My story is about a woman I met on February 23rd 2015.She weighed about 40 something Kgs,you could literally count her ribs, she looked really bad, really bad! She is me…not this me…that me who was hopeless, homeless and broken. You’ve seen me as you took your kids to school, or hanged out with your friends in the night lounges, you have talked about me, yes you have. The thing is, I was a love addict, and my drug was the man I was seeing at that point. My entire life revolved around him.

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I was the type of chic who depended on my man for validation. You know how we say it, the love of my life, my world, you are everything I have, I will die if I lose you! Yes that was my situation in love; I meant all of those words! If he was happy I was happy, if he was sick I was sick. I lost all of me trying to be all of him and that is why when our relationship couldn’t stand the test of time, I had nothing to turn back to. The day it ended, I was thrown out to the streets and even the gateman who would always call me madam couldn’t see me as the woman who helped him countless times with his family issues back in his village. I was desolate and barren, I couldn’t see myself being worthy of anything because the humiliation got the better part of me.

During my stay with this man I had lost touch with my family and friends as I was busy playing the good wife. I quit my job as my man ordered and gained a luxurious title of being the house manager. How then do I show up into people’s life and continue from where I stopped? How embarrassing! How do you come up when everything you have ever known crumbles down? My greatest fear had been realized and there was no guideline as to how I would recover from this. The thought of even calling my family or friends to my aid was bizarre, because if you come from an African background as I do. You will be aware that our society lives in the delight of other people’s pain and suffering. According to me, the urge to celebrate one’s misfortune comes from a weighing scale of giving “those” people comfort into not dealing with the reality of their own lives. Well back to me!

This preposterous situation made me aware of the danger of a single story. Women have a tendency of sacrificing everything for everyone else, be it their spouses or children. We stop living in order to ensure that our family is ok, and that our men achieve their goals. What about us? Who are we? Being the nurturing kind, we should never forget that when everything else fails us, it is who we are that saves us. I mean look at me, the me then. Everything about my life was tied to one single being who was only human and very imperfect, and when he failed me, there was nothing else to hold onto. That child you are holding onto as the one who makes you alive, will one day live you to start their own home, what will you do when they leave? What would be your story? Maybe they may never live up to your expectations. Will you kill yourself?

What I know now that I wish I knew then, is that everyone needs to live their purpose driven life everything else is an addition, your husband, your wife, your kids, your career .They are here to make it better for you not as the foundation of your best life! Live your life being so engaged and building you because your best life is the rent you pay for being here on earth!

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