womanhood

a work in progress

Category: Family (Page 3 of 23)

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. 
X

K

On FIYAH

When did I loose my voice?

My raging fire?

When did I decide to walk away, instead of fight.

Instead of saying, “HEY, STOP”.

I got so sick of you.

All of you.

Barrage after barrage.

Words that never stop.

Each trying to win the argument.

Thinking my silence would at least end the pain.

If it wouldn’t find a space of peace.

But you know what.

Now I say fuck it.

Fuck the peace.

I will say my part.

Firmly and truely.

Even if it hurts you to hear it.

Fuck the peace and fuck you.

Because you had this shit coming a long way back.

K

 

PS – So sorry for all the swears in this one. I was truly angry in that moment in time and I guess if there are no swears, it doesn’t feel true for me. I can’t feel that rage. Because that is how I express my rage.

 

Git

What life are you running from?
What life do you want? 
 
What am I shining upon you? 
 
 
There is no room for that man in my home. 
 
In my spice box. 
 
In my jewellery jars. 
 
No room for that man in my bed. 
 
No room. 
 
 
 
So go. 
 
Get gone. 
 
To the Himalayas. 
 
To the furtherest point from all of this. 
 
Because. 
 
If you don’t go. 
 
Imma send you there myself. 

It’s Not About You

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.

X

K

Low

You pretend to be above it all.

But today you showed me just how really low you can go.

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?

X

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.

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.

X
K

Angst

I don’t think you understand.
What it feels like.
To not know.
When he’ll pounce next.
To leave the home in fear that your baby might not be in safe hands.
To see bulging eyes.
To know that you.
You. 
Are not present.
In that moment.
So far gone.
You could do anything.
And so today.
Like other days.
I hold my shit together.
He cries in my arms.
But what if.
What if tomorrow.
I rile up?
What if tomorrow he hits you?
Then what you gone do?
With all that angst?

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. 
X

K

Setting the bar

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.

X

K

// 

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

Page 3 of 23

Powered by Life, Love and Everything In between.

Subscribe

Oh hi, please subscribe if you'd like posts to come auto-magically to your inbox.

I promise, no spam. xx K

Yay! Cannot wait to share more with you. xx K