Letter 1 of 19

Dear 2019,

Our first encounter felt like a scene from a movie.

I got an opportunity to trade my routine of silent transitions for one of those yearly countdowns we often see in movies. I waited for your arrival with strangers from all walks of life at a countdown party. There was loud music, crowds of people all around me, a loud count down by all of us in unison, one of the biggest firework show I've seen and…well, almost everything that goes along with such countdowns. It was epic!

As epic as that was, I think my favourite memory of our first encounter was watching your first sunrise. I couldn’t wait to part ways with your sister, 2018. As a result, I felt like it was important for me to see your first sunrise just to make sure that she was gone. I needed to witness your beginning to cling onto hope that you were a new book, a new adventure and a new journey. I needed to have my Thomas moment and be present.

You have been such a roller coaster ride of extremes! When you began, I made my usual theme pact. I needed three things from to you: fireworks, gratitude and Isaiah 60:22. 2018 showed me so much flames that, this year, I was hoping to transform them into fireworks. I felt like I needed to work on my gratitude this year and not take things for granted. Lastly, I had to allow myself to be grounded in the knowledge that God’s timing was best. Year themes normally help me in all areas of my life. The way things went this year, it was as if every challenge which came mocked these goals and ambitions.

2019, I asked for fireworks and you sent flames. My health was at its worst in years. Looking back, I wasn’t always grateful for a lot of things in my life. I also found myself frustrated with the alignment of my dreams. On the other hand, however, you have been kind. I have jumped hurdles and seen fireworks. I believe my gratitude meter was at its highest this year. As for alignment, let’s just say that I understand why they say that Rome wasn’t built in built in one day. Or one year in my case.

Through you, 2019, life has schooled me so much about self-care and self-love, being unapologetic about boundaries and understanding my triggers. You’ve helped me locate the courage to get out of bed on days when I questioned my existence. You’ve taught me to allow joy to simmer, to hold onto hope and to allow myself to accept compliments. I've faced some of my worst fears this past year. I’ve navigated my most challenging days being equally my most happiest. I’ve laughed till I lost breath and I equally realised that I’ve forgotten how to cry. We’ve got the rest of this series to unpack all of this.

To be honest,  I can’t wait for you to come to an end. I’ve just realised that, for some reason, writing these letters to you brings back a very unpleasant childhood memory. You know when a bully gives you the “after school is after school” threat? Yeep. Writing to you feels exactly like that. I’m dreading looking back to parts of my body where you’ve punched. My poor knees are already shaking as I think back to times when they had to carry my entire body while I faced you. My mind is also racing back to all the pleas I’ve made for the earth to open up and
swallow me. I’m still astonished at how my chest managed to keep my heart inside despite multiple times when I thought it would burst. You’ve been tough 2019!

I will face you though. I’ll toughen up. I'll keep my knees steady and yell “yeah, after school” back at you.  I'll  do this while I continue to contemplate how I'll tell you how much of a hot mess you’ve been…

Thinking out loud

Have you ever wished that you could do a time jump and have conversations with versions of yourself?

Growing up, for as long as I can remember, my younger sister and I used to aspire to be a certain age. That golden age was 27. We’re South African so, our main reason for this was how these years were a symbol of freedom and liberation. Anyone who has heard about Nelson Mandela’s journey knows the significance of these years. I think I’ve mentioned in an earlier post how strict our parents were and how we always used to view our house as our very own version of Robben Island. The journey to 27 would then, ultimately, symbolise the long walk to freedom.

On my birthday last year, I decided that I would like to step into this golden age uniquely. So I began writing little notes to myself on the 11th of each month and shared them with images of myself on Instagram. These ranged from reflections, quotations and even lyrics from songs. Anything that I felt resonated with a conversation that I needed to have with myself and, most importantly, an important lesson which I feel like the universe has been trying to teach me.

As I step into a new cycle I’ve decided that the perfect gift to myself would be a time jump conversation with different versions of myself. Thinking out loud is a compilation of 12 conversations I’ve had with the little girl I used to be, who I am now and the woman I am aspiring to become…

September: The hardest apology I’ve ever made was to you

Apologising to someone you’ve wronged is not the easiest thing to do. It’s never the admission of guilt that gets to me. It’s the realisation that I have disappointed to act in a way which respects the other person. That and hoping that the person may find it in their heart to forgive me.

It hit me the other day that I had never really, at any point in my life, apologised to myself. Yes, I’ve encouraged myself and picked myself up from disappointments but while taking responsibility for my actions, I had never sat down and apologised to myself. This made me aware of all the times I had let myself down in any way.

Dear Linda, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for thinking you’re not enough, for ignoring you and for not believing in you when you needed me to.

October: They were right. You’re not perfect. You have a pile of imperfections, shortcomings and scars. Embrace them

We all seek validation and affirmation at some point, right? What we tend to overlook, when we’re doing this, is that we are enough. We are enough just as we are and at the end of the day, that is all that matters.

Homegirl, you’ve had your fair share of validation seeking streaks! If I didn’t know better I’d say that you’ve experienced the worst case of this, this past year or so. This is an area of yourself which you need to work on daily. Accept what the world says, yes. It is justified. Don’t let the scales define who you are or ever make you shy of your scars.

Dear me, You. Are. Enough!

November: I had forgotten that I’m your biggest fan

I don’t remember when you lost sight of this. I’ve tried to pinpoint to the exact time but I can’t. I’m pretty sure it’s when you started feeling like you were not good enough for some friendships, when you were hit with those “we regret to inform you” jabs or when your body was under constant surveillance for being “less”. I don’t know. Somewhere along the line, you lost sight of this and you still do from time to time.

Dear you, I like your big eyes, how your gums show when you’re smiling, your big heart and how you live for something bigger than yourself!

December: “Your story is what you have, what you will always have. It is something to own.” – Michelle Obama

Becoming is by far one of the most interesting pieces of literature you’ve read. It’s one of your favourite gifts and it couldn’t have arrived at a better time. It has helped to ground you in your own identity in so many ways.

Dear Linda, you are a work in progress…

January: You are becoming her each and every day. Be patient with who she was. Be present with who she is.

You have this weird habit of being in a rush and being impatient with yourself. You second guess things you’ve done and you become fixated with “perfection”. Stop it!

Dear me, don’t be stuck in what has come and in what is to come…

February: Bless the day you inserted “self-love” everywhere you read “love” on 1 Corinthians 13

You are selfless to a fault. It’s one of your greatest attributes. Sometimes though, maybe more often than you would like to admit, you even forget to put yourself first. I guess this has led to a lot of people not being aware that you have boundaries. It’s okay though. You’re learning how your relationship with yourself is so important. You take time out when you need to now. Well done!

Dear Linda, self-love is a verb!

March: People who don’t know you think that you’re an extrovert. Those who do know you are aware that you’re an introvert. You’re just grateful for that smile that helps you navigate both worlds

This is a hilarious one. Many people around me are not aware that you’re an ambivert. You’re more of an introvert than you are an extrovert. Each time you have to speak in public, there is a long process behind the scenes that gears you up. It’s funny how most people do not think this is true.

Dear you, never forget to smile!

April: You know the “parts” of yourself which you’ve been rejecting? They’re becoming the cornerstone of your identity

There are parts of you which you’ve hidden from the world for so long. Maybe because you do not want to be seen as a weirdo or a weakling. I don’t know. I find you opening up more these days. I hear you tell others how you survived, how you’re not well and how you’re scared.

I’ve noticed how unapologetic you’re becoming about your boundaries. I see how you’re slowly accepting that some spaces will never accept you for you. I admire how you’re refusing to be affected by other people’s actions. Resistance isn’t violent!

Dear me, continue healing. May others find healing through your scars.

May: “Your love is bright as ever. Even in the shadows…” – XO, Beyoncé 

I don’t mean to brag but I am sure that you are one of the most loving people I’ve ever come across. You’re kind, caring and you always wish well for others. I don’t get how you do this but I am grateful for this trait. You bring warmth, love and support in every room that you enter. You see the very best in people. You pray over their lives and are invested in their wellbeing.

You do this even on days when things are not good on your side. You do this even when getting out of bed was the bravest thing you did on the day. You give hope even on days when your light is dim…

Dear Linda, do not let this wicked world change you…

June: “We live for the weekend working up the courage…” – Prince Kaybee – Fetch your life ft. Msaki

This has got nothing to do with the fact that your favourite days of the week are Friday and Sunday, lol. There are times when you feel an intense feeling that you are not living in alignment with your dreams. When you question the will of God over your life.

What you’re losing sight of during these times, is living in obedience. The laws which govern your life are far greater than your short-sightedness. You are exactly where you need to be.

Dear me, be someone who’s living...

July: Que sera sera 

You’ve never been a fan of surprises. You want to know and you do get to know. You know a lot. Even things people don’t think that you do, you know. Sometimes I wish you’d stop and allow yourself to be surprised once in a while.

I also wish you could learn to take shock with a pinch of salt. The big bad wolves in your world look nothing like the ones in Little Red Riding Hood's world. This doesn't mean that they are less dangerous though. Be careful baby girl!

Dear Linda, God knows better...what will happen will happen!

August: #Freedom

Remember the scene from Sarafina when they sang “freedom is coming tomorrow!” ?Freedom is now. Embrace it as you step into this golden age.

It’s not what you and your sister imagined it would be. Nope. It’s none of that. Funny enough, you’re beginning to understand the laws which govern Robben Island more and more. You’re so grateful for the foundation and the warmth of the love. Also, you don’t feel old at all…

Linda, Happy birthday to you!

Halfway through Twenty-Roller Coaster

When I revived this blog last year, with the 18 letters to 2018, the plan was to be consistent. That, unfortunately, hasn’t been the case this year. So I begin this post with an act of contrition: O dear readers, forgive me for my absence. It has been a roller coaster of a year!

I recently visited an amusement park with friends. When we stepped in there we had a couple of goals: have fun, remember to capture the memories, eat as much as you can and get on as many scary rides as possible. Sounds about right, right? The beginning of the year reminds me of this phenomenon. You plan to hop on to as many “scary rides”, tick off boxes and survive. No matter how much planning goes into it though, nothing prepares you for the roller coaster experience. Nothing prepares you for those few minutes, which feel like an eternity, when acceleration and gravity are interacting in interesting ways.

This year has felt like a roller coaster. It didn't usher in smoothly. The most frightening part of the ride has been health. My health woes creeped in just as the year was taking off. This slowed me down a bit...literally and figuratively. I’m not sure how it’s like in other communities but in mine you don't qualify as sick if you don't look like you are on the verge of meeting your ancestors. Nope. You need to have lost drastic weight, have your hair fall off or other explicit exterior. Basically if your exterior is good, then whatever it is that is bothering you on the inside is not big. This is an unspoken declaration in the village. I don't know who came up with these measuring techniques but this has been the case for as long as I can remember. As you would have it, I fell short of qualifying to look sick. I’m already a size 4 or size 6 on good / swollen days, the dreadlocks have grown longer and everything looks normal on the outside. So almost every declaration of my ill health is met with “aw'bonakali tu” which loosely translated to you don't show at all.

Juggling work and keeping up with the health has kept me occupied so much that it feels like I blinked, and then we were halfway through the year. Already?! How?

Six months down. Six more to go.

I think I mentioned in an earlier post that I’m not big on resolutions. Instead of jotting down things I'll do differently, I set a theme. The theme has three things : how I’d like to have fun, which virtue to nurture and a scripture which anchors me. My 2019 theme is fireworks, gratitude and Isaiah 60:22. While themes are not as stereotypical or limiting as resolutions, they have a similarity to some extent: they disappear. They disappear when you need them the most.

My health doesn’t show me fireworks, it sends flames. On days when I felt drained and in pain gratitude is the last thing on my mind. As for timing, I think my immune systems has a talent of picking the worst times to act out. During all these downs, however, the universe comes through in unimaginable ways and makes things work.

I see fireworks every time my extrovert side wins the battles over introvert me who is not a fan of public speaking. I find myself being grateful for so many things that I have overlooked before, this including my self-worth and self-love. God is still working on my impatient self.

My friends and I had a blast at the amusement park. We screamed our lungs out, enjoyed the food and remembered to capture the memories. No, we didn’t go on all the “scary rides" as planned. Did we chicken out last minutes? Well, I can’t exactly confirm that. What I can confirm though is that I guess the strategy for the next six months is to stick to the theme for 2019 and allow Twenty-Roller Coaster to roll out as she pleases...

To Dinomore

Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you butchered lyrics to a song countless times before actually getting the right version?  Those close to me know I get to do this from time to time.

One such song that I've butchered belongs to the Giddens Sisters and is titled I'm going home to die no more. In my defence, I should say, I was very young when I first heard this song. I was young and I had no idea what "death" was. So how did your girl sing it? I'm going home to Dinomore. Yeeep. To me Dinomore was a person.

Today, many moons later I find myself in a community hall singing along to this song. Correct lyrics this time around. That and being conscious of the context of the lyrics.
What sucks about songs at a funeral is their heart  piercing and trauma triggering effect. The words and the tunes do not just move your body but they reach your soul.

My great grandparents planted eight oak trees as a symbol of their union. Two sons and six daughters. I refer to them as oak trees because of their values and everything they stand for. My family and I are standing face to face with death today because one of the oak trees has fallen...

My heritage stems from one of the sister oak trees - my maternal grandmother. She and her siblings kept their roots merged and raised their offspring that way.

I've had the most interesting conversations with this oak tree that has fallen. She was such an interesting grandmother. Yes, i say grandmother.

My grandmother has been obsessed about my weight, concerned about my health woes and curious about my love life too. Above it all, she's been excited about my success and showed love at all times. The love that is gentle and validating. Not only to me but to all my other cousins. Oh, what a gentle heart!

You were full of drama and sense of humour too. I won't forget the day you boasted to one of your friends about me. "Can you see who she is," you asked. Your friend looked at me searching her mind. "...she's Ntemi's daughter. She's an entire journalist". Your friend, in shock, asked how I manage to interview the likes of politicians I won't mention. At this point I was torn between cracking up so hard and wishing that the earth could swallow me. Deep down I was happy that you were proud of who and what I had become.

Farewell Gogo. Farewell even to the other trees that have fallen before you. Go home. Go home to die no more...