You can never tick all the boxes.
Category: Career (Page 2 of 13)
Life seems to me.
To be cyclical.
Learn what you need to learn, or it’ll go full circle, only to push you back to learn what you resisted the last time around.
So when you complain about something.
Have I complained about this before?
Make complaining twice a sin.
Make making change the solution.
How to find more women who raise you.
And how to walk away from those who don’t.
I want to stop looking at all the things you aren’t.
Because once I do that.
I can start seeing myself for all the things I am.
And all the things I need to change.
If you don’t look out for me, why am I not looking out for me?
If you don’t permit me, why do I think I need your permission?
If you don’t indulge me, why am I not indulging myself?
I am all these things for me.
Where do men get off.
Thinking women are inadequate.
But the sicker thing.
Or the bigger, most disturbing question is…
Where do women get off.
Behaving like they’re less than. Like they matter less. Like their needs are less important.
What are we teaching our sons?
What are we teaching our daughters?
From the woman who did this and is still figuring out why she did it and how to clean her mind from the potty state it was in.
Miles away from my boys.
My man and my son.
The cheeks that brush mine so often.
The arms that spread wide open to engulf me.
The wise counsel at night when I’m restless and anxious.
The abundant love that never doubts me.
The two of them.
Fill my world.
On most days.
Being without them makes me feel like I’m walking around without a pair of my limbs.
I don’t know why the credit card account is blocked.
I don’t know when lunch time has passed.
I don’t know how to find the strength to fill a day with more fabric talk.
And I long.
For each of them.
Each hug filling my insides.
I grow stronger each passing moment.
I learn about export duties.
I know how to send a firm “no” non-verbally at a harassing taxi driver.
I smile at receptionists and I know they find the magic in my smile,
A magic I thought I’d lost long ago.
I realise I’ve paid double per metre than I needed to.
I am pampered by others in my life, I usually care not to notice.
The mother coming home to Aru is anew.
The wife coming to V is anew.
The learning is in the risk you take.
The growth is in the leap you rise to.
When you feel pain, there is some kind of personal journey happening right there.
So don’t run.
Feel it anyway.
The only way out.
Somedays it seems you’ve just got to let go.
Not give up, but give in.
To what the universe is deciding for you.
Making the battle easier.
What is in your hands.
And what isn’t.
If you do one thing in life.
Be it this.
Surround yourself with incredible, loving and supportive women.
They will lift you up.
They will take you along their ride.
They will cradle you when you feel like you can’t move.
Find these women.
Then give them the love
Sometimes.I just don’t get most of the rest of the population. Like a WHOLE HEAP OF OTHER WEIRD DUMB ASS PEOPLE.
I just don’t get sexist jokes.
I just don’t get wankery.
I just don’t get people who play to the same fucking tune.
Seeking change yet unwilling to change.
I’ve had business men who won’t even reply to my messages (multiple) but when V gives them a missed call, they’re like jumping out of their pants.
I’ve met men who can talk to V and I about business, a joint business venture and they won’t look me in the eye.
I’ve met men who ask me about my career, then the moment they realise I’m delighted with what I do, they exit the conversation. I’m like HOLLA, I’m just getting started.
I just don’t get people who see women as less or not even on the page.
They make me sick to my stomach and my tolerance is getting down to negative zilch as I age.
Get off my porch.
Out of my life.
Don’t even take up a freaking whatsapp message of MB space in my beautiful, bountiful mind.
I WILL NOT TOLERATE THAT SHIT WITH SILENCE.
AND QUITE FRANKLY, YOU SHOULDN’T EITHER.
When I measure my selfworth upon your standards and your approval and your acceptance.It is the most ruthless, cruel and brutal way I can begin to be with myself.
I’ve started to realise now, how I let people set the bar for me in the past. They probably didn’t do it intentionally. But from parents, to teachers, to men I’ve loved and women I’ve adored. They all had their own standards for things and for some reason, I wanted to meet their approval, to be good enough for them. For so long.
Now I know. The best thing for me. Is to be good enough for me.
That’s it. X