Today I bumped into one of my friends. I’m talking about the friends you spot then the first thing you say to yourself is, Oh Crap! Days when you’re not in the mood to tolerate them you just make up excuses like My cat just died, I need to rush home; Our cow just gave birth, I need to go help out or My dog has just been diagnosed with cholera, I need to be with it during this difficult time. I’m sure you’re expecting me to say I bolted-being honest, I almost did. It was in a supermarket and unfortunately, the devil had told me to act like a slay queen and push a trolley instead of using a manageable shopping basket. As my friend Lisa, walked towards me, one thing kept ringing in my head, “Daisy, play it cool.” I did play it cool.
“Hey girl, how have you been? I’ve missed you. Oh my, I really love your hair, looks nice but also makes you look gay,” she said
“Hey (Hugging her the way Delilah did on the night she betrayed Samson) I’m good. I’ve missed you too. I really love your lipstick color,” I responded
“Thank you, babe. My boyfriend loves it. He’s actually coming to visit me. I hope I look fine,” she goes
“Oh sugar, you look like fine wine. Were I him, I’d marry you today,”
(She giggles) “It’s been a while since I heard from you. Did you quit blogging? By the way, I thought you decided to get yourself a sponsor like all the ladies our age. Pretty funny, right?”
“Yea, very funny,”
“Honestly Daisy, what’s the deal with you? No sponsor, no pictures of your boyfriend on any social media site. No nothing. I have a feeling you might be having issues with your sexual identity and you’re afraid of people judging you. If that’s the case you can talk to me.”
At this point, two important things are ringing in my head; how much weight is given to murder cases by our Kenyan courts? If I run out screaming ‘thief’ pointing at her, how crazy will I look? I know, pretty dumb and desperate. However, desperate times call for desperate measures and desperate measures call for desperate or crazy ideas. I cut her short. “Want to help me?” She quickly says yes. Quite unexpected but then, the sooner I get to finish doing my shopping, the sooner I get to say “BYE”. We continue shopping. Surprise number one, she doesn’t offer to help me push my trolley or pick the things on my list. Surprise number two, she was not intending to buy anything. Meaning, she spotted me and decided to make my day a living nightmare. Can’t Trump come to Kenya and deport such people?
Lisa yapped about this and that drawing people’s attention making me uncomfortable. Maybe I should have walked away and left her talking to herself or maybe I should have been honest at the beginning of the conversation. The smile I used together with the exaggerated hi were my mistakes. They made her assume I was comfortable; that I liked the way she behaved and talked. Did I?
Ever questioned why we end up tolerating people who make us feel uncomfortable and unhappy? There’s someone reading this and dislikes the way her best friend’s boyfriend treats her best-friend. There’s a guy that dislikes the way his girl tries to impress his friends. There’s a mom that dislikes how her husband treats her son. There’s a student that dislikes using drugs like her classmates. There’s a doctor that dislikes how his nurse wears tiny dresses around the office. There’s a man that dislikes how his boss never appreciates his work. There’s a girlfriend that dislikes the way her boyfriend chews and talks dirty. There’s a man that is so fed up with his girlfriend that he keeps cheating. There’s a guy madly in love with his best-friend but is scared to say it. There’s a brother so disappointed with how his sister dresses around guests. There’s a wife so tired of the way her husband addresses her in front of his friends.
We fake many things; our dressing, our words, our expressions, our emotions, our actions, our lifestyle and orgasms. How many times do we speak up? Instead, we choose to remain stuck. We try to make peace with the sources of our discomforts. In time our discomforts become our new normal. We forget that they will always be coated discomforts. We have grown to accept that we shouldn’t communicate how we really feel; we shouldn’t be our true selves. Instead, we should communicate what others expect us to; be what the world expects us to be.
We stood in line. I listened. No, I pretended to listen. Then Barrack’s slogan rang in my head. Only this time it stated, “Yes I can.” I turned to her ready to say, “I’m fed up. Fed up with your fake personality. Fed up with your thirst for attention. I really hate how you’re always up my business. I am uninterested in some of the private things that go on in your life. First, you aren’t honest with yourself. Second, you fail to respect boundaries. I do not want to change you so please, stop trying so hard. Others will understand you; I can’t.” All of a sudden her phone rang making me realize that I was gawking at her reciting the words with my head instead of saying them to her. “I have to go. My man just arrived. We’ll talk later. Bye muffin,” she says walking away. I feel less burdened. Then it hits me. There will be next time. A next time where I’ll still have to pretend I’m concerned. Well, maybe next time I won’t blow my chance. Maybe I’ll grow some balls and say what’s on my mind.
Making my way out of the supermarket, I recall her question ‘Why did you stop writing?’ Did I stop writing? I did not. I just took a break. The breaks we take to figure ourselves out. To find out why we are dedicating our time and energy to something.
-My sincerest apologies to my loyal readers for having kept you waiting. I’d like to believe the wait was worth it. All in all, I’m back.