PicsArt_1436495844454Getting older, I’ve come to realize that first, I am different. I mean very different. Everybody is different but accepting that you are different is the issue. Before now, I was easy going and life was easygoing for me. I had my life planned out. Like in that plan, I should have just had child number one. I guess I wasn’t living then. I felt I was. But life happened. Life happened a few days after I wrote my final papers. I was angry (good anger though, don’t even ask for the meaning). I was eager and curious for something. Nothing was enough all of a sudden.  It was then I began to realize that I wasn’t living. I was in a phase and that phase had ended. What was next?

Thankfully, I’m the last child. I have always been at ease with people older than I am and also got along with guys easier and faster than with girls. A few friends had a problem with this. ‘You like boys’ was what one of my university friends said to me with disdain one day. That was her conclusion. Till today, I still wonder if that was a bad thing.  Anyways, being around those people helped (and still is helping) me and shaped me to being who I am and who I intend to turn out to be. I became serious with life. My friends had problems with it. One said I was being uptight and too serious. (After all, we had written finals barley a week ago) I didn’t see any reason why I couldn’t. I couldn’t understand what she meant.  Were we not all supposed to ditch some way of life with the path we were leaving behind and adopt a new one? She didn’t understand me, neither did I.  So I began to look for something new. The search dwindled as my immediate environment didn’t provide any.

Fast forward to service year.

Service year for me is what I like to call, the year of the lost soul; the loss and homecoming.

Most of the time, during my service year I was lost. I was empty. Looking for something I could grab. I battled being depressed. I was sad most of the time. Love life was…well, I still can’t explain. Somehow, I found a way to channel these feelings I felt. I began to write. Again. This time, intensely. I marveled at the words I wrote. There were so many emotions in me. I wanted to let out. Most of the time, people misunderstood which was perfect for me. Writing again soon calmed my nerves, together with songs by ‘The Weeknd’ and a glass of vodka or spirits. (We all have our demons).

Service year was finally over. My excitement was overboard. I was just happy to be done with it.

I began it intern for a business consulting firm. I had worked there just before service as office assistant. I learnt some of the best values I was going to need later in life.

But still, somehow, I looked for something to match my being different. I was empty. I began talking to a doctor. In one of our conversations. I asked him,

‘Is it ok to want to start afresh. You know, to begin again’.

‘Yes’. He said.

‘Really’? I asked. He repeated his reply again. I was happy. Let me tell you why. You see, I was tired. Life was boring. Too many acquaintances. I was tired of everything mediocre, from people who wouldn’t add value, to people who wanted to frustrate the life out of you (I’m human, bullshit gets to me too) I was too nice. I was tired of being nice.

So I took my phone, and deleted my most active social media accounts. I made a resolution to have highly influential people on my contact list, Denzel isn’t there yet neither is Don Jazzy, but I needed people to push me. It was simple. If you weren’t going to be of value, we shouldn’t be talking in the first place.

You see, I realized later that I was going through a metamorphosis (I still am) when I began to feel different just after my finals. It had come too early but now that I look back, I feel it came late.

I decided to think. And I thought hard. It cost me a lot. But I’m happy I made that decision when I did. It took a while before I got back and when I did I was careful. I didn’t even have friends. I had what I like to call my associates. Young people who I saw were hardworking and focused at a certain young age I was yet to reach. It drove me crazy when I saw a young person living their dream. Well, almost living but had at least started. I would go nuts when saw another young person, being silly. I’m not going to define what I think is silly.


Making the decision to start afresh cannot be understood by everyone. My friends thought I was ‘proud’. I had always been to them. I think this was the height. You see, for me, I believe in a re-evaluation every now and then so you can keep track of your life. I’m happy I made the decision.  I have found my strengths and weaknesses.

Don’t get me wrong, I have my circle of friends, I can count them which I’m really proud of. They are a reminder of the person I was, the girl who had dreams, they are a connect to my present because that girl is putting her dreams in motion. That being said, I cannot stand mediocre. And I picked up my old habit of detaching easily. I read somewhere that you have no true friends between the ages of 18 and 25. I can’t but agree with that statement. I’m not a god or a deity, but the choices we make are our own doing. I choose who I want to become and determine who the associates I’d like to have around me.

Being a creative (I like to call all who in one way or the other do some form of art) sets me apart. Which is what I already am- different. A lot of people don’t get me. Which I totally understand. A former boss said my writings were ‘shitty’, I’ve had friends laugh at me when I asked them to read a piece but I look at other young people, not necessarily creative, find happiness in what they do. So why not me? I don’t have to be popular or famous but reading responses from people or knowing that people I do not know on Instagram would come across a poem and it would appeal to them and they would like. That is bliss.

I’m finding new ways of being a better version of me and also acquiring associates. I learn everyday but I have learnt, everybody cannot understand me, let alone like me. There’s a bigger version of my current life and I am different but more than that, every poem I write, every content I write, every word I think of is a part of my metamorphosis. What is your own?