I used to often laugh when my Pastor spoke about stingy men. He called them “AmaSkorokoro” in jest, advising us to run for our lives when we see snippets of scrooge-like tendencies. The premise was never focused on gold digging, but merely to teach us all how ladies should be treated and how crafty some men can be.
A lifetime ago some bloke tried “cute” things I considered paltry. I’d mention a residential area that I liked, he’d say he would want to RETIRE there, I’d talk about a career move and he’d brag about an offer he ONCE received. I bought myself two pairs of shoes- on sale- (one for an event and one for…. life) and he said the women he married would have no say in his finances.
I was deeply perplexed because this conversation was about my everyday life and preferences, yet he took it personally, as if I’d asked for his permission or help in ANY of these things.
Ebendibona mos ku Instagram? Endibona naku LinkedIN? (He saw my posts on LinkedIn and Instagram)
HELLO. HASHTAG. LEVELS!
“Friends, if you are in the standard grade class- stay and excel there. Leave HIGHER GRADE things to the boffins.”- Samkelwe Gqomo 2016
I didn’t want anything of his, I was just sharing. Also, he should’ve noticed my lifestyle and done the math. He was obviously looking for love in the wrong place.
Love is not based on someone’s beauty. Love is not about wearing the other person down. Love is not reducing someone’s standard. Love is not so selfish or limiting. Yes, love is not about money, but it is CERTAINLY not asking if the bread offered at a restaurant is FREE either.
“Can I get a table outside, with a view?”
I just want to listen to my thoughts. I want to observe and introspect without looking in a glass mirror. I want to get away from the worldly noise. I want to watch the birds fly over the magnificent, vast ocean and see how simple life and its ecosystems transpire around me. I want to savour the quiet moments where I don’t have to think of the next project, who to connect with, what’s for supper or the next beauty appointment. I just want time alone, with me.
“I’ll have the three course meal and Earl Grey tea.”
I wish to spoil myself, I deserve it. There are many things I can pat my back for, so I’m doing it over expensive cuisine. I shouldn’t wait for the next person to tell me to celebrate and live life. People are important but this moment of appreciation is just for me. I feel so calm, complete and happy.
Of course society won’t allow me to eat in peace. Her pathetic eyes are on me like a hawk and her pejorative murmurs louder than a construction site. What they see is someone with no love around or no family; a pretty picture that’s empty.
Ha! If only she knew! If she knew that my phone wouldn’t stop ringing with praise, if she knew how many invites I’ve had to reject, if she knew that I was tired of some fake smiles, if she knew how much chaos was all around, if only she knew. She would understand.
As my luck would have it, here comes a pompous Alpha, with his chest out and cologne clogging up my olfactory canal. In his head, he must be thinking that his presence will enhance my space rather than disrupt it. He tells me of my beauty, he asks if I’m expecting anyone. The shock, horror and sneaky sense of joy he gets when I tell him: “No.”
He invites himself to sit.
Didn’t he also come here alone? Doesn’t he want what I do? Does tranquillity mean anything to him? Does he know how much I have given up for this one moment?
I can’t have it ruined.
In a few hours, life and its constant whirlwind-like tendencies will take over. I have to decline because this beautiful occasion may not come again.
“I’m not lonely; I just want a table for one, please.”
“Girls are taught a lot of things growing up;
If a guy punches you he likes you
Never trim your own bangs,
Some day you will meet a wonderful guy and get your own happy ending.
blah blah blah
Every movie we see, every story we’re told, implores us to wait for it;
this third act twist, the unexpected declaration of love, the expectation rule etc.
But sometimes we’re so focused on finding our happy ending, we don’t learn how to read signs.
How to tell (the difference) the ones who want us from the ones who don’t, the ones who will stay and the ones who won’t.
And maybe this happy ending doesn’t include a wonderful guy.
Maybe it’s you on your own, picking up the pieces and starting over, freeing yourself up for the future.
Maybe the happy ending is this:
-Knowing that all the unreturned phone calls and broken hearts, through the blunders and misread signals, through all the pain and the embarrassment..
YOU NEVER… EVER…ever gave up HOPE.”
“How far have you walked for men
who’ve never held your feet in their laps?
How often have you bartered with bone,
only to sell yourself short?
Why do do you find the unavailable so alluring?
Where did it begin? What went wrong?
And who made you feel so worthless?
If they wanted you, wouldn’t they have chosen you?
All this time you were begging for love silently, thinking
they couldn’t hear you, but they smelt it on you.
You must have known they could taste the desperate on your skin.
And what about others that would do anything for you,
why did you make them love you
until they couldn’t stand it?
How are you both of these women, both flighty and needful?
Where did you learn this, to want what does not want you?
Where did you learn this, to leave those that want to stay?”
I like it.
I like it when you see me walk from the bus stop to my house
and you slow down your car so that you can watch my derriere.
I like it when you roll down your window
and peek your fathead out the window and call me over.
I like it when you call me babe.
After meeting me 2 hours ago.
I like it when we start chatting.
And I sleep at 3 in the morning and wake up with bags under my eyes.
I like it when you start calling me
And ask me how was my day on your way to fetch your girlfriend or your wife
I just like it.
But can I tell you what I love?
I love that as you treat me like you do,
I represent your mother, a child bearer, the woman who nurtures ALL of you.
I am the lady your father could have met a few years ago,
But would you be proud of the way he pursued?
I love that you value family
Respect, integrity and valour all the good things you seem to own
I love that one day you’ll have a daughter who will be your cornerstone.
I love that you’ll protect her from the Nasty boys that you are.
I love that she’ll go to college and you won’t be able to protect her from afar.
I love the way the wheel turns and she’ll feel what I felt for you.
I love the way her heart will shatter
And you tell her that “not all men are the same”
I love that you’re a hypocrite
And your child won’t be exempt of MY pain.