I believe in cursing, rolling on sand, ugly crying, sending long messages, screaming #beasdramaticasyoucan…
But today, as I write this, I am grateful things did not go as planned. No, Lolwe has not accepted my work. No, writing has not paid for my groceries. No, I have not travelled. And of course, I have not fallen in love.
What I have, my dear reader, is a sink full of dirty dishes, half-eaten popcorn (I over-salted the bottom ones) and introspection. Maybe the introspection came with age? Turning 25 is no joke.
I spent today offline, washing my hair, DIY pedicure and manicure, rewatching ‘Charmed’… a good day, if you asked me. Apart from exfoliating my back; finding the right angle to scrub your mid-back is exhausting.
What would have ended as a lovely, productive and restful day almost ended with me spiralling. Of late, social media has become the place I visit when I wish to beat myself up.
The first post I saw on Instagram was creatively curated. I can recreate the post, but I have not because of procrastination and self-doubt.
Anyway, as sadness and heaviness in my heart were rising, I switched to WhatsApp. My love life is so dry that the first message was from my editor, asking for this week's post.
Remember the heaviness in my heart? My brain converted that to anger and convinced me I was the biggest failure in Nanyuki (if you have read Meja Mwangi, then you understand why being a failure in Nanyuki is wrong). So, I closed the apps, switched the bulb from white light to red, and played Mbosso’s latest song, ‘Pawa’.
While moving around, of course not following the beat, just moving to stop myself from spiralling, I had an epiphany: had things gone how I wanted, I would not have found time to introspect. Like I said, I do not subscribe to toxic positivity. I do believe we deserve ease. But had that ease come, I would probably be living a life I did not enjoy.
I quit my job without a plan, gave up on a small business I had, reluctantly moved back home, and that was the start of things falling apart. Now, I am happier. The job paid more, and the extra coins from my business would pay for the much-needed rag to warm up the house.
Had my life stayed on that track, had I fought to keep the job, I probably would not have fallen in love with Nanyuki. I would have been too busy to share hair tutorials and too busy to reread ‘Native Son’ by Richard Wright.
If that does not sound like I am winning, you are on track. It does not sound convincing to me, either. As a society, we allow people to celebrate different routes (read failure) in their lives only if the paths lead to something better, mostly financially.
Had I landed a collaboration with a hair company, had I published a book, had I been a better daughter, had I documented more of Nanyuki, maybe my brain would celebrate my pivot more.
Maybe the last two years will be the greatest years of my life. I am picking up the pebbles, redefining what success is to me, reconnecting with a long-lost spark, setting new goals.
I am not yet there. I want to give up every day, hihi. But I am glad things did not go as I expected. I am glad I ‘failed’; now I have a new path. A path that I get to decide where it heads, where the stop points are, who should join and who to leave behind. A path for me, by me, to me.
