womanhood

a work in progress

Category: Entrepreneurship (Page 2 of 14)

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Going around in circles

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.

Ask yourself,

Have I complained about this before?

Make complaining twice a sin.

Make making change the solution.

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K

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Raised

I wonder.
How to find more women who raise you.

And how to walk away from those who don’t.
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K

Eden

A Truth Bomb, 

As my friend calls it. 

This is no place for dishonesty. 

So let me lay it out there. 

For you women. 

You readers. 

Who take my good with my bad. 
I never wanted a child per say. 

It was the done thing. 

I did it. 

Never really knowing what it might entail. 
What has transpired from that, is a real journey. 

Moments of never fully unleashing any regrets, but also moments of not loving this whole scene of baby smell and whining at all. 

Being unsure if this is my path. 

Or if I just let it happen. 
I honour and admire my mother. 

Who passed no judgement at all upon these emotions. 

She has let me feel. 

That it is simply ok. 

To feel.

How you feel. 
I’m better now. 

I have Kholo. 

Which is for me.

A making. 

 

And I have found my peace, at least for now, in the role I play in Aru’s life. 

I have found my delight. 
So moving on from children. 

I am vulnerable. 

To heights of emotions. 

To a charged sexuality when it comes to other men. 

Outside of the love bonds. 

Outside of the contract. 

Outside of the need to have and to hold. 
And I don’t know what that means. 

Don’t know how to break it down. 

How to FIX it. 
But I’m learning now. 
I’m not the only one. 

And of course, that makes me feel better. 
But. 

For now I’m a prisoner just as much as a thriving flower. 

In my own garden of Eden. 
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K

An Ode to the Sari 

When I was little, I wanted to work at the United Nations and wear a sari everyday.

My mother introduced me to jute, hand woven fabrics and vintage silk.

My mother-in-law introduced me to chiffon, hand dying and colours that pushed me beyond cream and maroons. 

My grandmothers introduced me to soft, soft, soft cotton. Pastels and the way creases fold upon fold. 
I never liked my tummy, especially once I had started to notice it. 

Most women don’t see it. But a sari hides a tummy, simply depending on how you wear it. 

It suits some, it doesn’t suit others. 

It probably pairs itself best with women who adore it. 
A woman in a sari. 

Seems to do things to an Indian man. Or one who feels likewise. 

Stirs things. 

Commands something new. 

Makes the brows raise and the words slip from the tongue, “Ah”. 
When I started this collection, it was obvious to me that there would be saris involved. 

And there are. 

It’s just that my mum has first dibs, so you might need to wait for the next season. 
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Getting off

Yes.

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?

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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.

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My Boys

I’m here.

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.

My man.
The wise counsel at night when I’m restless and anxious.

My son.
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.

But.
That said.

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.
Stay.

Feel it anyway.
Because.
The only way out.
Is through.

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K

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Throw your hands up (in the air)

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.

By accepting.

What is in your hands.

And what isn’t.

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K

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From one woman to another

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
Right back.

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K

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Entrepreneurial Overwhelm

So sorry for going MIA.
This Kholo thing has had me swept under.
Like deep.
Super deep.

I’ve forgotten how hard it was to set up a business, the domain name, the e-commerce store, the pricing, the tags, the packaging, the shipping, it feels like it never ends.

It’s a lot like having a baby and I’m at month 8.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m loving it, but at times I’ve felt.

Overwhelmed.

And I’m wondering if Aru got the short end of the stick with my patience last night.

It’s so easy to feel so deep, you comprise everything around you.
Your yoga.
Your meals.
Your loves.

Because this thing drives you.
It needs you.
And you feel like.
You need to deliver.

But today.
Today I was extraordinary.

I walked out of the office at 2:30pm and thought.
That’s it.

Today, I’m taking time out.

And it has been.
Phenomenal.

Everything that is meant to happen, will happen and I trust that.

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K

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Anti

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. 
DELETE. 
I WILL NOT TOLERATE THAT SHIT WITH SILENCE. 

AND QUITE FRANKLY, YOU SHOULDN’T EITHER. 
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K

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