THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE UGLY
No one knows how difficult it is to write this bit. When you grow up and know that there are a whole lot of people that look up to you, all there’s to that is “being perfect” to the dot. Of course NO ONE is perfect but 🤷. You get what I mean, right 😏?
There are bits of me that “NO ONE” was supposed to ever know. But for people to refer to you as blessed and anointed without fully comprehending how you got there, is pretty much half baked if you asked me. I mean, no one becomes blessed or anointed out of no where. Ever read about people like Bishop T.D Jakes, Juanita Bynum, Joyce Meyer and the like 😏? Oh well, now you know. And for you that doesn’t know, just stick with me 🙃; you will in a bit.
The truth is, you and I have had to deal with a whole lot of stuff at a point t; issues that have had us side tracked. The main subject matter being sexuality 😬; yeah, it had to come to light at some point.
PS: The names of the individuals involved are withheld through these series for the sake of their reputation. I hope that’s understandable 🙂.
With that said, Let’s dive in; shall we?
I was woken up to understanding at about five, six years when all I’d rise to was the presence of one parent, my mother. “How about your father?” a question most of you must be pondering on 🤔. Ugh um, at the time my parents had parted ways and back then, I couldn’t bring myself to asking my mother about it. I mean, he’d show up for my birthday with a present obtained within his means; but his appearance was a subject that lingered at the back of my mind. My mother, on the other hand was a hard worker who at the time functioned at two jobs just to make ends meet for us.
Regardless of the fact that I knew and watched her determination towards making things better, I and my mother were detached. She played the role of provider, protector, parent and the bit that caused fear to descend upon me-disciplinarian. Her movements rarely made room for her to spend time at home and hence with me. I often was left behind under the care of Uncles and Aunties alongside the company of my cousins, who I viewed as spies looking for an opportunity to sell me out to my mother who’d in turn flog me; much as their intent was to instill discipline in me.
I was at times picked on and made fun of by my cousins especially for my inability to cook. There’s a significant incident whose memory I can still recollect. I was called by an aunt to the kitchen; her instruction was,“You are preparing today’s rice.” No sooner had she concluded her statement than a panic attack set in. I didn’t want to seem disobedient, I was timid; scared of saying,”I didn’t know” and more so watching myself turn into a laughing stock. I therefore began to put the ingredients together in the saucepan, but on tenterhooks. To cut this short, I turned red with embarrassment having forgotten to add cooking oil to the mixture. My habitat often excluded me; I branded myself as “weird” and I became an island.
I found solace in playing with peers in the neighborhood most of whom were boys and thus, being introduced to what is commonly known as “making out” 😑. The elders at home were strict over every other disciplinary issue but TV images. We often watched movies, soaps, series, you name it and there’s not one time I remember being told to go to bed even when the chosen show would be dubbed PG+ rated. So whenever we watched the TV shows especially soaps, I and my then counterparts would take what we’d seen on our respective house TV screens and apply in the games we played-“Mummy-Daddy” being the common culprit.
The “making out” vice drew me close to men that took advantage of me at a very tender age. Because I was an island, with no one to freely express myself around, a golden platform was presented before the “uncles”. They wouldn’t have sex with me (I guess because I was a minor) but they’d touch me inappropriately. My brain at the time didn’t register a problem at all. I was convinced that these men were showering me with love and I felt safe;-thereby remaining silent 🤐 about my encounters.
As I grew up, the vice took root within as well. I was introduced to the dating scene at a very early age (I think I was about eleven 🤯). Regardless, I was a sane kid who understood that my mother’s sweat towards bettering our lives wasn’t supposed to go to waste. I therefore was focused in class and a disciplined student as my behavior in class didn’t reflect any signs of adopted habitual practices.
I forgot to mention;-I grew up with my mother as a born again christian. I initially thought that I was born again by birth up until a student conference that was held at church. The eyes of my understanding were opened up to the fact that being born again is a personal decision; the conviction hour set in and I made my decision to follow Jesus on 29th August 2009. It felt so good to stand in the presence of God at the altar and make that commitment.
Back to our story; secular music was a vibe. I found the music styled up compared to the gospel genre. I often lied as well, something I wasn’t good at because I always got busted whenever I did. My sexuality resulted into my involvement in a spiral of relationships. Firstly, because dating was the in-thing in school. Secondly, I didn’t know how to say “NO” and this on very many counts caused my falling prey of peer pressure. I generally hated displeasing people (I feel like you’ve either been that kind of person before or you’ve met them before). Thirdly, I didn’t want to be branded as the fake kid and therefore I conformed.
I convinced myself that I wasn’t sinning, since I didn’t have sex with any of the guys. And so, that was life for me. I kept jumping from one guy on to the next whenever a breakup transpired. I wasn’t about to accept being on my own. With time, the gap that existed from the absence of my father began to feel real. Don’t get me wrong I loved my mother, but the natural tendency of girls growing closer to their fathers kicked in. The need for love, protection, friendship, approval, etc weren’t largely met and as a result, I began nursing wounds inflicted on me as a result of a relational disappointments.
I wasn’t at a place where I didn’t know right/wrong. I mean, I was still the religious girl that always attended chapel(this is what it was called in school) and church where sin was talked about (sadly not in-depth). I walked on that lane up until I felt exhausted and torn apart. I was just tired of not doing the right thing; of always falling short. At about eighteen, I recommitted myself to Christ.
The vice didn’t leave because I still related with the opposite sex. I got to a place where I thought it was normal and there was nothing wrong with having some bit of “fun” (Do y’all relate?). I still conformed even when I was tired😫 but, I didn’t know how to get out. I just didn’t know how to STOP indulging. So, I decided to get comfortable in what I thought was my predicament up until the beginning of 2018 when I made up my mind and told the devil “NO MORE“.
Icebreaker: Did you catch a grip of you 🙃?
This here isn’t an inspirational kind of piece but, a write up that brings to light the struggles (especially sexual) most of us have been gripped by. How about you torch into the depths no one but you, knows about and perform a self check? Are you sure you’re okay?
Love, you are entitled to BETTER. You can be FREE and in Christ. The decision though is in your hands 😇.