Floating in a river of change
I was going to title this “learning to change” but decided I'd write first, then worry about titles later.
The twenties. I think it's that time in life when everything seems to be going too fast, and the weight of expectations feel like a snake coiled around your neck. Graduate with a good degree, get a job, make money, go to the gym, get a wife…
Have you ever had a wave crash into you whilst trying to keep your head above water? This is what I'd imagine it feels like. You know the worst part? It gets worse. I haven't even started paying rent yet!
I realise that there is now such a big gap between me and the child I saw in the mirror some 6, maybe 7 years ago. That boy had dreams. You see, he wanted to be a vet because he loved animals. He settled for architecture, because he loved drawing just as much. He dropped out in his third year and now i, am a third year biochemistry undergraduate, who has no idea what to do with his degree but nevertheless, just wants to graduate.
It's Christmas. The season of love and giving, and fireworks, and food...and washing dishes. Coming not far behind, is the new year and like many others, I've been thinking about what this year has been for me. I can't say there hasn't been good memories when I finally got a job this year, and I met my cousin, Eniola, who I feel in love with, my uncle Shola, who's been a strong piller and support for me, new friends like Biobele and Riri...there is much to be thankful for but that I am alive, doesn't mean I did not bleed.
I lost close friends in ways I didn't think I would. For months I've had to pick up pieces of my heart, asking myself 'why' over and over again. I grieve the old me. I'm drifting on the river of change, and I feel lost. I'm staring at the old me, a lone island, and I know I will probably never love like that again.
“What doesn't kill you makes you stronger”. Arguably the biggest lie our ancestors left us. What doesn't kill you leaves you scarred and broken. But there is healing, and that, is what makes us stronger. Perhaps, I will find my healing eventually. Perhaps, I will love again. Perhaps, someday, I will look back in quiet acceptance of every wound I have received, and how it shaped me. For now though, my siblings are at the dining room, laughing and eating. I will go and sit there, and try to scam my brother into giving me his fish.
We thank God for the gift of food, even during trying times.
Complements of the season to you.
