Sometimes

Sometimes you need to be
Loved
Kissed
Spoken to
Comforted
Cared for
Hugged
Tickled
Begged for
Missed
Held
Encouraged
But humans don't have super powers
But it sure would be nice to have someone...
Who just knows.

You...

Your eyes...
They took me to a place so deep I never quite figured out where I was. Looking into them I thought of butterflies and fairies and everything else corny. But the most important thing was that they took me to happiness.
Happiness, a land that up until then had denied me entry. Happiness a word that could not roll off my tongue. But here it was. Happiness. Lying in a man. A man so beautiful, so perfect a man made just for me.
Although our love was brief. It made a lasting mark on my heart. With you I could be quirky and sophisticated all at the same time. It was a confusing time but a beautiful time.
I am grateful for all that we were, I am sad  for all that we couldn't be.

Slimdowns and Setbacks

Like most girls (okay SOME girls) I have embarked on an endless sea of diets. Each time like these girls I fail to achieve my goals. Its a painful rollercoaster I put myself through but I guess I am now numb.
Today on a long bus ride from the Corporate Prison(aka work) to home I started to think earnestly about all my attempts.

The first time I started I was about 15 I had just started to pile on the pounds. I started a workout programme and quit within a week.

The second attempt was made when I just discovered Tumblr. Everyone seemed to have a fitblr and I didn't wanna feel left out so I started the journey too. I failed.

The third attempt waa done to bring back WonderBoy. Who is WonderBoy you ask? The one that got away I say. I honestly upto this point did not have the slightest clue why WonderBoy and I broke up. But I do remember that throughout our relationship I felt fat and ugly. I didn't understand why a good looking bloke would want Lard as a girlfriend. My feelings about myself most likely resonated in my actions. With WonderBoy oh I LOVED. At the same time I was at my most vulnerable point in life. I felt like a fraud like one day he was going to take a serious look at me and realise he had been drunk our entire relationship. That fairytale ended and we went our ways. However I still had a longing for him. So I jumped like a monkey in the backyard and ate rabbit food. Zero results. I somehow hoped that he would notice my new Salma Hayek like figure and beg me to come back. He didn't. Instead the next time he saw me he said "I really don't think you should be eating at all" he meant it as a joke but I got the message. I had gained.
From then on I developed a fat girls appetite. Candy, Pizza and Sodas were unashamedly demolished by my tummy.

I stepped on the scale one day and it told me my 5 2" frame was chasing a three figure weight. I decided this is it.

And so with that in mind I decided ENOUGH WAS DEFINITELY ENOUGH. Although I started this journey about a month ago I have learnt so much about my eating habits that I am determined to to make it to the final end.

My journey to fit starts now :)

Organic Writing

I'll be the first to admit that even though I find the writing process a cathartic almost therapeutic experience I struggle to come up with what to write.
When I started this blog I went through a thousand thought processes. First I wanted it to be a weight loss blog...then I gained weight. Then it became a fashion blog...I couldn't take enough pictures of my outfits. The whole time I kept trying to pattern my blog after many others I had seen on the blogsphere. I have always loved to write, rather than a silver spoon I was born with a pen and notepad in my mouth.
I began to dig deep into why I truly loved to write and when I truly love to write. I discovered loud music blaring into my ears provides the perfect environment for my musings. As I type this out I am on a bus and "how to save a life" by The Fray is keeping me company. However, my point is I have discovered that letting my blog grow organically has allowed me to truly dig deep into why I truly love to write.

Although I do not have the most glamorous life out there I do believe that my daily activities provide me with enough ink to allow my pen to write. Its been a beaitiful experience. Though I will admit sometimes I cringe at my own writings it has allowed me to grow.

Half the time I log on to my blog i really do not know what to write about but when I dig deeper inside and let the thought process flow its comes naturally.

So here's to a naturally flowing blog :)

I Want It All

Hi my name is Kuda and I want five children. 3 girls and two boys. Wait! let me change that...Hi my name is Kuda and I want five children in this day and age. Many people often ask me "why do you want five children in this day and age?" That statement beguiles me frankly speaking. I had no idea the size and to a certain extent structure of a family needed to live up to a certain trend.

I know for a fact though that during the mid-nineties to early 2000s working mums with a small number of children were classified as the ideal. My mother herself only bore two children her reasons are unclear but I would like to believe it was a decision she made for her own benefit. I respect women who do this I really do. However i would like to believe that there is more than enough room to accommodate different lifestyle choices.

When i mention I want five children people naturally assume I want to be a stay-at-home-mum (SAHM). NO! I still want a fulfilling career and a fulfilling job. I feel like the Women's Rights Movement has been distorted by many to suit their own choices.

I like to believe that the point of early feminists was to give women a spectrum of choice. And if that choice includes being a mother to many children or being a stay at home mum so be it.

Now speaking from my own choice, why can I not be armed with an MBA in one hand and a sippy cup in the other? I am not downplaying the challenges it brings but i am just saying, If I want it then surely I should be able to get it.

I feel like too many of us women are becoming too concerned with how others live life. Women themselves are too critical of other women. We constantly look over the shoulders of other women lying in wait for any mistake they might commit. That is what we have been reduced to.

However, my parting words are simple Do you Boo, do you.

The Colour of the Earth

I remember the first time it hit me. I looked in the mirror and tried to see the difference but I couldn't see anything notable.  So I decided the next day during playtime to coax all my friends to all line up in the mirror so I could get to the truth. Was I what they said I was?

And then it hit me. Staring back at me was the cold hard truth. I was darker than all the rest, I was a dark skinned girl. This single event has been instrumental in shaping the person I am today.

Growing up dark skinned atleast for me was very emotional. I was constantly told how dark I was and of course I always noticed the cute lighter skinned kids get treated better. I don't know if they were actually treated better as I was peaking through the eye of an emotionally scarred child. But to me it seemed they were.

I remember my Kindergarten's nativity play, I had wanted soooo bad to play the role of Mary. Teacher Susan's hurtful words still come to mind "Mary was a muzungu, so a light person should be Mary". At the age of five I was told my skin was not good enough to get me the starring role despite my talent. Bruised. Hurt. Forgotten. I moved on.

Back at home, the most common joke told was how my uncle thought I should be hidden because my darkness would scare off the neighbours. I laughed too, but boy did it hurt.

I learnt quickly enough that I was not pretty and that boys wouldn't want me because I was too dark skinned.

At 14 I had a need to belong. To be accepted. So I started to bleach my skin. I liked this new Kuda. Her face was not so dark anymore and her arms were almost beginning to look like the colour of her mum's arms. I was excited. But deep down I was scared. Scared of who I'd become if I continued. Would I look like Bana Queen the chitumbuwa lady with her red patches on the cheek? Or will I look like Beyoncé ( Like the product automatically came with a long flowy golden brown weave pssh). I quit it and I was back to being plain old dark Kuda.

I grew out of that phase and met fellow darkies during my university years. This gave me a heap of confidence and even though I still get bouts of "I am dark so I am ugly" syndrome, I have learnt to love me.

However, my mind always races to that moment in the mirror.  If someone had not pointed out my darkness, would I have felt that it was a bad thing? At that tender age I knew nothing about skin colour and its influence on beauty. All I saw were my friends and I, little girls without a care in the world oblivious to the shades that exist.

Suppose we start to tell our children from an early age that they are not ugly they are just a different shade of beautiful. Suppose dark skinned models graced more covers of magazines what would that tell our little girls? Suppose the dark skinned girl got the starring role and the light skinned girl played the best friend? 

My point is we need to create a culture that is all inclusive regardless of our shade. And if we push this into mainstream media quickly we start to adjust the mind of people and these very ones will impart a message to their little girls. That they regardless of their skin colour are beautiful.  That they possess a skin colour worn by Kings and Queens. That theirs is an inheritance to cherish.

It is time we re-wrote the story of the dark skinned girl. The stage is set let her finally become star of the show.

There is a God Somewhere

In this fast paced world, it has become almost obscene for one to mention spirituality or have a religous inclination. I won't lie sometimes when I sit I feel that is the easier route because of all the things that my human mind fails to comprehend.

The last couple of months or so I have experienced events that have me saying "there has to be a God somewhere".

Last May I lost my father, a man so full of life he seemed immortal. Suddenly life had thwart me out of my comfort zone and thrown me on the cold hard streets. Being the firstborn, I had to conceal the effects of the impact. And conceal it well I did. I cracked my Kuda jokes and consoled anyone who wished to be consoled. I was the pillar of strength. Not because I gave myself that title but because the world expected me to carry on my firstborn duties and "be strong for Mum and Katebe" as everyone put it. But when the sun went home and the night time creeped up, my pillows were the only ones that knew the depth of my pain. I took to sleeping in my father's bed on his side (the left side) hoping that somehow he would be closer to me. (My mother slept in my room) Because at that point it felt like everything about him was buried at grave No. 5, Memorial Park. It was a lot of pain to bear for one soul but I masked it.

No matter how intense the pain got, I refused to pray. I refused to pray to a God who let this happen. A God who would allow a 47 year old man die in his sleep. A God who would allow a 16 year old boy see his father's dead body. I. REFUSED. My heart was closed to the thought of God.

I am a baptized Christian do not forget. Was baptized for 4 years at the time of my father's death and very spiritually inclined. But somehow all that went down the drain when Dad left.

The pain became unbearable and one night I decided to talk to my long lost friend, Jehovah. I let him know how angry I was, how much pain I felt and just how much I missed him. I didn't get the reply I so desperately wanted so I slept. As the morning came, I felt an inner peace that could only be described as Supernatural. For the first time in months my heart was at peace and I had a deep longing for God's word. The first scripture I turned to was John 5:28,29. This is a VERY familiar scripture to me. I have used it several times in my public ministry. But on that particular day it took on new meaning. In part it says "...all those in the memorial tombs will hear his voice and come out...". This time I read it in a different light, I read it as "Dad will hear His voice and come out". God given reassurance at the appropriate time.

As I meditated on the scriptures, I realised that God had nevet let me go. Granted he did allow Dad to pass away, but he never ever caused it. But even though Dad did die, Jehovah was constantly with me. Looking back I see that my family of faith constantly looked after me during that dark period. Kind words, hugs and phone calls from loved ones were all Jehovah's way of saying he has my back. I feel extra ungrateful now however it has given me insight into the kind of God I serve.

He works in ways that can be difficult for mere men to understand but if we put in earnest effort to learn and understand these ways,  he reveals them to us. He wants us to cultivate a relationship with him. He is willing to take all the baggage and hurt that we carry with us and turn them into his own load to bear.

And as I enter the new year with the knowledge of these spiritual gems I am more motivated than ever to rekindle my relationship with God. I am learning albeit slowly to trust not in my understanding but in Jehovah's.

Kuda
Xx

New Beginnings

Anybody who knows (truly knows me) will agree that I am in the race for the corniest human ever. Thus it should come as no surprise that I love new beginnings. And as we are about two days away from 2014, I feel a familiar sense of excitement building up.

2014 for me feels like an Ode to 2013. it has not been the best of years but neither has it been the worst.  I am exceedingly grateful for the multitude of blessings I have received but i still habour regrets nonetheless. So I feel invigorated to start anew.

Like most people I am not new to resolution making. I am in the constant habit of making AND breaking resolutions. This time I have decided to put a leash on myself. I have decided to give my resolution a time limit i.e 240 days. Why 240? Don't ask it is very random. But i do feel that is sufficient time to get myself out of this rut and onto a better path. Below are my goals, broken down of course in terms of areas.

1) SPIRITUALITY
I am a deeply spiritual person and much of my strength comes from the personal relationship I have with Jehovah God. Lately however, i feel like I have pulled away from my spiritual life. So in order to gain it back I have decided I will:
1. Read the Bible and meditate on it every single day. The aim is to finish the whole Bible in a year( out of the 240 days time frame I know, who says you can not rebel? ) I plan to achieve this by waking up an hour early every single morning.
2. I want to draw closer to my family of faith next year. Hence I will invite atleast 5 families over to dine with Momma and I over the course of the year. During my time in Nigeria soooo much love and hospitality was extended to me, I feel it is right to pay it back.

2.WEIGHTLOSS
                                                            *****DRUMROLL*****
Yes of course I want to lose weight. I have seen my 5ft 2" frame balloon to over 90kg. Why would I not want to lose it all? I especially want to focus on this during the first six months because lets face it October is a wonderful month to wear a swimsuit. I will chronicle my journey from time to time. I promise you I will lose the weight.

3.BOOKS AND WRITINGS
I plan to spend more time reading books. My goal for the year is about 20 books. Half of which should be by African authors. I also plan on putting more effort into my writing and hopefully I can complete a couple of short stories whilst I am at it.

So there you have it folks, my 2014 in words :)

I Am Ready

Its been happening a lot lately.  I try not to fight it, I know it is a product of my subconscious.  I try to hide it but I know its happening.

Ed Sheeran does not help this feeling at all. He speaks of "being my safety" and "keeping my body warm". I just realised the one truth I have been avoiding like a Keke on a Lagosian street, I want to be in love.

I am not your typical romantic. I have become used to the routine of  single life. Matter of fact, I find myself constantly justifying why I am single. But at the end of this year I feel the scales slowly pulling from my eyes and I feel it, I want to be in love.

It is extremely difficult for me to "put myself out there" as others so easily say. I just don't know how. Growing up, the importance of independence in a woman was so strongly ingrained in my system that I believed I and only I could provide everything I needed. But no one ever told me that I would one day want to lean against a man's chest. No one cared to tell me that a man's scent is so intoxicating you spend time craving it.
And now that I grow older I realise I want that.

I am by no means asserting that a woman's achievements amount to nothing without a man. No! But FOR ME, after a busy day of mergers and acquisitions I would like to come home to a strong pair of arms wrapped around me.

So there you go, I am searching. Hopefully I can chronicle my journey into the 20 something dating jungle as often as I can.

Love and Smiles.

Life's Little Treasures

I have had  what can only be termed as a rollercoaster life these past two months. I almost feel bad for not making a frequent appearance here. I say almost because the events that explain my silence would make for a great blog post.

Firstly,  I am in Nigeria...how did that happen? I don't know either. All I know is I leapt when thw opportunity came along.
Alot of you who follow me already know for a fact that I worked for a while as a Research Assistant. Most of you will also know that I absolutely LOVED my job. So whats the problem? As much as I tried to conceal it, my job was gettinge into a rut. It became routine. Nothing special was being added to my skill set. I knew deep down that I couldn't hold onto it for infinity.  Something would have to change pretty quick.
Like every other fresh graduate I dropped a multitude of application letters. Some of which I had totally forgotten about. Surprise! Surprise!  I got a call to attend interviews for a management trainee position in a bank. Yes I said it a bank. That week was probably the most emotional draining week since my father's death. Needless to say I got the job. And as part of the job I am required to spend 4  and a half months in Nigeria. 
A part of me just died when I was informed I would be leaving in two days.

I made every excuse I could make to try and get myself out of getting the job. Scandalous I know. It was not that I didn't want the job.  But the thought of treading on unfamiliar grounds is what chocked my courage. I KNEW this was the break I  needed but I just couldn't let go. With urging from family and friends, I found myself on a plane to Nigeria and this is the point I am at.

Its been a fantastic time so far. I have about two months left to go of my stay here. Been meaning to savour all the sights, flavours and sounds as cliché as that may come across.
If I had kept fighting it, I probably would have never got to experience what I am experiencing right now. Granted, its been an uphill battle I am grateful I am here. Look forward to making many more Nigerian friends.

Curves and Edges

For as long as I can remember I have always had problems with my weight. This is a confession that some of my closest friends find very hard to believe. This is because at every opportunity I have chosen to mask my insecurity with false confidence. The truth is deep down I am an insecure mess.

This insecurity has stemmed from unkind comments from people including family and friends alike. But like the good natured person I am I never let it show. I carried on with my lifestyle as unhealthy as it was.

However, soon enough the alarm signals started to go up. During a field visit in Serenje one time, my heart tightened and it felt like the devil was scratching it with his finger nails. It was the most agonising five minutes of my life. Yes that is a dramatic statement but if you know me you know I have a flair for the dramatics.

The biggest alarm signal was like a bullet to my head. My beloved albeit crazy mother came skipping into my room proclaiming her new "skinny" weight. The woman that birthed me was now at a solid 80. And me her progeny?  I was sitting pretty at 91kg. To this day I still do not believe that is my weight. I kept convincing myself he scale was cheap for a reason. It probably had a million plus one flaws that somehow added extra kilos to me.

Once it sunk in that I was fatter than my mother. I started he path of self pity. This journey was accompanied by chips, pies and ofcourse romany creams (what is a fat person without romany creams).
I could have let this path shred me to smitherens. However, 2 days ago I got "ah ha" moment!!

I decided during that moment that enough is enough.  And it is my pleasure to announce to you that I am now embarking on a lifestyle change!! Not a diet no, but a complete overhaul of my eating habits. Out with the junk and in with the fresh foods.

During this time, I promise to litsen to my body and let it be my guide.  I will soon post up how exactly I intend to achieve my weight exactly. But I am truly excited to begin this journey.

The Power of Kindness

This post has been inspired by my job. Yes my job. The same job that I (sometimes) whine about.
During my time with Oxfam Zambia I undertook an evaluation with them to understand people's behaviour towards water treatments and their willingness to pay for them.
This work took me to the heart of a peri-urban area called George Compound.  For three months I associated and worked with people from this lively neighbourhood.  Most of my interactions were with women. During this time I grew to love and care for some of these people. But most of all they taught me that there power in humanity.

Often times, even though these women had little to nothing, I hardly left without a parting gift. A cup of munkoyo, a freezit or even a plate of nshima were often shared with me as a symbol of courtesy.

During hot days when all we could do was sit and chat, my visitations became sources of comfort for these women. I was greatly humbled by how much they confided in me. Some of these women had passed through life's worst troubles and yet they still were going strong. Through this I began to feel empathy not sympathy but empathy. Even though my simple life was tonnes better than their own lives, I identified with their state.
Even in my own misery I found comfort in these women. On cold, rainy days I remember being offered hot water for tea and tonnes of rugs under my feet to keep me warm.  I remember being offered a cold drink from one woman's stock on an unusually hot day. Alot of what they gave took great sacrifice.  As simple as it maybe these kind gestures ingrained in me a deep lesson.
A lot of these women did not expect anything from me but they freely gave what little they had to me out of their humanity.  I had nothing more to offer them and they knew this but they did it anyway. 
This is a life lesson I hope to pass on to others who cross my path. Being good is not done ouy of duty or out of selfish gain. It is done out of love. Being good should not have conditions. You are good to people because you are a good person. A friend once told me "A man who is rude to the waiter is not a good man at all". The point of thay little quote is that kindness and goodness are not selective qualities.

A bemba quote says "Lesa ala bwekeshapo" and I know that as simple as those acts of kindness were, Jehovah God saw through their hearts and rewarded them in time. That is the sort of person I now strive to be. A practitioner of goodness, having no partiality but self sacrificing in ways.

What I give will not be limited to material things. A kind smile or even a hug are going to be added to my bag of goodies.

To the women who taught me this profound life lesson Thank You. We may not speak often but my heart has never betrayed you ♡

Time ticks away...

Recently a friend of mine reminded me that we were less than 5 months away from 2014. Ah Oh!! I don't know about you, but for me it is another year of unfulfilled resolutions. I am usually not very concerned when I don't achieve resolutions. However, something in me has triggered panic this time around. I realise that in the next year I will be 24 that is 6 more years to the landmark age of 30. I really do not want to look back at my life and have an avalanche of "what ifs" clouding my happiness.

I have always had a vague idea of what kind of life I have wanted to have. Vague it has been but the point is it is there. If you ask me now, how much of it aligns with that vague plan, I might be reluctant to tell you. This state of non-achievment has resulted not from laziness but from coasting along. I will be honest and tell you that I really have not packed in much effort in achieving some of my dreams.

I have promised myself that all that is about to change. And this time I am not waiting for the stroke of midnight to take out my journal and list my goals. From time to time I will chronicle my journey. Here is a list of my goals.

1) Weight loss, weight loss, weight loss!!
    Yes you have heard it all before but I NEED to do this. The death of my father recently made me realise    how fickle life is and how I need to take care of my health if I am to be around for a long time.

2 )Cutting my hair
    Yes after much internal debate I have decided to go natural and cut off my relaxed mane. It is something I have grappled with coming from a background of severely low self-esteem.

3) Enlarge my professional skills set.

4) Learn how to drive
    I recently got so emotional when I realised my daddy never got to see me drive. So this is really not for me but for him.

I will not overwhelm myself, however I intend to achieve all four of these goals before the curtain closes on 2013.

Atinzwa

He heard my prayer,
Looking at you,
I know he heard my prayer.
I have never met you
but I know.

We are years apart,
but i can feel the love I have for you already.
I hope you have my smile and my smiling eyes.
I hope you have my skin tone, be proud of it, Kings and Queens have had it too.

I hope I am a good mum.
I hope when you have scabs and sores i kiss them better.
I hope you look up at me and I give you inspiration.
Inspiration to be a better person and to change the world.

Have I taught you how to pray? I surely hope I have, It is the best form of communication there is.

Am i unbearable sometimes? I am sorry, I am learning too.
Whatever mistakes I have made in my life, they have been made right in you.
I have already named you, your name is Atinzwa, because I know he has heard my prayer.

I hope I am seeing you grow,
If I am no longer around,
this is a re-affirmation of my love for you.

Tongues and Words

I sat at the back of the bus, uncomfortably of course as had become the norm during every bus ride. The lady next to me constantly peeking at my phone, I tilted it so  I could not feed her curiosity. We were approaching my usual stop and so in my best local language accent i reminded the conductor that I would be dropping off. Everyone turned to see the girl who spoke. I was quite used to this by now so I was not phased at all. However, one man quite elderly in appearance looked at me with a fleeting look of pity. He didn't need to tell me and I did not need to ask him what wrong I had committed. We both knew...
 
Growing up, my parents encouraged me to speak English and urged me to constantly improve my English vocabulary. Local languages were learned as a by the way thing. Therefore, before I was even in my pre-teens I spoke the Queen's language eloquently. But deep down I always felt a need to learn my very own language. So slowly I picked up Bemba and Nyanja till i became conversational. Although my newly acquired local language skills sufficed, I always felt insecure speaking it fearing that I would make some unforgivable error.

It was not until i grew up into my twenties, that i realised how beautiful my mother tongue is and just how much I was missing. Since then I have strived to learn new words and speak more of my mother tongue.

However, the truth is the world we live in seems to have no place for the african language. Our teachers speak to us in English so that we "pass our exams". We are told that in order to win people over we have to speak English like the English themselves. Our constitution honours the Queen with her language. And all these things beg the question "who is giving the Zambian language a chance to survive??"

Why can we not teach our children in our local language. Surely we would be preserving our culture right? Why should the document that governs our ways of life be written in another's language. If such great strides can not be made then perhaps it can be done at a micro level. Parents do your children know their heritage? Can they speak their language?

I hope one day I am blessed with children, and if I am I want to remind them that theirs was a language spoken by noblemen in their own right. Warriors and Heroes share their heritage. What have you done to preserve your heritage today??

Kuda.

Above all else choose CLARITY

Clarity-a sense of being clear. Those few words have engulfed my mind this entire week. Now let me emphasise I am NOT at some confused state in my life neither am i confused about who I really am. However, the clarity I wish to achieve is related to my goals and dreams but most importantly to the relationships I have cultivated or thought I cultivated.

I recently had a conversation with a good friend from varsity.  She asked "do you know so and so is now engaged" I did not know this and I mentioned it to her. I was a little hurt that I did not know that "so and so" was now engaged because in my mind she was my bestfriend. However, when I pondered over his fact,  I came to the realisation that "so and so" had become nothing less than a stranger to me. We had not spoken in so long and could hardly maintain flowing conversation when we met. Then it hit me, "why am I holding on to something that has been lost for forever?"

I realised then that I was investing resources into dead weight. I was using words and phrases that did not fully correspond with the reality on the ground.

Needless to say I started a stocktake and boy was it eyeopening. Not only did I realise that my 'best friend' and I had nothing in common, I realised that my favourite uncle wasn't even my uncle. So then I decided it was time to clarify my life. No longer was I going to put precious resources into relationships that were literally failed states. Instead I was going to focus and re-channel all that precious energy into nurturing the relationships I already had that were blossoming. No longer was I going to spend my life as an inbetweener you know in a state of being there but not quite there.
However, I have also started to take the clarifying process a step further and henceforth I am extending it to my social media persona. I realise now the person I am is an aggregate of the different people I surround myself with and to a large extent this includes people I interact with on social media. Therefore I am now clarifying those relationships putting them in their place. I am also purging myself of people on social media who drain me. How many times have you ever complained about someone's status update or their inappropriate photos? Do you realise that the time to waste on complaining could be channeled into something useful. Now I respect people's personal space and hence I realise I can not control their actions even on social media but I can control MY actions. Consequentially,  the relationship between me and the unfollow/unfriend button has developed. I have also decided to put a buffer on my social media life and my personal life.  I can not share everything I am on social media because I realise I enable people with a canvas on which they can depict me however they please. And I will not give them the satisfaction of doing that. This process has taught me an overlooked truth, I am responsible for ME therefore I engineer my goals, dreams and ambitions.
A huge part of the achievment/realisation of my goals and dreams is the link they share with the relationships I hold. No matter how self-assured you are, people will always shape your life, which people is entirely dependent on you.

Now before  I face lawsuits I am not encouraging the use of middle fingers or hate filled texts. Sometimes these people have not done anything necessarily wrong. It's just that the relationship has not worked out. It happens some people are meant to be forever and some are just there to fulfill a certain need. That is the cycle of life.

So I urge each and every one of you to embrace clarity and start to really re-evaluate the relationships you have and consider if they have turned to dead weight.

The Journey to Myself....

From the title alone, you might think this post is a tear-jerking, heart-spilling episode ypu wanna run away from.  Hold up! let me explain it to you.
I often times hear folks talk about "finding themselves". Whatever that would mean I am not entirely sure. However, I do think it is said with the feeling that the person has not truly found their anchor in life or their true identity. A lot of us seem to say it mindlessly I will admit, but I do believe it carries that connotation. I on the other hand have a different or "warped" (according to some) view of life and the journey to ones true self. I believe that the beauty of life lies in the sequence of events that come together and form a beautiful mosaic pattern. Truthfully I have never really ever heard someone stand up and say " I have found myself". Have you? and that is because we never truly come to know ourselves until the end of our life.

Others will argue that there is no point in that if we will not come to enjoy our newly discovered identities. But that ladies and gents is the beauty of our existence. We do not live our lives to satisfy a particular goal or need. I believe life is meant to be savoured whilst we seek the ultimate end. The problem is that most of us are far too focused on achieving some set out goal that we miss out on the little things. For example when i speak of my University experience, I HARDLY talk about the actual graduation day, rather my mind travels back to the memories of my time there i.e the little puzzle pieces that made up the bigger picture. I am of the belief that there is no moment in life that is not worth remembering. Because ultimately those are the things we remember most-the seemingly trivial moments.

And hence this is why I have aptly named my first post "The Journey to Myself", because I want to chronicle the little moments that have added up to create my bigger picture. So welcome to my journey and I hope you can share yours too.

These are the words she wrote...

Kuda
xx

finally!