I turned 33 on Feb 7th 2013 and believe it or not, I was excited. Why? No reason, I just was. Doesn’t age come with wisdom? It helps too that when I turned 30, I made the decision to stop worrying so much about what the future holds and promised to forever celebrate and be thankful for every passing year.. I can’t say that I’ve kept that promise to the letter, but boy have I tried. If you were to ask me on a scale of 1-10 how well I’ve done, I’d probably give myself an 8.
What’s been different though (if I was to compare my pre-30 era to my post 30 era), is that where in the past I would seek a lot of opinions from all and sundry, be it about relationships, business, family, my faith, etc. In the recent past, any decisions that I have made, have relied solely on instinct and meditation/ prayer. I have sought advice from less people; these are people who love me and have my best interests at heart, or who for example, ‘have been there, done that’, and are more than willing to mentor me along my life’s journey.
So yes, I have used my instinct or maybe I should call it my gut feel, to make many important and life changing decisions.
Some of these have been very good decisions, like joining Rotary for example (something that continues to confirm to me that indeed my life counts for something); others not so much. Some decisions have resulted in Mr.-Bean-happy-tears; others, aweful, mind numbing pain, coupled with feelings of immense loss. And if you know me well enough, you know how much I hate to lose.
But it’s been a good ride overall.
A ride that has left me in full knowledge of the fact that given life’s opportunities (missed or otherwise), combined with my multiple bouts of insanity, God has been fair and just.
Where I made the right decisions, He blessed me beyond my wildest imaginations (I can’t thank Him enough). Where I made less than great ones, well He just left behind stark lessons that catapulted me right back to sanity.
But here is the thing and possibly the crux of my post. A decision I confess I have not even remotely managed well, is that of the dating game. For whatever reason, for the past three years this part of my life has been pretty much, a grey area. As such, I have wallked a really tight rope, never really letting go of the walking pole that has an, ‘I am single’ status, emblazoned across it. There have been times when I have managed to entertain the idea, but somehow, I either sabotaged it or created an opportunity for the other party to do so, giving me a good excuse to continue walking…
I will not delve into this now… My safe explanation being, ‘It’s complicated’..
Does this then mean that I have loved every single minute of being single?
Heh heh… I really want to shout ‘Absolutely YES!’ but I am reminded of the occassional moments, when I have felt lonely and missed having someone special tell me I am equally special (and all that gross, gooey lovey-dovey banter :-)). I am also reminded of the times I met and ‘fell for’ guys who I really liked and would have loved to date seriously, but after the first ‘exciting date’ -unfortunatley for me – didn’t ever hear again from them. So yes, being single has not always been my choice – even though, I like to make it sound like it always has been:-).
But have I been unhappy, single? ABSOLUTELY NOT! And this might sound defiant, considering the general unsaid consensus that because you are a single woman at a certain age (30+), ‘iko shida’; but it’s not.
Fact is, every other day, single women like me are going about their lives minding their own business and doing their bit to contribute to society. Patiently waiting for Mr Right, but living their lives regardless, confident that their turn will come.
But then, I come across comments being made on social media or in random conversation with random folks, heavily weighed down by below-the-belt-nuances, alluding that single women of a certain age are in fact single, because they are too agressive, or too headstrong, or too educated, or too Nyeri-like, or too scary, or too something. A comment that I think, kind of subtly borders on making single women out to appear like some sort of body defect.
And it’s not just the men making these negative comments, but the women too.
These pre-conceived perceptions are what have made me continue to walk the tight rope, with no apologies.
Case in point, I recently read a post on a pals FB wall that pointed out that the women who dress up nicely (I’m paraphrasing, I think the words used were ‘wear expensive brands’), are usually the loneliest. You can’t blame me for assuming the writer was referring specifically to single women (as married women are not in the general societal (african) context, necessarily considered lonely).
Equating loneliness to great dressing, really? I found this comment a tad bizarre, but one that took me back to a conversation I had with another good male friend, who enlightened me that due to my ‘headstrong’ nature, I would find it difficult to marry, as majority of men don’t appreciate women who talk back or speak their mind. I remember being openly taken aback by his statement. Actually I was stunned.
He finished off by saying: ‘Lilian you are ‘perfect marriage material’, save for that little thorn in many a man’s flesh, your independent (headstrong) mind’.
I know, I know, we still live in a highly partriarchal society, where women are only meant to be seen. But question – and this is a serious question – if you don’t fancy a woman with her own mind, who can contribute ideas that can help equally edify yours once in a while, then why educate her? Why not instead turn her into a barbie doll and place her in a barbie house, where she can cook and clean barbie clothes?
I don’t mean to be inconsiderate of people’s opinions, but Beyonce, Oprah, Sharon Sandberg, Wangari Maathai, etc., didn’t get to where they are being quiet or timid.. Nor does their agressive nature make them poor quality women. This women are impacting/ impacted the world in more ways than one.
But say, you argue that my impact on earth is incomparable to the above mentioned women; for crying out loud, you can’t ignore that my folks took me to school to give me a chance at a better life, than what they provided me. They spent hundreds of thousands, if not millions, to provide me with an opportunity to read and think; and then you ask me not to think, or is it, not to think out loud? If I can’t exercise this basic freedom, then aren’t their blood and tears wasted? And so what if I do, is it so bad? If I work hard to dress my body to look good; why does it always have to be perceived negatively or a show of disrespect for my male counterpart and then even used to label me and others like me, ‘defective’?
C’mon, don’t the boys realise that we not only dress up for ourselves and our egos, but for them too? For the human race to survive, we need men and women to get along.. and in this era of extreme visibility, single women are taking it up a notch; not to prove a point, but to at the very least, help to ensure that the human race endures.
I remember last year over Christmas, I was with some friends fraternising a local. And the waitresses on that day were dressed in sweater tops, tired looking lessos wrapped around their waists, topped with badly wrapped headscarfs. My immediate take was they looked like housegirls (no offence to anyone) and wondered why the club would make pretty looking girls dress up so badly. How were these girls to feel beautiful, dressed like that?But strangely, some men found the attire ‘sexy’ because it was so ‘village like’ and to make matters worse, some of the other patrons in the club, spent their evening making rude and cheap remarks at the girls.
I felt be-littled on their behalf. But at the same time it hit me.. This is actually what some of our grown, educated men want from their women. To say I was shocked is an understatement.
So if you ask me why I am still walking the tightrope that is singlehood, eeeh…
Added to the fact that I am who I am, it’s probably not yet the appointed time. And it’s my instinct or gut feel that reiterates this fact.
Of course, I like many single women out there do hope 2013 is the year we meet that tall, dark, handsome bloke (if he exists). But if it’s not, it’s not going to be because I am defective. It will be because God still has his use for me single. And we as singles, men and women alike, should be allowed to embrace it without fear or judgement. We should not fuss or worry, knowing that there is a plan. In good time and reason the chips will fall in place.
Nevertheless, where judgement is inevitable, we should walk tall and not buckle under the pressure to conform to assumedly societal standards. Yes, it’s hard to remain positive sometimes. Look at me, I have been told (again and again and again, by both men and women) that my ‘eggs will one day expire’ or I’m nearly reaching my ‘sell by date’ and soon I will no longer have a benchmark list for Mr. Right and will instead be knocking down their doors, ready to settle as as a second wife or ‘mpango wa kando’.
To these men (and women), I always respond by saying: ‘I am a woman of God, beautifully and wonderfully made (and that’s not a figure of speech). God does not err, nor does He expect me to settle for less than the best. He does however, expect that I trust He will deliver on His promises eventually, in His timing, no questions asked’.
But say, just say that indeed, things become sooooo thick that my eggs do expire. Aaaaah, a serious problem indeed.. Oh well, I guess I can always adopt.:-)
About Nothing But My Emotions 