Shie Wanyoike

Bold Enough to Fight

Throughout her adult life, she felt an instinctive need to shield herself from everything and everyone around her—friends, family, and even men and women unknown to her. Without the guidance of therapy to help her understand why she built such strong defenses, she often wondered if she was fighting battles that didn’t need to be fought. Perhaps it was because she now wielded a power she hadn’t possessed when she needed to protect herself as a child.

One coping mechanism she adopted was drinking, using it to drown her sorrows and conjure a sense of happiness. The moment the scent of whiskey reached her nose, an almost instant surge of joy flooded her; her troubles seemed to dissolve, and a rush of endorphins overtook her as she stepped into a world consumed by an unfamiliar thrill.

The night always began with the sound of clinking glasses and the shared excitement of fellow revelers, filled with cheer and applause. With each sip, her heart raced, the music grew clearer and louder, and every word resonated with newfound energy. Conversations transformed, becoming sweeter and more engaging, as everyone sought to be heard in the shared rapture of the moment.

Yet, as the night unfolded and the joy around her reached its peak, she often felt her energy begin to drain. At the height of the celebration, she unknowingly slipped into memories of the past, revisiting the pain and hatred that marked her childhood. As the hours passed, bitterness bubbled within her, transporting her back 20 years to relive the verbal and physical abuse, and the relentless mistreatment she endured at the hands of her guardian.

With each drink that filled the emptiness inside her, her tolerance for those around her shifted. The line between friend and foe blurred, and she lost the ability to discern who truly stood beside her.

Her wrath often fell hardest on those who loved her the most. She came to understand that she had never truly known real, unconditional love. In her mind, everyone who tried to get close to her seemed to have ulterior motives, always seeking something from her.

She reflected on the truth that she had never experienced genuine, unconditional love. In her mind, everyone who approached her was searching for something. The first man who told her he loved her was 33 years old while she was only 14. Should she have fought back then?

In a conversation with a friend, she received a powerful insight: at some point in their lives, their adult selves attempt to fight for and heal the younger versions of themselves—the ones who endured childhood trauma. They strive to do the things they wish they could have done back then, to resist, to fight, to protect, and to save themselves. Should she have fought back then, when she wasn’t strong enough? Now that she is strong enough, now that she is bold enough, is her mind programmed to fight, now that she finally dares to conquer on her own?

My past does not determine my future

In the African communal living context, it’s common for families to exhibit unique traits that distinguish them from one another, even across different regions. Homes are typically classified based on their financial status or the possessions brought in by their owners compared to yours.

Your homestead might be known as the affluent family, revered by other households whenever one of you passes by—the epitome of wealth that every family aspires to attain. The following family might represent the typical household, where members hold average jobs and live with average standards. Another family nearby could be notorious for its heavy drinkers and disruptive behavior, known for their lively gatherings which often end with little good to be said. Across the street, there might be a family plagued by poverty, where children trek to school with worn out hand-me-downs and cracked feet so severe that a coin could be hidden in the cracks. Yet, everyone shares a common fear of the house downhill, rumored to be inhabited by a witch. It’s a dwelling never to be directly pointed at, one hurried past with no whistle, and never leisurely strolled by.

We all knew that boy who was full of joy and innocence, always eager to spend time anywhere but his own home. Only he knew why he preferred other households, where, despite often being given errands to run, he was provided with basic necessities. He received hand-me-downs in perfect condition from the neighbor’s son, a piece of bread at breakfast, and occasionally, he was even allowed to join them on outings.

We all knew the girl whom the community had little faith in, expecting nothing more from her than to finish primary education and then marry off. Misunderstanding her curiosity and need for love, they wrongly labeled her as an attention-seeking delinquent who would ruin not only her own life but also the lives of those around her. They would whisper quietly behind her back and laugh openly at her, disguising their mockery with laughter in her presence. Meanwhile, her peers’ parents privately warned their children to steer clear of her.

Now you see, the power of being genuine and true to oneself, regardless of how others treat you, stems from the innocence one carries through life. Often, children are unaware of why those around them behave the way they do, especially when faced with varying financial struggles and complex family dynamics.
God grants the disadvantaged the ability to see opportunities that the advantaged often overlook. They are endowed with extraordinary strength to work a little harder. They become visionaries, seeing a future that is unimaginable to others. Their dreams bring hope, and they cling to the hope to forge their own paths shape their destinies and be the first in their families do so. Some might even label them delusional.

In hindsight, I realize the truth in the saying that God only gives you what you can handle. The young boy now owns his own firm, where villagers come seeking employment for their children and grandchildren. He has become the poster boy for success. Some of the families who were once affluent seek advice on matters they themselves struggle to comprehend, offering him a seat at their table as an equal when he no longer seeks merely a seat.

If he hadn’t endured a journey that many deemed embarrassing, he wouldn’t have developed the ambition to shape his future by holding onto the values instilled in him by his poverty-stricken family. He would not have realized that his past does not define his success.

I was one of those children dealing with complex family dynamics. From the outside, it might have seemed like I had everything, but as the saying goes, still waters run deep.

So He Hit Me

One of the factors contributing to my unmarried status at above 30 is the absence of healthy marital examples in my life. Throughout my years, I’ve encountered more tumultuous cohabitations than I can recount. The sheer volume of such experiences could fill countless volumes. And as you can imagine this hasn’t excited me for the married status yet.

I can recount numerous stories, such as witnessing a man engaging in nightly battles with his wife upon returning home drunk, subjecting her to not only physical abuse but also verbal assaults filled with disparaging remarks about her personality, character, and history, and even resorting to hurtful comments about her physical appearance. Another instance involves observing a woman enduring a life of shame by remaining married to a predator, who is a molester, pedophile, and rapist, all in an attempt to maintain some semblance of status within her family and or society. However, the most common scenario I’ve encountered repeatedly is women being disenfranchised from their rightful place at the table, often through job loss as a request from their husbands and consequent powerlessness in marriages they had entered expecting partnership.

While some may downplay it as merely a slap across the face, asserting it’s not sufficient grounds for me to leave, those with sound judgment would firmly believe that it marked the onset of a potentially catastrophic future if not addressed promptly.

Besides manipulation, gaslighting, and fear of further abuse, financial dependency is a primary factor that renders women trapped in abusive relationships, regardless of their awareness of their unhappiness and the gradual toll it takes on their well-being. Even worse abusers often isolate their victims from friends, family, and support networks, leaving them feeling alone and without a way out. And I assure you, not everyone possesses the resilience to venture alone.

Before meeting her husband, she held a lucrative job and saw herself as an independent woman, diligently earning her rent, food, clothing, fuel, insurance, entertainment, and savings. However, upon meeting her partner, he pledged a monthly stipend that would cover her personal grooming expenses and provide funds for her social groups, along with a small amount for her parents. Regrettably, she took the offer and abruptly quit her job, placing her trust in someone she believed would provide her with everything she desired.

As her husband continued to attend work and progress in his career, thereby ascending in social status, he began encountering new acquaintances within his “circle” who could now enhance his recently attained position and reputation. The woman he once considered the epitome of beauty, not only his partner but also his favorite companion when exploring new dining spots or spending time with friends, became a source of embarrassment to him.

She assumed the role of household manager, focusing solely on maintaining cleanliness and order in their home, overseeing the children’s schooling and extracurricular activities, managing family gatherings, and instilling in them the teachings of Jesus Christ.

Financial success exacerbated the power imbalance in this relationship, which led to misuse of power and control over his wife. Granted sometimes the opposite is true, in this experience, the wife is at a disadvantage. Her Husband lets his newly inflated ego which leads to arrogance, dominance, and belittlement towards his once love of his wife.

Diminishment, absence of empathy, and skewed priorities resulted in the husband engaging in conflicts with his wife, while simultaneously inflicting lasting emotional wounds on his children, necessitating eventual intervention to address the ensuing trauma, for those fortunate enough to receive assistance.

Indeed, when he strikes you once, he demonstrates his physical dominance over you and asserts his belief that he can act without your consent, exerting control over you whenever he pleases. When you feel the impact of that slap on your face, it should immediately trigger awareness of the potential for future instances of domestic abuse.

I’m determined not to let this become my narrative, especially after witnessing variations of it throughout my life for so long.

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C6QFSluyRUT/?igsh=MWU3aDMzcmd2NHZ5ZA==

Creating My Boundaries

Boundaries do not only dictate where two countries or two continents or two homesteads border but they also define where a person draws a line between themselves and the relationships around them. They dictate when to say no as everyone else screams at you to say yes and give the same person permission to dive into a higher level of intimacy than a normal person would perceive normal.

Over time, I’ve noticed the boundary between my personal limits and my true self has become less distinct. There are instances when my gut tells me to say no, but I fear disappointing others or being seen as disloyal by those I hold dear. It’s disheartening that not everyone I consider close would reciprocate that sentiment. I’ve grown accustomed to approaching relationships with sincerity, seeking love authentically, yet often finding it’s not reciprocated in the same manner.

My boundaries with friends have been not just blurred, but rather overshadowed by the pursuit of social capital. I’ve invested resources, favors, and supporting those I believed would support me in return, hoping they’d be there when I needed them most. However, it’s become clear that this hope was not a guarantee. This realization has shifted my perspective on life. While it may sound cliché, I now understand that placing trust in myself is the only way to truly control the outcome of my life and above all GOD

What am I trying to say?

Saying yes even when something drains my energy is now a thing of the past.

I acknowledge that transitioning will likely lead to conflicts, but I am committed to addressing these conflicts rather than allowing bitterness and resentment to fester within me. I will no longer overextend myself in an attempt to please others out of fear of disappointing them or witnessing their disappointment. Instead, I will prioritize identifying my own needs, desires, and values, using them as a guide to make decisions that align with my well-being. I refuse to shoulder responsibility for others’ emotions by altering my behavior or character to avoid causing anger or sadness. Usually, when I struggle to comprehend my own emotions, I inadvertently allow other emotions present in the room to take precedence and influence my emotional state.

I am committed to asserting my needs and expressing my opinions within my relationships without hesitation. I refuse to suppress my own desires to fulfill the needs and wants of others. While some may view this as selfishness, I see it as essential self-care for my overall well-being. Previously, I’ve struggled to treat myself to the same level of generosity that I readily extended to others, whether through simple gestures like giving gifts to friends or being resourceful in various ways. When it comes to spending on myself, I’ve often found myself overthinking and second-guessing. It’s worth noting that I’m still grappling with debt, a year later, as a result of splurging on someone close to me out of love. However, reflecting on this, I question whether I would prefer to be in debt for indulging myself instead.

Establishing boundaries when needed will serve as a means of self-care, rather than a display of selfishness or unreasonableness on my part. By prioritizing my overall well-being, I’ll be able to replenish my energy reserves. This will enable me to fully engage in the relationships I’m intentionally nurturing, giving my all – a stark contrast to the partial effort I might have previously offered.

All this to say, extend understanding and grace whenever I respond with a firm NO. As earnestly as I seek grace, I commit to offering the same kindness and understanding when met with a refusal. Admittedly, accepting a “no” has been a personal challenge for me, but I’m striving to cultivate inner peace in such moments, with faith as my guide.

Long time coming

A whole 34!

On the 5th of April, mere hours after celebrating my 34th birthday, I embarked on a profound journey. This decision carries immense weight as it marks my departure from a residence I’ve called home for three and a half years. Moreover, it signifies my resolve to shed burdensome habits and behavior that no longer serve me.

I‘ve experienced a whirlwind in every facet of my life. My romantic life is practically non-existent, or rather, it exists but falls short of my expectations. Family dynamics have been strained, and despite efforts to reconcile, I find solace in moving forward without their support and accepting the repercussions from some members. Friendships have evolved; some have naturally drifted apart; a process I embrace. Conversely, others are being consciously rekindled, infusing new meaning into these connections. I’m also cultivating fresh friendships, aiming to reciprocate the positivity I receive, and navigating towards wholesome, purposeful relationships.

No, my work is far from being in disarray, and for that, I’m grateful to God. Since assuming the role of office manager, I’ve never felt more at ease in a position. It seems tailor-made for me. In just a year and a half, I’ve already left my mark and foresee abundant opportunities ahead. Our bosses have fostered one of the most conducive working environments imaginable, leaving nothing more to be desired. Shortly, I plan to return to school. Within six months, I was entrusted with the role of a money laundering reporting officer, a responsibility I’m fully committed to. Additionally, I derive immense satisfaction from overseeing our foundation, which supports a children’s club in education, arts, and sports.

Abusing alcohol is a challenge I’m prepared to confront head-on. I’ve been actively seeking methods to diminish my reliance on alcohol as a coping mechanism. It was a revelation when I admitted aloud that I’ve never remained sober for an entire month since starting college at Cooperative College University. While I cherish my time at Coop, it’s been over a decade, and I’m eager to explore new hobbies to fill the void left by alcohol and rediscover joy in healthier pursuits.

I’m aiming to cultivate interests from my youth, such as writing, reading, painting, and photography, along with newer hobbies like cooking and discovering new restaurants, whether alone or with friends. I’m eager to delve into writing about topics I’m passionate about and find purpose in, sharing my experiences to educate others. I’m overcoming my fear of solo outings, recognizing that waiting for company may lead to missed opportunities. Each month, I’ll maintain a log of my planned activities and whether they come to fruition.

Self-awareness is another subject I’m eager to explore, delving into what motivates me and how I can effectively manage it. I aim to understand and address my triggers, striving to evolve personally for the benefit of those who have consistently shown me unconditional love and understanding. I’m prepared to tackle difficult topics to gain insight into myself and potentially reshape my perspective on life.

My health has taken a turn for the worse; I find myself gasping for breath after just climbing a single flight of stairs as if I’ve just completed a ten-mile run. Additionally, my clothes no longer fit properly. This realization prompts me to consider rebranding myself from the youthful and immature girl I once was to the woman I am evolving into. This transformation encompasses various aspects of my life, including my living situation, wardrobe choices, and how I interact with others.

I established this blog as a channel for creativity, envisioning it as a future platform where individuals can share their life experiences through writing, anonymous storytelling, or both. I anticipate inspiring those who have faced adversity and found ways to persevere and find peace. While I used to wait for success to lend encouragement, I now realize that every breath is an opportunity for success. I am a survivor, and this is my story, whats yours?

3AM Thoughts

Do you agree with the idea that keeping a pen and paper on your nightstand is advantageous, considering that profound thoughts often surface when you wake up at 3 am?

Usually, these thoughts aren’t the most enjoyable; instead, they tend to be distressing and punitive. They may delve into the depths of your pain, anger, irrational fears, uncertainty about the future, and past regrets—a phenomenon commonly known as catastrophic thinking.

Tonight is no different however, I have decided to put pen to paper and journal my thoughts. How did I reach this point? Why haven’t I attained the position I imagined for myself at this stage of my life? What actions am I neglecting, or what aspects am I overlooking? Why do many young women perceive my lifestyle as ideal or something to aspire to?

Many young women watching from a distance might assume that I have everything figured out— a stable job, a cozy home, and some degree of financial independence. However, if they were to step into my shoes, they might be disappointed to find that the grass isn’t always greener on the other side.

Walk away when your heart feels unsettled

As a woman who has lived through much in my thirty years, I’m beginning to grasp the importance of some of social media highlights, sometimes without my conscious acknowledgment. Ideas such as boundaries, self-worth (having a heightened sense of one’s own value), self-care, asserting oneself by saying no when necessary, and mastering the art of walking away. It’s about simply moving on, Shiku, and breaking the bonds that tie you to a particular friend or family member without any regret or lingering sadness.

Every individual has their own boundaries—limits to how much they can tolerate being pushed, exploited, insulted, abused, or mistreated, or simply how much they’re willing to endure. It only takes a small spark of an issue to trigger these boundaries, leading them to unexpectedly erupt onto those around them.

Frequently, we fail to seize opportunities to assert ourselves, sacrificing our own interests to uphold relationships or maintain a “favorable” reputation with individuals we believe may support us in times of need. Prioritizing camaraderie with peers can overshadow important values like dignity, hard work, and perseverance

January 19th, 2022, my insomnia led me to contemplate a series of non-catastrophic questions, such as my current life situation, methods for personal development, the kind of company I should keep, activities that bring me joy beyond alcohol consumption, and how I manage my finances (essentially engaging in self-reflection). What matters most to me? Ultimately, I come to the realization that I alone hold the power to nurture my own happiness and to mend any broken pieces—it is solely and exclusively up to me.

What thoughts come to mind when you wake up at

Against all odds

At the start of a journey, there’s often an assumption that it will be smooth sailing, filled with rainbows and sunshine until the end. Rarely do we anticipate the unexpected bumps that lie ahead in the path.

With nothing but hope and a rolled-up hundred-dollar bill tucked into her pocket as her emergency fund for the journey, she left. Tears were shed at Logan Airport as she poured out her truth, hoping it would alter her destiny. Everything she once knew now felt like a distant memory, etched into the recesses of her mind with nothing ahead to anticipate. She had no idea where she was headed. Turning away and stepping into what would become a completely new world—her own home, her own family—she cast a final glance back, silently bidding farewell to everything familiar before boarding the plane.

8,521 miles away lay the place where this girl would gather all the fragments and reconstruct her life, rediscovering herself, unintentionally reshaping her identity on her own. In her eyes, nobody comprehended her, nobody showed concern, and nobody offered assistance. The harsh reality seemed to affirm this mindset once she arrived at JKIA at 10 pm on December 1st, 2005.

The reunion with her family proved to be fleeting, as she swiftly became a source of embarrassment to her parents. They had always prided themselves on having a daughter abroad, who they believed would one day elevate their status and bring great honor to the family. Yet there she stood, with only two suitcases, a hefty backpack containing all that she held dear and personal, and a pillow that had absorbed the tears shed during five years of solitary nights. She stood before her father, gazing into his bloodshot eyes, expecting a warm homecoming, a grand reception, but found none. She had nothing to offer—not even a smile or uplifting tales to share.

Two months passed, and with nothing but hope and determination, high school became the sanctuary for this girl. Defending her accent, she struggled to assert her voice as the new girl from a distant land now residing in the village. Navigating through peers who sought to diminish her, and humiliate her way of life, she found solace in love and empathy from others. It was in these meaningful friendships that her character was shaped.

The girl found herself on an emotional roller coaster at times, experiencing a sense of emptiness, rejection, or even betrayal from those around her. She faced an unpredictable and overwhelming transition, devoid of guidance and intensified by its suddenness. Despite the myriad challenges, she had to summon resilience, push through tears, and acknowledge that not all changes are comfortable, especially when they happened so abruptly and unexpectedly.

Maintaining a steadfast belief in her potential to defy the odds, unlike the discouraging statistics she encountered, she held onto hope, faith, and vision. She knew that one day she would emerge victorious, ready to share her story. With change often comes resistance, yet this girl was determined to prevail.

**Sometimes, trusting your gut, being courageous, betting on yourself, living according to your reasoning could be the opportunity that you give yourself.**

Adjustment disorder ( Stress Response Syndrome)

Google defines it as an emotional or behavioral reaction to a stressful event or change in a person’s life. A major life change can cause a short-term condition that happens when you have great difficulty in adjusting to new conditions or environments after a transition. Some of the visible syndromes might include:

Tearfulness (Sadness)
Feelings of hopelessness
Anxiety (nervousness)
Withdrawal or isolation from people and social activities
New and out-of-the-ordinary dangerous or destructive behavior, such as fighting, reckless driving, and vandalism
Abuse of alcohol and or other drugs
Loss of interest in work or activities, or life itself.

Adjustment disorder syndrome symptoms usually begin within the first 3 months and rarely last for more than 6 months. They could easily evolve to a full-blown depression if left untreated.

This girl defied all odds and decided not to play or try to act like the victim she certainly was, but to become a victor in every little way possible in her life. In short, she chose to SURVIVE, against all Odds.

Gone Too Soon, My Dear Friend

I must acknowledge that these times of COVID are truly impactful and unprecedented.

The pandemic has completely disrupted the world as we know it. Since it began in March, I’ve tried to tune out the noise, hoping that by ignoring it, the situation would improve. It’s like when I was a child and heard sounds outside my window. If I held my breath and stayed still, I could convince myself it was just my imagination and go back to sleep peacefully. But this time, my approach was way off base.

About a week ago, precisely on November 25th, I lost a cherished individual in my life to this battle. He possessed a beautiful heart, brimming with wisdom, vitality, and happiness. Despite occasional disagreements over the past year, typical of any friendship experiencing rough patches, I held onto the belief that once we reunited, all would be forgiven and we’d share laughter over a bottle of his favorite Glenfiddich Reserve 15 Years. But now, these are merely hopeful musings. Our shared moments—filled with laughter, gossiping about others’ mishaps, recounting disastrous dates, and even arguing—are now confined to memories. From lengthy phone conversations about scandalous stories to afternoon drives for lunch outside the city, to nights spent in the hottest clubs where he insisted on strategic seating to balance between feeling too old and wanting to remain trendy (and I can’t blame him, after all, sixty isn’t exactly young in any language). He always stood out, dressed in his luxurious linen shirts, ready to challenge any injustice. He taught me the importance of standing by my convictions, regardless of the consequences.

My beloved friend broadened my horizons to countless possibilities when I felt trapped in a limited perspective. He showed me that friendship transcends boundaries of size, shape, age, position, and status, often emerging from the most unexpected quarters. Whether through his intellect, lifestyle, professional standing, or the shared inside jokes that brought us joy, our connection puzzled others. Yet, it was uniquely ours, forged in mutual understanding and appreciation.

Today marks the moment of your final farewell, unfolding in real-time. While I sit behind my desk at work, I feel compelled to immortalize our bond in these words, lest I forget the warmth and companionship you unfailingly provided during our shared meals and drinks, whether at dawn or under the veil of night. Each moment spent in your company remains etched in my memory, cherished beyond measure. I count myself fortunate to have truly known you, to have reveled in the freedom of being my authentic self in your presence, save for those moments when you humorously nudged me to abandon my antics. Our times together, be they joyous or challenging, including the unforgettable night at Ole Sidai when your pink linen shirt and white khaki met their demise, are treasures I shall cling to for as long as life permits.

As I follow the procession, I come to realize that your essence wasn’t a facade put on for others; it was simply who you were at your core. Those who cherished and truly understood you recognized your unwavering commitment to your beliefs, your unfiltered honesty in every spoken word, and your willingness to go to great lengths for those close to your heart. You’ve left an indelible mark on many souls, and even in your absence, we continue to glean lessons from your life. Each person who paid tribute to you spoke of your impeccable sense of style and your penchant for dressing in the epitome of fashion—crisp, white linen pressed to perfection. There’s so much more to express, but time eludes us.

You continue to be a friend, to many. Go well My dear friend Bwana Kiarie.

Isa 41:10 So do not fear, do not be dismayed for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

We each possess a unique purpose in life. How are you striving to fulfill yours? What legacy will you leave behind when you’re gone? Will they speak of your kindness to your partners, your generosity toward your neighbors, and your readiness to help those in need? What will be said of you once you depart this earth?

From this moment forward, I aim to sow deliberate seeds in all that I do.

Spiritual Growth

For the longest time, I’ve yearned to draw closer to God, prioritizing prayer and fasting at the forefront of my mind. My high school days were marked by a deep spirituality, where I commenced each morning with prayer, dedicating the day to the Almighty. In the evening, I would reflect on the day, expressing gratitude and appreciation to Him, ensuring a peaceful night’s rest

Attending church and participating in worship every Sunday might have led you to label me as the “Miss Goody Two Shoes,” eager to be first in line to have my name read by Peter from the books of the deceased at the gates of heaven. Unlike my peers, whom I believed were destined for hell.

I attempted meditation in the renowned unfinished building conveniently situated behind 4S, the classroom where I spent 90% of my time in the institution—a period that would become one of the most significant in my lifetime. However, meditation always revealed that my past was too recent to seek divine assistance from God. My mind wandered to moments in my life where I vowed to make different choices, pondering questions like how I ended up in this situation, what was expected of me, and how I would pull myself out of it.
For me, prayer was reserved for moments when I needed God’s assistance. I found myself on my knees only when seeking provisions for my daily needs, the health and safety of my family, and divine protection and guidance. As time passed and I grew older, this practice became ingrained in me.

Adult me has come to understand that there are various motivations for prayer, including

Protection
To change a situation
To keep you in the will of God
To enhance your hope
Healing
Peace
Prayer is therapeutic
A way to communicate with God.

Once I discovered that I could simply kneel to say “thank you, Lord,” a transformation began. I found myself praying everywhere—while walking, eating, gazing out my window, and even showering—and gradually, revelations began to unfold
What kept me from prayers after high school?

I refrained from praying because I simply didn’t engage in it. This absence of prayer led to guilt, which in turn resulted in avoidance. As time passed without prayer, I felt unworthy to approach God because I had failed to uphold my promise of daily prayer and worship. It’s akin to a situation where your father forgives your mistake once, but when you repeat the same mistake and he remains silent.

*Never cease asking the father for what you want*

This often leads to a desire to pray, but I often find myself unsure of where to begin. I’m uncertain whether I should start by asking for forgiveness, expressing gratitude, making a prayer request, or confessing, among other possibilities. The options seem endless. I sometimes feel too sinful for God to want me in His presence, let alone listen to my requests or respond to them.

God doesn’t always respond immediately; His timing is His own. When prayers aren’t swiftly answered to my benefit as I desire, my patience wanes, leading to inconsistency. The absence of spiritual discipline allows laziness to overcome me, causing me to prioritize sleep over prayer until I have no time left for a morning with God.

What will I do differently to see my spiritual journey grow?

Examine my beliefs by being honest and intentional about my prayers and let the realization that I have been sleeping all along be felt and awakening is the result.
Explore new and different beliefs that differ from my own.
Set a time to speak to God.
Fast, pray, and worship
Walk in faith
Cut off anything and everything that is hindering me from this growth
Be disciplined.

Begs the questions…

What are you doing to be closer to your maker?
As much as you make requests, what are you willing to sacrifice?
How intentional, disciplined, and honest are u willing to be in this journey?

The ultimate secret to a fulfilled life

By now, we’ve all heard the adages: “Life is hard,” “Take the road less traveled,” and “There is a light at the end of every tunnel.” Yet, nobody provides us with bandages before thrusting us out into the tumultuous sea

There’s no warning about the spiteful monsters that lurked under our beds, ready not only to trip us but to take their time amputating both legs, regardless of our willpower and ambition. No one enlightens us about the absence of even one shoulder to lean on, let alone two, where warmth can be found during this lonely journey to an uncertain future that’s never guaranteed. Clinging to the sliver of hope that keeps us going, even when all seems lost, is all we can rely on to survive.

Nobody emphasizes the importance of occasionally taking a step back, laying low, and embracing a direction that may seem unorthodox to those who don’t share your perspective. Sometimes, it’s necessary to retreat into your own cocoon, reflect, and rejuvenate, emerging with renewed vigor, wider eyes, and thicker, stronger skin.

No one brings up the fact that this journey is solely a race against yourself, not against the world or in competition with it. Everyone has their own battles, far removed from yours. Each person possesses a secret weapon that propels them forward. Nothing, regardless of its zero-shilling price tag, comes without a cost. Wrongdoings, though scarce, are etched in people’s hearts indefinitely, unlike the countless selfless acts of kindness. Paths intersect, even across lifetimes, when least expected.

Secrets to a fulfilled life

Nurture gratitude and embrace positivity as your lifestyle.
Celebrate the small victories in life as you anticipate reaching the major milestones ahead.
Embrace imperfection and live in the present moment.
Remember your happiness before jumping on the bandwagon.
Forge meaningful connections with your family, friends, and acquaintances
Surround yourself with people that reflect who you want to be in terms of personal growth, career growth, financial growth, or any type of growth you searching to achieve.
Be of service to God and others through donations, feeding the less fortunate, mentoring,

Giving back to your community or lending a helping hand to the less fortunate has been proven to be the most fulfilling act in life. Once the realization comes to you that humanity is the key to empathy, fulfillment shall be birthed.

Think about it, being an African by birth, parents give their all to ensure that their children are educated. They put everything on the line to see their daughter or their son graduate and progress to a well-paying job. Inversely, the joy, fulfillment, and satisfaction that comes from the child giving back to his family is undeniably the most exuberating feeling one can have. The same satisfaction comes when a man or a woman is able and capable of providing for their families.

Once you realize that you are playing a finite game in an infinite universe, you realize you are granted permission to play the game of your liking. Search within yourself to find your passion, whether it’s as traditional as your great-grandmother’s or as contemporary as they come to enjoy each move you make.