The Unabridged Version of a Rational Emotional Mind

As I approach two years of marriage, a thought came to mind. You see, I have always been a woman of big dreams, not the ambitious kind, but the audacious ones; the kinds of dreams that people only dare to envision when they feel that the whole world is their oyster. But there is a fatal flaw in my approach. All I can do is dream! In my lifetime nearing three decades, I may have dreamt of so many things to do, places to be, people to meet! But I have never brought any of my big dreams to reality. Until…I met my husband. Every dreamer needs a doer, someone who can walk with them every step of the way and hold their hand as they try to reach for the stars. For me, that someone became my husband. Before I met him, I would come up with all the ways to make something happen but never take the first step. I would think of all the things I would get from doing something, but never find the motivation to step out of my comfort zone. But when a doer entered my life, things started to slowly ch...

If I ever lost my memory, who would I trust to bring it back to me? I saw this question online today, and it got me thinking. Would it be my parents, my partner, or my friends? Or would I look at my diaries, blog posts, and journal entries? I landed on someone, but obvious- someone who has seen every version of me and won't shy away from telling me things the way they were and not the way I construed them to be. Someone who remembers my childhood better than I do, someone who has seen me closely enough to know which parts of me are worth remembering and which can be left in the unknown. If you haven't guessed who the person is - it's my sister. We share the same blood and brain cells. I know she gets most of her personality from me (even though she might never admit it). She somehow managed to become a saner, more confident version of who I could be. And that's one reason I would trust her to restore my memory. Having a sibling to grow up with is probably the greatest b...

When I was young, I desperately wanted to be an adult. A decade ago, I became one, and what a glorious run it has been - the freedom, the autonomy, the ability to make my own choices! But now, I am tired. The responsibilities are slowly weighing on my shoulders. I don't want to be a child, go into my past - those were never my glory days. But I am also dreading my present, not because I don't have the things I always dreamt of, but because I do. When the fictional universe declared 'with great freedom comes great responsibility', I never realised what it meant, until now.  For the past two months, since the moment I turned twenty seven, a quiet demon has possessed me - I am sad, perpetually sad. Sad because I can't see a future beyond thirty. Sad because the world keeps screaming war at me. Sad because I can't decide if I want to bring new life into this seemingly horrible world. Where is hope? I somehow can't seem to find it. But here we are and this is lif...

I like the friends of my friends. The same-city friends of my long-distance bestie. The college friends of my school friends. The childhood friends of my adult friends. The guy friends of my girl friends and the girl friends of my guy friends.  I see the joy in their eyes when they talk about these people, some who were there before me and those who came after me. There is something magical about knowing that even if nothing else ties me to these people, we are united on one front - being there for our friend. The sense of camaraderie, joy and fulfillment I gain by knowing that someone else cares for someone I love in ways I can't, is inexplicable.  It makes me realize that I play a very specific role in each of my friends' lives and they in mine. Meaning - no one person can fulfill the other's every need - no matter what! While I can be a sounding board for my long-distance besties, I can't help them move flats, sitting miles away. With some friends, I can jam to all k...

Two hours before the year 2026 began, I was sitting at church, watching our achen urge the congregation to stand and share their witness stories for the year, and I stayed still, knees locked into place. Every New Year’s watch night service, I sit at church, and I let the voices in my head get the better of me “You can’t even speak in a singular language” “How will people understand if you yap in the colonial tongue?” “If you are witnessing only unto your God, you don’t need to get up!” But this year, I want to at least write my story down. So here is every way I felt my God’s presence in 2025 – In 2025, I was protected, as I travelled to seven different states (maybe eight – I lost count!), three within a span of twenty-one days. I turned a year older in grace. I got sick and got better. Lost a soul and grieved. Broke my bones and healed. 2025 for me was the year of rest and quiet resetting – of priorities, mind-set and loyalty. I found my people, lost a few, reconnected with peo...