Farewell 3.( To the previous me)

 I can’t remember how I looked like with long hair. Yesterday as I was passing in front of a mirror, I didn’t feel the need to look at myself, because I knew how I looked in the clothes I had worn. But as I peered into my face, I couldn’t think of me ever looking any different. Yet for over two decades, I looked the same. Its only now that I look different. 

And that’s the thing with the kind of change that is taking place nowadays. Its feels permanent. Like I’m becoming a new person who was always meant to be this person. Nothing on the outward is changing, yet everything on the inside is seen from a changed perspective. 

I read a well written piece two days ago. And that man’s words seemed to flow like a river that knows how to take all the right turns. The way his words followed each other had something sensual in them. Something seductive. And they kept on flowing and flowing. I love music and I don’t necessarily need to know the lyrics of a song to enjoy one. But his words were lyrical in a strange way. They caressed my eyes and soul. And for the first time in my life, I was able to enjoy a writing without wondering about the writer or his skills. I didn’t even know or care to know whether it was written by a man or a woman when I was reading it( but you always know Nigerian writing). And I enjoyed enjoying that piece of heaven. 

I laugh at silly things. For the longest time ever, I’ve always found that like a small ka-weakness. Until you don’t laugh for a while and you begin to appreciate the power of laughter. I have laughed a lot this week. Over serious things, lovely jokes but mostly silly stuff. And I have loved the happiness that flows inside a laughter. And I have learnt that laughter, sincere laughter, is easily , very easily a thing to stop doing. It only comes when you allow life to flow through you. And nothing to stick on the surfaces within you. 

As I look to the girl who came to campus four years ago, I see traces of the woman I am now. Her dreams are still intact, but the timing and the way to go about it has changed completely. The things she enjoys are now more pronounced. Her soul is a whole lot lighter. Her spirit is more of a fighter now than a gentle one. She let’s go easily now, and that’s a really big good thing to have happened. She is present now. And that matters when the only thing she knew to survive was to be absent. 

They say the only thing constant thing in life is change. And I think how you handle that change makes all the difference between a happy you and a tired you. Change is painful. At least in most times. It drains you of energy. It makes you question the chances of your survival. It makes you question your strength. Who you are and who you are becoming and who you will be. 

But if I was to write a letter to the 18yr old me. I would write nothing. I would let her wallow in change that she doesn’t understand. In pain that feels like it won’t leave her alive. In troubles that only her can understand. In worries that weigh her down. In fake smiles and hollow laughter. In doubt and confusion. In paths that leave her in places where she can’t see behind nor the future. 

Because that torturing pain is the process that led to the woman I am becoming. And I love this woman more than any human being. I love her so fiercely that I would gladly take a bullet for her, and willingly be the one holding the gun if only for her own good. 

A friend of mine looked shocked when I mentioned my ex/exes. She found it very weird that the woman she now sees once allowed herself such kind if frivolities. And inside I laughed along with her, because I also can’t seem to remember the me that took part in some of those things. And I seem to have many of those nowadays. Jokes with myself. Where I think of something and the inner me finds it very funny. And I think its cool. Being so cool that the inner you finds you humorous. 

And this is one of the happiest farewells. To the little uncurious girl that I was. To the sure science inventor that I thought I would be as a nine year old( I may not be an astronologist, but I did end up being a scientist, close enough? No?). To the numb teenegar I was. To the confused and depressed 18-21yr old. Fare thee well. You are the reason for the pure laughter I have enjoyed this week. And trust me, its been worth the trouble. 

And when He said, that all things will turn out for my own good, He meant it. 

1 Comment

  1. “As I look to the girl who came to campus four
    years ago… ”

    Which campus?


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