·         I would eventually agree to drinks/lunch/supper

·         I would conclude that he is ok and agree to a second date

·         4 successful dates later and we would do the exclusive thing

·         2-3 successful years later and we would do the marriage thing

{Tune in a great sound track and all is well with the world}

And here I am…. Struggling to keep up with my own mental notes.

Feels a lot like riding a motorcycle for the first time (not that I have but I imagine it would be something like this): As great as the ride is going, I am stuck on making sure that my helmet is on securely and ensuring that my knee pads don’t slip of.  I have a check list that I'm trying to tick off as we pass mile stone after mile stone. On top of all of that, is the worry of where the bike is headed. The ironical part of it all is – regardless of all my inhibitions… this bike moves and it doesn’t do easy and slow. It roars to life and promises a thrill rush – helmet or not.

If there are some things that I'm learning during the bike ride, one of them would be: that the best bike rides have no planned routes. They don’t do list-tick-offs or being subjected to controlled doses. This is LOVE and it does not do rules. It over whelms and excites. It takes over you like a high tide wave and evokes a rush of weird, amazing, great and breath taking emotions all at once. Coupled with attraction it promises an even wilder experience that does not wait for you to give permission – it takes over and while it can leave you unravelled, it does promise you a thrill rush – list or not.

So being long overdue at this stage: here is a new mental doodle in tune with the times:

·         We would meet

·         Hang on tight and let whatever completely take over…

So while I sit safely behind the driver of this bike, I let my helmet fall off and let the air through my hair. The thought at that very moment (besides how great it feels to be close to him) is: I know I will love where this bike is going to stop

The joy factor

I put my head phones on and bop around to some random playlist I found and played…

“Its an amazing place to be”, I say while smiling at the reflection of myself in the mirror I was cleaning. My house is warm, my meal is cooked, I have a plan and most importantly, My Heart Is Washed…

It took some doing to get here.

I had heard it all lately. Some was not really said but more suggested by the actions shown. I heard worthless and undeserving and something along the lines of condemned hurt. A lot of times, that just left me thrown on the floor with a million feelings – disbelief being the more prominent. How possible was it that after so long, I still find me here? Has time forgotten that healing thing it was supposed to do? “Get on with it will ya” I would silently shout and wish it would wake up from its slumber and save us all.

This was a new level of tired. I was tired of the tears; I was tired of the empty pep talks I gave myself. I was so tired of all the desperate sms’s sent to the girls - which took forever to compose because I would work hard to dilute the pathetic in them by a joke or two although silently I wished the girls would pick up on it. Hell I was tired of pleading for a brake and I was very close to the point of lost hope.

And now – here I am. Refined I think.

Looking back, I have been taught tough lessons and I have had my priorities tweeked. Also, with the events of the past week, my worth has been defended and I have permanently been stamped with the stamp of approval – not by some guy or some culture made up by god-knows-who, but rather by the essentials in my world, the family I love, the girls who have been there since forever and by this guy who humbly asked for permission to call me and who says he is willing to hear me…

I woke up this morning to the coldest day this year. I still jumped out of bed tho and nearly over worked my facial muscles with this smile I can’t seem to wipe off.

 

“its an amazing place to be”

My hand bag is packed with all the essentials, my books for lesson prep are staked and with the last bite of my breakfast, I hurry down the passage with my heels clicking away with the sound of a women on a mission. If I'm not mistaken, I think I hear too a tune my shoes are playing that seems to make my feet wanna dance and skip on to work.

Hello world – I have returned!

Forget the bus that hits you, I'm stuck at the trailer bashing after that!!!

Talked to a friend last night and realised that this must be the one ultimate life lesson we get taught over and over again. That when the bus finally hits you – and it does find you, the point is not the tiny details about what make of bus it was or who the driver was and what colour seats it had. The point is when, how and what.

Let me explain:

First ask when: when will I contemplate getting up?

See, as much as at that moment it feels like planning when to get up is the least of our worries, sooner or later it has got to happen. More importantly though is the fact that only you can decide when to do it. So, while you spend the sleepless nights and bucket loads of tears while down there, keep in mind that sooner or later, you have got to get up.

Note to self: remember this when my next bus comes along.

Then ask how: How do I do this getting up thing?

Truth be told, there are just those buses that leave you so “hit” that you forget which side your feet are and where to start when wanting to lift your head. There are times when that bus just leaves us so tangled up that getting up becomes a long process that can also very easily find you right back on your butt again all too soon.

AGAIN, fact still remains that it has got to happen.

What I like though about this getting up process is that you now get to decide how straight up you want to stand this time around and while initially the feeling would be not to take it too far – in case you have to kneel and duck the next bus –but you can stand straighter then before. In fact, sometimes when the fall has been really hard, some people choose to take a different path road all together just so they can encounter new buses. And then you get the suckers who believe this path still has a bit more good times to offer – either way – you will eventually have stood up!

(Writing this question has my mind thinking of all the people around you who will seem to have the answers on how to do this *pointing a finger at myself since I tend to fall pray to this too*. But it also leads me to wonder if someone can really help you get up… *thinking* the way I see it, since this was your bus, you should be the one that will decide not only when to get up but more importantly HOW to get up.)

Then finally, we get to what: what has this bus left me with and what lessons have I learned.

It’s true that some scares from the bus bashing may never really heal. It’s true too that even if the surface scares do disappear (cue bio oil) fact is the inner pains may come to visit on rainy days and colder weather. But I would like to think that one of the things that should happen at this point will be getting to know your capabilities a bit more and knowing what could trigger the painful cringe when the wound is unintentionally touched or the weather does get colder. Remember – we are over the tears so let that not be an option.

Also, its good to get to the part where you reflect on what the bus has taught you so you can better dodge it the next time. If you know that walking on the right hand side of the road leads to on coming buses hitting you point blank, then hell – stay away from that side or even use the damn side walk next time.

All the above seems all well and wise but now I'm left with a question bigger and maybe even more lethal then the bus: WHAT HAPPENS IF THE BUS HAD A TRAILER AND THE DAMN TRAILER GOT LEFT ON TOP OF YOU CLEARLY MAKING GETTING UP IMPOSSIBLE? Am I allowed to call out now?

Ms Independent for protection

It’s the dependence we have in other people that has left so much to be desired. See, as the dependence grew, so did the terrible trend to disappoint. This, loving readers, is not something that came by chance but as a result of lost ways and confused trends.

Everybody – say “HI” to independence!

This tiny reality has been labelled as bad. It has been called terrible names and discussions have been held on why it should be killed. At yet another tired speech of the reasons why it should go, I cant help but wonder how much HE’s impact has been towards keeping it around.

(Please note that ‘HE’ does refer to a guy known to me and this comes from actual recent happenings – if you figure out who you are Mr HE, then congratulations for being an inspiration to yet another post!)

HE carries on passionately describing what independence has done wrong and how HE can fix it. (Mr Fix-it-all I silently add, while shacking my head knowing I can’t be seen).

Independence I believe, steams from the realization that no one can do it better for you then YOU. We come from a place where we women have been taught to wait for the men to bring it home. Wait for the men to give permission. Wait for the men to give us. Wait for the men to proudly afford us the kind of things that we have come to love. While this has worked really well in generations past, our generation at one point was left waiting for way too long when it finally decided to stand up and go get it themselves.

I am a practiser of independence and I can’t help but say that with pride. Careful tho – this does not mean that you should be pulling out your check lists of all the things that are wrong about me based on this statement. I do independence because it is my protection shield.

See, for a while, I did follow the trend (cause personally I do believe our mother’s generation still had the right idea on relations), but it came with the sad realization of just how much things have changed. I have heard the lines and I have seen the betrayal. Gone are the days when your word stayed your word till you saw it through. Nowadays, its all about ‘getting-my-own-at-any-cost’ and sadly it has left a lot to be desired for. And so admitting to the defeat of trying to hold on to a past trend, I join the masses. Not in word, but in deed.

I'm frowned upon tho (mostly by the other HE’s of our generations) and I am taken advantage of sometimes when I let my guard down.

The frowners can’t understand why I just don’t keep my place as a Christian woman. To them I ask: and what do I do in the mean time while I hope and plead HE to get his act together? While I wish that this man will finally provide what I need while I also make a pledge to do so (cause I know I'm willing)? What do I do with my emotions while HE refuses to recognise them and respect them? what do I do with this commitment that I have nurtured for so long for his sake while he picks and chooses who is prettier between me and the lady next to me in line?

The advantage-takers dance around me spinning words they hope will trap me. See, their game plan is to come enjoy the comforts I have built myself and when they have become fattened by them, trample on this heart that I sincerely gave and laugh at the devotion I honestly promised and shared while they were too busy eyeing the next me. To them I say: enjoy is while it lasts because when I do finally catch you out, don’t expect me to be clinging on you like God’s gift. I got here on my own and I most certainly will carry on just the same.

Sure, a better version of HE (called HIM) may be out there and he could be working on gathering enough for both of us to give to me too but until then – my independence continues to bring me joy. The things I own, the relations I keep and more importantly, the spirituality I continue to build are mine and I got them all by myself…
When HIM does come along and does prove to be genuine, then i will gladly hang up my Ms Independent hat and high heels and stick closely to my mom to teach me the ropes only like her generation did it. HIM will have a wife waiting at home for him to give. this wife will do so with a smile and a new tune to sing while she prepares the bacon he brought! (lol)

For now: HE carries on on how he is fully capable of giving and how HE thinks Ms Independent is wild and untamed and uncultured to want to get it herself. And after I have waited so long for him to bring it home and give it, I finally decide to hang up the phone and go get it myself. Seems like HE spent way too much time talking about it and beating his chest on proud talk that he missed all the times that I held out my hands – just waiting for him to give me…. Now I go get it – MYSELF!

Shall we throw HE into the advantage taker’s bin?