BECOMING

This is my truth in the most unfiltered way. 

You might call it survival, but I call it BECOMING.

Some absence shapes us more than presence could ever.

Miracles. 

I believe in the unusual. I believe in God. My entire existence, right from birth till now, is a miracle. 

So, I randomly say I am a living miracle. Because that’s exactly what I am. 

In my prayers to God, I sometimes get lost.

If I were asked to share something that God has done for me and has left me in awe of His Glory, 365 days won’t suffice.

Path.

Years later, for the first time ever, I can say, I am proud of how far I've come. 

The journey has not been smooth but one thing for sure? I’ll keep going for as long as I can. 

Chances.

I’ve been hurt. Multiple times by my persons. 

I try for people, too. Gave more chances than they deserved, held on even when it hurt. 

But this one time, I couldn't give a second chance. 

Not because I knew 'never to say never'.

I’ve done a lot of self-reflection over the past few months, and while I take my own share of blame, I realise that we are all just human beings living our first lives and should be given second, third, and sometimes, fourth chances. 

Life is unpredictable. 

You book a flight, and it never lands. 

You visit the hospital, and you never walk out. 

You attend a party, and it turns into chaos. 

You sleep at night, and that's Rest in Peace. 

In only one second, everything changes.

This is me loving harder and forgiving faster.

Breathe

In the middle of the night, just before I crash, I reach for my phone to text you. 

Then my hand freezes over it, I remember, the version of you that existed was only a map to a destination I’ll never arrive.

So, I lay in bed, staring into the dark with my phone by my side, taken aback by the peculiarities of life. 🤍

Do we have spirit animals?🤔

Sometimes, love demands to be left. Like it did with me. 

If you ask me if I am looking for love, I'll tell you no. 

Love is for those who have finished eating, and I still have my plates full.

At the same time, I am experiencing enough love from my family and friends. Love resides here.

I’ve become too familiar with silence.

Ina (Light)

Last year, in one of my classes, we were asked to write about our greatest fear in life. 

I didn’t write death; I’ve had firsthand experiences with it. 

I didn’t write sickness; I’ve been that close. 

I didn’t write poverty; God will supply all my needs according to His riches in Glory. 

Instead, I wrote “To be ordinary.” 

I woke up at midnight few weeks ago and the fear crippled in, again. 

I don’t want to live an ordinary life. I want to live a spontaneous life. 

I want to get a degree in a course I enjoy. 

I want to work in a field that inspires me. 

I want to ride the train at 8:00am to another city and return by 4:00pm. 

I want to order coffee and dump it halfway because it was too bitter. 

I want to plan great trips and birthdays for my friends. 

I want to attend lots of weddings and feel the joy of couples. 

I want to listen to my friends tell me about their partners while I fawn and bless their souls. 

I want to travel to countries and try new dishes despite my sensitive stomach. 

I want to speak French fluently. 

I want to experience Greek culture in person. 

I want too many things to settle for an ordinary life.  

Shades of different colours. 

It's been grey for quite a while. 

I don’t have everything entirely figured out, just yet. Perhaps, I never will. 

Maybe because life is not meant for me to figure out, but to live through it, and that I am learning to do. 

DOLOR

And on nights like this, I stay up watching the sky get lighter. 

Listening to crickets and whispers of the breeze. I try to pick up your voice. Slowly, I forget what you sound like. 

On some days, I stare hard at your pictures to keep your face etched in my memories. 

I hold the last of your fabric to my nose and hope to get a last whiff of you. 

And most times, it feels like you are fading.

Like a stab to your heart with so much bleeding, but the knife remains in place...It feels urgent, like they should get the knife out, but you know that will destroy you…on the other hand, you know the longer the knife stays in, the harder the pain hits and the dangerous it gets. 

People brush by. They try to help. In their own way. 

They twist the knife, and after unsuccessful attempts, they walk away. 

Some come, they try to stop the bleeding, but they walk away too, leaving a lot more trail of blood following them. 

And just a few, only a person or two, come along and hold your hands. They directly relate to the pain. So, they hold your hands while you bleed together. 

Your pains are different, so you just hold each other's hands, bleed, but don't acknowledge it. 

That’s what it feels like, for me. An unending cycle.

And for a minute or more, I feel a lot less numb. 

What do you do when you're fading, like summer leaving for the winter to come? 

AMOR

I am in love.

I am in love with this version of me. The me who has priorities, the me who walks away from what no longer serves her, the me who is protecting her inner child, the me who guards her heart diligently, the me who take actions, the me who spends a weekend in bed binge-watching series, the me who laughs at a good meme, the me who sits in silence, the me who procrastinate knowing she’d suffer for it later, the me who makes big girl decisions.

I am in love, with, all of me.

This is the woman I am becoming.