THE BRA

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I was on the shores of Greece on the far stretched waters, the sun cast its golden rays upon the deck and the vessel swayed with the rhythm of the sea.

I wanted my life to be like this everyday, a vacation, with absolutely no worries from the HR team or an annoying customer. As the yacht sailed, I felt liberated, not a single care on my shoulder, I was just in so much peace and awe of the beautiful shores of Greece. The ride was a long one and I closed my eyes briefly to immerse myself in a peaceful rest, until I heard the sound of the alarm clock.

It was 5.30am.

Goodness, Greece was just a dream. I was back to my regular life. The one that required me to get ready to be at work before 9am.

I got out of the bed I shared with my husband Chike for three years. I walked into the bathroom, brushed my teeth and watched morning prayers online with my church home. I decided to fry plantain and make scrambled eggs for breakfast, but first I had to brew Chike’s coffee. I loved tea, but my husband could not do without coffee.

It was almost 7am when Chike came out of the bedroom in his suit and tie, he was ready for work, while I prepared breakfast, he was in the shower and getting ready for work.

“Good morning beautiful,” he greeted and placed his briefcase on the table.

“Good morning,” I said as I placed some plantains in the plate I was going to serve him with.

“It’s going to be a hectic day today, I have meetings back to back,” Chike informed me.

“Do you want me to pack up lunch for you?” I asked.

“Don’t worry, I will order food from the eatery,” he replied.

I didn’t like my husband eating from all the restaurants close to his office, because he usual had to send someone else to get the food, usually his secretary Linda. I didn’t like her for any good reason.

The first reason was because she was very attractive and she had a great body figure that made anything she wore scream of perfection. I was not blessed with the assets she had to draw men to her like a magnet, so the first reason for my not liking her was my insecurity.

The second, third fourth and every other reason would not make any sense, except she was always in close proximity to my husband, she spent forty or more hours a week with him in the office.

If there was any reason for her to lose her job, I would bring it on. I would fuel the fire and possibly set her up. She respected me, she greeted me well. She owed me that, but I didn’t trust her around my husband. He always spoke highly of her which made me even more angry.

“Okay,” I responded as I poured the coffee into his favorite red mug, one that we got when we went to Disneyland in Paris.

“What’s your day going to be like?” Chike asked.

“I have a presentation in the afternoon and a few errands to run before coming home,” I replied dryly.

“Sweet,” he replied and then took a gulp from the coffee mug while he scrolled through his phone. He seemed deeply engrossed with whatever he was reading.

He did this every morning. I cant shake off the feeling that something is up. He was glued to his phone, he no longer wanted packed lunch, he came home late and was too tired to watch a movie or eat dinner.

Last night his phone rang four times and he ignored the calls. I told him it was okay to answer, but he said it was his job and whatever they had to say could wait till morning.

He waited till I was asleep and he went to the bathroom and was there for almost an hour. I wasn’t sleeping, I heard every single noise, tip toe, phone notification. I heard everything but pretended to be asleep.

On the weekends when he was home, he would take his phone calls in a different room or in the car, or abruptly end phone calls when I walked into the room. I found it rather strange. My birthday was not coming up, so it didn’t sound like he was planning to surprise me. I felt it was something more sinister in my spirit.

We had not had sex in a month and he had stopped initiating. Whenever I initiated sex, he would pull the ‘tired” card on me.

I pulled up to the gates of my home at 6.45pm. It was a long day and the traffic made me tired and sleepy, but I left work early so I could beat traffic in certain areas of town. It worked. I needed to make dinner for myself. Chike may or may not eat, but regardless I would still make something. I could have ordered fast food, but I felt like cooking tonight so I stopped at the store and bought steak.

I walked into the house and turned on the lights and then the TV. I walked up the stairs and went into my bedroom to undress and take a shower. It was my ritual every single day. I listened to music through the speakers as I scrubbed my body with the liquid shea butter soap I bought when I went to London earlier this year. After my cold shower, I decided to wear my favorite lavender lounge outfit. It was not in the chest of drawers, so I decided to look in the clean laundry basket, it was not there. Strange. Maybe it was in the closet. I decided to look in the closet I shared with my husband, occasionally I put folded clothes in the drawer section of the closet. Chike’s clothes were neatly arranged in rows. He was a very tidy person. I opened the first drawer and took the clothes that were neatly arranged piece by piece. I opened the next drawer which consisted of socks and underwear, mostly Chike’s. Nestled in between two pairs of black socks and his boxer shorts was a bra. The lace trim glowed as the over head lights in the room rested on it. It obviously did not belong to me. It was not my size. It was a D cup, I wore a B cup bra. I had never seen it before, how did it get in here?

For a moment, time stood still as I tried to make out what was in my hand. A thousand thoughts ran through my mind and I could not make sense of a single one of them. I held onto the bra. It was now a reality. I could not unsee this and life in this house would no longer be the same.

With seething rage I picked up my phone and decided to make a phone call.

But to who?

to be continued

THE SEX TAPE (2)

“You are pregnant,” my friend Ari blurted out in shock.

My eyes were red from crying. How could I face my parents with the crazy news that I was six weeks pregnant? I had no symptoms, no nausea or the common symptoms. I just realized I was always tired and sleepy by the time i was in my third period class.

“Yes,” I replied there were so many thoughts on my mind.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” I pleaded. I didn’t want anyone to know.

“But you need to tell him,” Ari replied. I put my hands in my face as I sat on the toilet seat in my bathroom.

“How do I tell him?’I asked angrily.

How could I be so careless?

Ari gave me a questioning look. Her eyebrows twitched. “You open your mouth and tell him, that’s how,” she responded and rolled her eyes.

I know she was being sarcastic, but it was far from what I needed.

I sighed. Graduation was about a month away.

What if I started showing?

What would my parents say?

They would be disappointed. This was not what they had planned for me.

I remember standing in front of Jason at the school gym. I waited for his basketball practice to be over. I had rehearsed my little speech several times in front of the mirror. I also practiced his facial expression on receiving the news and his countenance afterward.

‘Hey,’ he said casually as he shut his locker.

“Hey” I replied quietly. He gave me a questioning look.

Are you okay?” he asked.

It was the first time in weeks we had spoken. It was an awkward encounter. I had said horrible things to him. I didn’t want to see him or even answer his calls or texts.

“Not really” I responded, avoiding eye contact.

He kept looking around as if he suspected he was being watched.

“What’s the problem?” He asked. I felt his eyes staring directly at my face. It was such an uncomfortable feeling.

“Can we go somewhere and talk?” I told him. I was not sure what his reaction would be when I dropped the bomb on him. but I also didn’t want his friends passing by and catching him in his feelings. I mean reacting.

“I have a date with Sheila in about half an hour, say what you need to say so I can leave,” he said coldly.

A few months ago, he didn’t sound like this. He was warm and friendly. Sheila decided to take my spotlight, and right now I looked like trash.

“Okay, maybe now is not a good time,” I said.

“Yeah,” he replied and began to walk away.

I watched him walk away as he pulled out his cell phone from his backpack.

I decided on the spot that I was not going to tell him.

“What do you mean by, you are not going to tell him.” Ari asked. She was at my house studying for the Biology test we were going to take in the morning.

“Sssshhh” I said. Ari spoke too loud. I didn’t want my mom, who was upstairs to hear our conversation.

“ I said what I said Ari,” I told her as I drew in my biology lab notebook.

Ari shook her head.

Three days later, after so much convincing from Ari. I mustered the courage to tell Jason. I told him to meet me at the Hamburger shop down the street from his house. We went there on our first date. I wished today would be all smiles and rosy like a first date. My heart was beating fast, but instead it was beating fast for a different reason. I had something on my chest I needed to get off. I decided to have an abortion. I prayed he would want the same too. It hurt my heart that we could have made great parents, but we weren’t ready.

He pulled up five minutes after I sat by the window. It was a fairly busy day at the hamburger shop. A few students were sitting at different tables chatting and laughing. He walked in and scanned the room to find me.

He walked towards me with a nonchalant gait.

“Hey,” he said as he pulled the chair and sat down.

I nodded in acknowledgment.

“Do you want some to eat? I am hungry, I could use a burger,” he asked.

I politely declined. He shrugged and went to the counter to order the burger.

He came back a few minutes after with a white ticket in his hand showing number 43.

“So what’s up?” He asked.

My heart began to beat faster. I stared at him, hoping he could read my facial expression, and also hoping the word ‘ pregnant’ would show up on my forehead without me saying a word. Instead, he stared back with a blank expression on his face.

“Jason, I found out something.” I began trying to pick my words carefully.

“What did you find out?” He asked.

“I am a few weeks pregnant,” I blurted out in response.

His face contorted into a frown. The reaction I expected from the beginning.

“How did this happen?” he said in a quiet but angry voice. I felt tears welling up my eyes. He was going to blame me for getting pregnant when it was a joint thing. It was me and him. He told me he loved me. I was naive.

“We had sex Jason, that’s how this came about,” I replied. My smart words stung him. The look in his eyes instantly became hostile.

“Of course we had sex,” he replied. “Have you told anyone yet?”

“No, I haven’t,” I lied. Ari was the only person who knew. She didn’t count.

“So what do you plan on doing with it?” He asked.

He just called the pregnancy ‘it’.

I was so shocked I could not reply.

“I will tell you what, I have my whole life ahead of me. This basketball scholarship means everything to me. I can’t put my life on hold for a baby, so let’s get rid of it,” he said.

I was not surprised. I tried not to show any emotion, but a tear decided to betray me by running down my left cheek.

THE SEX TAPE (1)

When you bury your past, avoid friends with a shovel.

I had just moved to Berkley from Arizona. I got a new job working for a lab. It wasn’t just the job that made me move to Berkely. I had met this hunk of a dude. He worked in tech, a six figure earner, and he was starting his own consultation company.

We met on Tiktok and started messaging and liking each other’s video. He planned a trip to Sedona, which was about two hours from where I lived at the time. I had a fun experience, we went hiking and also on a spa date. I didn’t want the date to end. We had a great weekend together, dining, hiking and enjoying each others company.

We decided to become exclusive. It was something I had begged for all my life. Every man I dated in the past made me feel I had to work for their affection.

This man was different. He showed care. He was empathetic. He could afford luxury.

I was on cloud nine with this man.

He lived in California, and he encouraged me to move so that I would be closer to him. I didn’t like Arizona so much. I moved to Arizona for college, and I was stuck there after college and landing my first job.

California seemed such a nice new place to start. It was a more expensive place to live in. I didn’t mind. The love of my life lived there, and I knew things would work out somehow.

I applied to several companies and got called by a biotech lab in Berkeley. I got the job. I was ecstatic.

I moved to California three weeks later.

The company paid to move me there.

The beginning of my problems started when I posted my huge win on Facebook.

“Hiya…… California, here I come. So excited to start a new life with a boyfriend and a brand new job,”

I got a lot of likes. Comments from friends and old classmates congratulating me on my huge win and new journey.

I got a private message from my old childhood friend. We lived in the same neighborhood and went to the same middle school and high school. Ari moved to New York after high school, and I never saw her again.

“Hey Cece,” she wrote.

I was excited to hear from her. I wrote back and we began chatting back and forth. She had moved to San Francisco and was working for a tech company. I was excited to have someone else I knew who lived in the same town.

“Have you heard from Jason? “ she asked me.

It reeled back a lot of memories I had vowed to forget. Jason was my first love, he was my everything. He was a tall six foot three inch fair skinned boy. He played basketball and was on the school team. He was everything, but at the time I was more into him than he was into me. I played second fiddle and loyal girlfriend while he cheated on me with Sheila, a popular cheerleader who was an only child with wealthy parents. I was angry because he cheated on me with her. I found out and got upset. He tried to play it like it was nothing. I didn’t care I wasn’t going back. It sucked because it was senior year. It was supposed to be a memorable last few weeks. He became spiteful and bitter. He probably bragged to his friends that he would get me back, and so far the plan was not working. A few days later. I found out I was pregnant. My whole world was shattered. How could I tell Jason I was pregnant with his child? He would be livid. It would end his basketball career. The career he

wanted so so bad. It was his ticket to the basketball scholarship he wanted. I told Ari about the pregnancy. She told me not to tell him. It was the biggest mistake of my life.

CONFESSIONS OF A CHEATING WIFE (7)

Present-day

I cried so hard all through the night. I had no idea when morning came. I sat on the floor by the window, lost in my thoughts. The thoughts that flooded my mind were filled with happy memories. Yemi and I had no bad memories. All he did was make me happy, and somewhere along the line, I began to ruin it, slowly.

The devil works overtime.

Or maybe it is just a case of not knowing what you have got until it is gone.

He was gone.

He had been gone for a few days.

He didn’t say anything to me.

He didn’t eat anything I made.

I felt like a stranger in the house with him.

Every single minute felt like a thousand years away from him. This had never happened before, not even when we were dating. Was he just hurt? Or maybe I didn’t know this side of him. The side that shows passive aggression during misunderstandings. It felt terrible.

He packed up a few clothes, put them in a duffel bag, and went out of the house. I saw him pull out of the driveway in his white Tesla.

Normally he would tell me where he was going and when he would be back.

He didn’t. He didn’t owe me that anymore. There were so many questions. He asked me I had no answers to.

I was so ashamed of myself.

Normally people cheat and never get caught. They do it for so many years, but my case was different. I got caught early in the act. Maybe I’ve been doing it for longer and my sins were fast catching up with me.

I didn’t want him to tell my parents. I wanted to tell them myself.

He didn’t care. He didn’t even want to tell anyone that the marriage had crashed. He told me that two nights ago. He was sitting in the living room downstairs on his laptop. For the fifteenth time, I fought the urge to go to him to talk, and the sixteenth time, I gave in.

“Yemi,” I said as I cautiously walked towards him.

He didn’t respond.

“We can’t go on like this, can we at least talk.”

He sighed. “What is there to talk about?”

“This whole thing.”

He laughed in derision at my comment. “I am listening.”

I nervously sat beside him. I looked at him. He gave me a cold look. I deserved it. I felt tears sting my eyes, but this was not the time to be vulnerable. It felt like weakness and that was one thing I never wanted to show. He spoke highly of me to people that were near him or people who would listen and I let him down in so many ways. He was like a savior. When he appeared in my life. I was reeling from the heartbreak from someone who didn’t even deserve to see me.

Took care of everything for me. Married me and made me comfortable. It made my mates envy me. Now all that was like a memory.

“Please don’t tell my family what happened, we can fight this together,” I told him.

“There is nothing left to fight, I can’t get over the graphic image of another man having his way with you in our bed. It is a nightmare that has haunted me ever since,’ he responded.

I nodded.

I could imagine how he felt. Osas was so good in bed that I probably fell into a trance while it all happened and came out of it the moment, I realized I had been caught.

“Would you forgive me?” I asked.

“It’s too early to determine that.” He responded flatly.

I regretted asking.

“This marriage is over,’ he said. He stood up and left me sitting there speechless.

I looked at the time it was 4:07 a.m. I’ve been sitting there on the floor by the window for 24 hours. It started with me kneeling down trying to pray.

How could an adulteress sit there and talk to God and expect him to listen? I knew he would listen. He had been listening to me all my life. I only called him when I was in an emergency or dealing with stuff but never when I was happy or having the time of my life. I felt like a welfare case.

I called my childhood friend a day before and told her what had happened.

She listened. All she did was listen.

I cried.

I screamed. 
 No judgment, nothing.

“Say something,” I screamed angrily.

“You have to pull yourself together, you sunk this boat yourself.

CONFESSIONS OF A CHEATING WIFE (6)

“Let’s go to dinner.” my cousin Idara suggested.

We had been shopping for her wedding since I got off work. We were currently at a bridal shop looking at veils. The whole experience was overwhelming for me especially because Idara was very picky.

“Sounds like a great idea, we can hit the bar and have a few drinks afterwards.”

“No drinking, don’t you ever get tired of drinking?”

“Nope, you need to drink once in a while to calm your nerves.”

“My nerves are fine.” Idara said and narrowed her eyes at me. “They sound bad to me especially with this shopping, you have not picked one veil that you like since you got here, I said tired of looking at veils.”

“Yes, you are right, maybe we should leave.” Idara said and looked at the store attendant who was showing us different veils.

“Take you time, I was just kidding.”

“You sound bored, let’s go.” She said and packed up her things, putting her cell phone n her purse. She told the store attendant that she would be back to look at the veils on a different day and we left the store.

*************************************************

I had not been to Food Shack in a while. It was still the same establishment, but I noticed a lot of changes. Idara and I sat in the patio area overlooking the bridge. We watched the cars move slowly in traffic over the bridge. It took me a while to figure out what I wanted to eat because I scanned through the menu several times. It also did not help matters because my phone kept ringing and I kept ignoring the calls.

The waiter walked towards us with our food. Idara moved her purse out of the way so the waiter could set the platter in front of her. The meal looked inviting. He placed my food in front of me. He asked if we needed anything else. We declined and thanked him politely. He left.

“Let’s pray.” Idara said as she put her fork in her rice.

“You should pray.” I told her.

“Sure.” She said as she recited the Grace.

We both said “Amen” after she finished reciting the Grace.

“This is nice.” I said after chewing the first fork full of food that I put in my mouth.

“I am so hungry, and the food is delicious, I am about to order a second plate.” Idara informed me.

It won’t be a bad idea, I haven’t eaten out in so long.”

“Doesn’t your friend with benefits take you out to eat?”

“Which one?”

“You have more than one?” Idara asked raising her eyebrows.

“I don’t”

“Okay, have you recently switched to someone else.”

“No, what do you mean by that?”

Idara smiled at me. I did not like the way this conversation was going, and she was really beginning to irk me.

“So, it’s still Osas right?” she asked looking coyly at me.

“Yeah,” I reluctantly replied. I hadn’t told her about Yemi yet.

“So how are things going with him?”

“I beg your pardon?” I retorted.

The fact that I was not engaged and living Idara’s current life did not make me less deserving.

“Chill I was just kidding.” she said and looked at me to weigh my response.

I rolled my eyes and put a forkful of rice into my mouth. She did the same, but her gaze was on me.

“So how is Osas doing?” she asked breaking the silence.

“He is doing great.” I said and nodded.

“Cool” she replied. She kept staring at me as if she expected me to say more.

“I mean the sex is amazing, but lately he runs home to his family.”

“He is married?” Idara asked with her eyes wide open in shock. I chuckled at her reaction.

“No”

“Are you sure?

“Yes, it’s just his siblings.”

“Doesn’t he have his own place?”

“Not yet.”

“That’s crazy.” Idara said and coughed.

“Calm down before you choke on your food.” I told her.

“I will choke on my food before you mess with a married man, what are you thinking?” she asked angrily.

“What’s your problem? He is not married, and we are just having fun, it’s just sex, calm down please.” I did not need preaching at the table. She knew what I had been through with different men and judging me was not going to help.

Idara looked upset.

“Let’s change the subject.” I offered uncomfortably. She shook her head in disagreement.

“No, I am interested in hearing more.”

“More of what? My boring life with Osas.”

“Maybe you should leave him alone.”

“Maybe he should leave me alone.” I huffed. Idara shook her head.

“Why are you shaking your head?” I asked. Idara always felt the need to say something. She was the perfect princess with the charming life.

“Why do you make poor choices when it comes to men?” she asked as she sipped from the glass in front of her.

“Poor choices?” I asked bewildered.

“Yes, you either messing with married or emotionally unavailable men, it’s crazy how you can put up with such nonsense.” Idara said.

“I don’t make poor choices, I guess those men are attracted to me and speaking of poor choices, your fiancé is someone’s ex-husband.” I spoke. Idara looked flushed.

“He is legally divorced,” she replied defensively.

“You were responsible for the end of their marriage Idara.” I told her.

ON THE RUN (2)

His mother didn’t like me.

Since the first day, she laid her eyes on me.

I struggled for her acceptance, and each time it seemed like she found more and more things to not like about me.

I had to be myself and that was not enough for her. I should have left the relationship. It is one thing to date and marry a bad man, the choice is up to the individual. Having bad in-laws is a whole different ball game that you should never sign up for. The red flags came up in the dating process, but I ignored them. I believed we both loved each other and we would fight our problems together. That is another mistake-no woman or anyone should make. Once the odds are stacked high against you, you need to fold and walk away. The pain may linger for a bit, but at least you have peace of mind and sleep well at night.

I grew up in a peaceful nuclear family consisting of my parents and my two sisters. My parents were middle class. They were able to afford us what we needed. College was our parent’s goal for us and they made sure it happened for me and my sisters. Whatever life we chose after college was ours. They didn’t want to feel like they failed by not giving us a university education.

I graduated and became an engineer working for a top architectural firm. I met my husband at a conference, Akin Da Silva. He was a tall, handsome, milk chocolate, complexioned man. He came from money. Old money to be precise. His family owned a lot of investment properties and they were set for life. His father died when he was seventeen leaving his mom a massive estate in Beverly Hills. The rest of the property and money was split between him and his younger sister Bewaji. They were not allowed to have access to the money until they turned thirty-five. It was the stipulation in his father’s will so they had to make do with their monthly allowances or get a job. They had a college fund while the average kid applied for financial aid and worked twenty-four hours a week. He gave a talk at the conference. I was completely mesmerized by the way he talked and how he carried himself on stage. I stole the spotlight by directly asking him questions during the question and answer session of the conference.

He asked for my number after his talk on stage and we started dating. When I first met him, there was nothing that denoted wealth about him. He was just a regular guy who drove a 2001 Honda Civic. He lived in a moderate apartment and was going to grad school. We went on a few dates and became a couple afterward. I never met his family for the first three years. We spent the holidays with my family. My parents liked him, he was such a nice and humble man. My sisters hoped we would work out so they could have a brother. I smiled at the thought of being his wife someday if he asked me.

During Christmas, he asked me about my future plans and began to use the word “we” more often. He told me, that if things worked out for us, he wanted us to build a life together. I was happy. We were happy. I started grad school in January and took out loans to go to school. I was working on getting an MBA besides my engineering degree. It would be seen as a plus on my resume and that was what wanted.

A few months later, he proposed. I accepted his proposal. He was thirty-one, I was twenty-eight.

I knew no one is his family. He told me about his mom and sister. I had seen their photos. He told me his father had passed away. Those were the only things I knew about his family.

We had put an offer on a house, he didn’t want a big wedding. I wanted a fairy tale wedding but we had coughed up so much money on this nice house we were looking at. We had planned to get married the following year.

The progression of our relationship in hindsight was a red flag from the beginning.

Nothing prepared me for new revelations that were coming up.

One Saturday morning in November, we were snuggled in bed. We were watching TV and planting occasional kisses on our lips The doorbell rang. We looked at each other in surprise wondering who that could be. We were not expecting any guests and it was too early for Amazon delivery.

He got out of bed and threw on a white tee shirt. I got out of bed and followed after him putting on my robe.

He opened the door and a woman walked in. She seemed to be in her fifties, she was well dressed and had on sunglasses.

“You seem to be doing well for yourself Akin,” she said as she admired the house. Akin was silent. I took a closer look at her as she took her sunglasses off.

The woman was his mom. I recognized her from the pictures he had shown me.

“Who is she?” she asked him.

He looked at her and responded. “My fiancee.”

She eyed me up and down. I became uncomfortable. This was not the best way to be introduced to your future mother in law in my own opinion. I barely had any clothes on if not for covering from the bathroom robe I had on.

“So, she is the reason why you have lost touch with your family?” his mom accused.

I was shocked.

5 lessons I learned from dating a Narcissist.

You may think you are in love until it is too late.

Sooooooooo I dated a narcissist.

I never knew the true definition of a narcissist until a few years later. I wish I knew this earlier, it would have saved me a lot of tears. Narcissists appear normal, just like you and I. A charming personality, oozing with perfection, and then the road becomes dark and painful.

It started with love bombing. He said all sorts of sweet things to pull me in. I fell head over heels in love with him. He acted like a true gentleman, owned and dined me. He bought me roses. It was the typical thing you would expect from someone when you are in a relationship. I felt like I had found the one. He wanted to get married, have kids, build a life. He said the right words tugged on the strings of my heart the way he felt would pull me in. Looking back, I realized I meant nothing. I was discarded like used toilet paper. I was not even sure he was the same person.

He was insecure. It was the first thing I noticed about him. He always needed validation from me. Initially, I thought seeking validation was just to be on the same page with me when it came to making decisions. It was because he didn’t feel like he could make good decisions. He hid behind the shadow of my wisdom. He also became clingy. He always wanted to control who I spent time with and talked to. He would threaten to stop talking to me if I did not adhere to his requests. I found it doubly odd. He was the kind that could end long-term friendships because of his needs. He was selfish.

The discard stage hurt. We had no quarrels or anything. He stopped talking to me. In the attempt to find out why, he said there was nothing wrong, and he wanted to move on.

It was funny that after the first few days of breaking up, he checked on me to see how I was doing. I genuinely thought he felt remorse, but it was not that. He wanted to absolve himself of guilt by acting like he cared, and also making sure I was not angry. We remained friends, but I learned valid lessons along the way.

1. He was an extremely fragile person. He exuded so much confidence, but behind the confidence was a fragile man whose ego was easily bruised, and it only took one slight to shatter him. He also had a knack for keeping grudges.
2. He also showed an exaggerated self importance. He was extremely arrogant. He claimed to have high standards, but they only existed in words and not actions. I also realized he had no standards when it came to choosing women. He preyed on the emotions of single women looking to settle down. He also had a lot of sexual escapades and loved dating women who were less likely to look for commitment.
3. I noticed he had no long-term friends. He had no one he was accountable to for his behavior. This is a red flag, because he never admitted to fault and would always find a way to blame me.
4. He was always right. He was never wrong about anything. Challenging him on anything was never a good idea.
5. Gas lighting was something I experienced, and I knew I was done. I was made to feel that anything in the relationship that went wrong was always my fault. I was walking on eggshells literally. We could go from having a cheerful and happy conversation to a full blown argument. I found myself apologizing for things I didn’t do or say just to keep the peace. In this way, I am slowly losing myself.

When you find yourself in a toxic relationship like this, it is not easy to walk away, but please do. It is for your sanity. Physical abuse is bad. Emotional abuse is deadly.

Walk away because you are worth more, you have family and friends that love you. There are beautiful people who want to come into your life and bring out the best in you. Do not deprive yourself of that opportunity by being with a narcissist.

In the long run, it takes a while to dissociate from this bond. Get the support of your friends and family, and definitely a therapist.

THE CURSE

“Wakey wakey”

I said as I strolled into our bedroom.

Giselle lay in bed, looking ever so beautiful even as she slept. Her beautiful tresses were spread across the pillow. She was such a beautiful view to wake up to every morning. Without make up, she looked gorgeous.

It was time to get dressed. We had a long day ahead of us. Our wedding was coming up in a few days. One hundred guests had seats at the beautiful wedding to celebrate our union.

The past few months were hectic. It was one drama or the other. It came from people who were close to us.

Jealousy

Anger

Resentment

Giselle finally found love, and all hell was let loose. She had a child with the man she found love with, and it became a problem. We had spent weeks praying together and going to therapy. The therapy sessions were brutal. We had to be vulnerable with our therapist, who did a great job stripping us off the walls we had built around ourselves.

At a point, I felt she was going through postpartum depression. She had different moods every day. Some days she would not want to hold the beautiful child we made together, Henrietta.

She was the happiest six month old human I had ever met. She had her mom’s beautiful eyes and smile. How could she look at the beautiful baby and not want to hold her? After a while, she was convinced she was not a good mother, and maybe someone else deserved to be Henrietta’s mom. It broke me.

I, on the other hand, had my issues with Stephanie, who was Giselle’s cousin. We were engaged to be married, but we broke up. I met Giselle and things got heated up and then complicated. Stephanie told everyone that Giselle snatched me from her. She said all sorts of nonsense about me. I tried to talk to her, but she refused. Giselle didn’t care. It put me in an uncomfortable position. Giselle was ready to ride and die for me. Family gatherings became like funerals for me. I felt like a Judas who had put two cousins asunder. If Giselle wasn’t pregnant with my child, maybe Stephanie would not have been so angry. I got used to the mean mugging, the snide comments, and the cold treatment from some family members. Stephanie’s parents were indifferent.

I stared at her as she slept. I didn’t want us to be late for our appointment. We had an hour drive, and we had to be there by noon. We also had to meet with the marriage counselor at 3pm, and dinner with her parents by 5pm. The nanny was downstairs. She watched Henrietta everyday from 9am till 5pm. I asked her to stay while we went for dinner with Giselle’s parents, and promised her overtime money. She was more than happy to oblige.

“Giselle wake up.” I called out as I walked into the closet. We had a huge walk-in closet in our bedroom. Her clothes occupied more than half of the closet.

I picked out a white shirt, black slacks, and my favorite Ferragamo belt. My shoe rack was by the door. I would wear my favorite ones. I could not understand why Giselle was still asleep. She always took her time to do everything. She had her morning routine, and she had slept through her alarm. She didn’t wake up to read her Bible in the closet, she didn’t go running three miles. She was not listening to her podcast. She must have been exhausted from running around yesterday.

“Babe,” I called out as I walked towards the bed to wake her up. She was still.

I leaned in to kiss her forehead. Normally she would stir a bit, open her eyes and smile at me. It didn’t happen. She was not breathing.

“Giselle” I called out and shook her.

She didn’t move. I felt for a pulse. There was none.

Giselle was…… dead.

Almost doesn’t count

But everybody knows, almost doesn’t count. ~ Brandy 

Brandy was right a decade ago, and she is still right today.

If they have one leg in and one leg out, it means nothing.

If they haven’t made up their mind about you, it still means nothing.

If they were thinking about you and didn’t act on the thought, it means nothing.

From today and onward, no more “almost”. Almost there, almost happy, almost crying, almost doing, almost tripping, almost buying. 

 No more!

Being intentional about everything we do is important.

Being intentional in the lives of the people we love is priceless.

When we have an “almost” attitude to a person or to life itself, it holds no value. Imagine what buying a gift someone would do to a person, it would make them happy, what if you almost bought the gift. It means nothing. It doesn’t count.

I have heard people say “It’s the thought that counts”. Fair enough. It is the action that counts. Moving forward, no more potentials. No more , what could be?It is either ‘it is’ or ‘it isn’t”.It is great to know that you are worthy of all the love you choose to give a person or thing.  You are worthy of the respect you choose to give a person or a thing. You would not want to be half assed about how you show love and appreciation to another person or a thing. If you would not be half assed about how you treat people, then do not accept half assed love or respect. Almost doesn’t count. It either is or it isn’t. 

A person that values you will put effort  to make sure you feel valued, wanted and loved. It is very important to understand that as much as we want to feel loved and cherished, also make sure you are giving the same energy to the right person/people that we allow into our lives. Vet the people you let in, so you don’t get disappointed when they don’t turn out to to be how you envisioned them. No “almost ” energy.  

So in order to move forward and reset, take an inventory of what you don’t need, what is not provided and what won’t matter in the long run and get rid of them.

Is there someone in your life that you are giving the “almost” energy to and deserves to be treated better? You are in charge of your life, you can upgrade , downgrade and remove where you deem fit. It either is or it isn’t. 

Just know that no matter what

 Almost doesn’t count.

Unforgiveness- the only prison in which you have the key to set yourself free.

As the year comes to a close, it is a good thing to look back and reflect on how the year has gone.  

Forgiveness is one thing we need to reflect on.  There has been offense from friends or family members and you tell yourself you have forgiven them. 

Here are some scenarios 

1. When you think about what happened, you are still angry. I sometimes rehearse how I could have responded to a situation, because I am still dwelling on the issue in my head and heart. I know there and then that I have not truly forgiven. 

2. You find yourself discussing the incident of almost ten years ago as if it happened today. I have heard a lot of people talk and hold on to how their parents treated them as kids. Their parents have most likely forgotten or not even known they offended their child(ren). Instead, the child grows up harboring thoughts of resentment and unforgiveness.  

3. When you find yourself refusing to be friends with anyone who loves them, you have not truly forgiven. I call it witchcraft campaign. It is when you decide to create enmity because you and a certain person are not in good terms. Imagine going to an event and you decide to avoid certain people because you have a clash with someone they love dearly. You will be the uncomfortable one in the room.  

4. When the attempts to make things right is met with your rejection, you have not truly forgiven. It is because you have maybe justified anger, it may be pride or betrayal. Maybe you need more time to process the conflict. Any or more of these reasons means that you have not forgiven. 

Check your heart.  

Have you truly forgiven that person? 

Do you know what it means to forgive a person. 

If you can forgive, you are a powerful person.  

Revenge is for the weak-minded person. 

Forgiveness means you are willing to move forward. It unties the cords that tie you to the offense that was committed against you. It sets you free. Imagine being bound with huge ropes to a container. You can’t move and it is uncomfortable. It is what unforgiveness feels like. You are the one suffering. The person who tied you up is not suffering. Forgiveness is for you. It is not for the other person.  

To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you. ~ Lewis B Smedes 

We always say other people are toxic, we may be the toxic one. When you hold on to unforgiveness, it’s like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. Isn’t that toxic thinking? 

It is exhausting carrying baggage from your past into your future. Your journey does not need the baggage of unforgiveness to where you are going. Leave it at the bus stop of forgiveness. 

Forgiveness is a choice you make every day. It is not a onetime event. The reason why is that the offense will come back to your mind again, you have the choice to let go or hold on.  It is a commitment. People process forgiveness differently. For some it is sooner than for others.  

A good way to look at it is putting yourself as the offender asking for forgiveness. It hurts when you ask for forgiveness and it is met with rejection. There is so much beauty in life every day to look forward to. 

When you hold on to the pain from the past, you actually hinder yourself from seeing beauty in a new day and new situations. You hold yourself at ransom that only you can pay.  You can’t free yourself if you don’t pay the ransom. Forgiveness is the ransom. 

If you want to love. Forgiveness will always be a constant. If you can’t forgive, you can’t love. While forgiving other people, also know that you have to forgive yourself too. 

Forgive yourself for mistakes you made out of ignorance. 

Forgive yourself for hurting other people. 

Forgive yourself for holding onto weights and things you should have released a long time ago. 

In this might, you need to learn to forgive, not because the other person deserves happiness, but because you deserve peace.