Skip to main content

Being myself


A friend sent me a link to a video of Madonna’s acceptance speech for the Woman of the Year, in the Billboard Women in Music Awards 2016.

In life she says, there is no real safety, except self belief.  Coupled to this is an understanding that she is not the owner of any of her talents, she is not the owner of anything for everything she has, is a gift from God.  And that the f’d up things that happen to her, are also gifts, to teach her lessons and make her stronger.  I liked that.  A lot.  Because I have come to a realisation, belief and total acceptance of my own gifts and their formation and use is also a gift from My God, purposed by Him.

She is vulnerable, nearly breaks downs as she speaks, about how hard it has been to be her.  To be Madonna.  Controversial. A daring woman, a bad feminist. 

She is thankful for the resistance of the doubters, the naysayers, everyone who gave her hell – everyone who said she could not, that she would not, that she must not - for it made her stronger, made her push harder, made her the fighter she is today.  I liked that too.  Because I have been receiving a large enough amount of censor recently.  About being myself.

Being myself.

I have been told I am too much.  Too this.  Too that. That I care too much.  That I should just let things be, let them slide, not care.  Stop caring.

That it doesn't have to mater that people have different faces, half truths and different truths at different times.  That they show or not show, tell or not tell.  That people can come and go, disappear and reappear in my space, as they wish and as they want.  I should just let things be, I should just let people be.

I've been manipulated, misunderstood, misquoted. 

I have made mistakes, not done what I should have, done what I should not have.  I have been rebuked and chastised.  I have paid some prices, and I’m probably waiting on some bills still to be presented.

All from being myself.

The message, has been so oft repeated in the last few months – that it does get you wondering.  Who am I?  What am I?  Whom should I be?  What should I be?

Yesterday. Today.  Now.  Tomorrow.

Its complicated ainit?  And a process. 

Being myself.

Image from https://www.pinterest.com/explore/fearfully-wonderfully-made/



Labels:

Comments

  1. Ruth6 April 2017 at 19:08

    I think being yourself is the hardest thing to do. Acknowledging the bad and working on it is especially a real struggle. I'm not sure I even want to be myself sometimes, because I think being myself isn't even good enough. Nice read... you got me thinking

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Most viewed

What Madam requires

https://www.vectorstock.com I work as a domestic for my Madam.  I look after Madam’s big family and her big house.  I tend to Madams big garden and her big cars.  For Madam – everything must be big.  She herself is big.  She is also big on ambition – both professionally and domestically.  Which is where I come in. Today I had a review with my Madam.  And she reminded me of her expectations and requirements regarding my performance.  Some requirements were new, some she was just recapping.  In my own words and in no particular order let me tell you what my Madam expects.    My Madam requires;  I am all-knowing.  I must know everything that happened during my watch - where the bumps on the children came from and where her yellow, blue and green scarf is.  She wore it yesterday and left it in the laundry basket. I am omnipotent - all powerful, invincible and able to do what is inhuman...
6 comments
Read more

Of panty lines and such other

Truth be told, as one woman to another, your panty line cutting across your baytock is not a pleasant sight.   True story.   And no, I am not jealous.   Truly, I really do not care that you have a big bum.   And yes, my backside is minuscule, a peanut of a derriere.   I am not well endowed in my nether regions.   And still I am not jealous. Lets talk about us, the small haunched women.   As the world goes gaga over the well endowed grogan ciandas, we too have drooled [in an appreciation of God’s creation kind of way and not on a sexual orientation manner], coveted those mahagas.   We have each come to the realisations that, “my fundamentals is small ya?”   We have told ourselves that “not all good things come in big packages” and “small is good too”.   And with that admission has come acceptance and soon an appreciation for our pint sized rear    My bottom is small.   And to add injury to insult, it has a b...
4 comments
Read more

Gal, before you get hitched....

Yeee!!   You are getting married.    Marriage is beautiful. You are in for a great ride!!  Exhilarating and thrilling.   Here is what I think you should know...... Marriage is an official arrangement.  That demands some bureaucratic process and hunting for certificates and signatures from various authorities.  Parking your backside on a man’s 4x6 bed and squeezing your underwear next to his in the bag hanging off the mobile wardrobe door is not a marriage. Even if you have four children.  And it does not matter what the constitution says.  Marriage happens when a man publicly stands up and says it has happened.  Until that day, you are just a woman he sexes, a woman who bears his children, but is not good enough to marry.   Before you marry, you know nothing about marriage.  You have watched marriages.  You have read about it.  You have gone for pre-mar...
1 comment
Read more

I will write on my table

I am a creature of habits and routines.  Some good, some nasty, some neither here nor there – Rouge Deck thing with a crimson pool, that I nearly took a tumble into.  Future wise words to self – wear flats on deck. lukewarm, which I hear is reviled in some quarters.  One thing is, I do not often go into some spaces.  Like the food, fashion and furniture affair at the DusitD2 space – nice, with its with its Rouge Deck thing with a crimson pool, that I nearly took a tumble into.  Future wise words to self – wear flats on deck. Food was good.  The mushroom fritter like bites dipped in a ricotta and something and dip were divine.  I shamelessly munched on them in bunches of three.  I told the bites distributer to via me every 5 minutes.  Very obedient.  I stopped counting at their fourth stop.  Meanwhile, I was informed that the word divine is bougie bougie and to stop using it tout de suite.  I did.  Will never speak i...
Post a Comment
Read more

Once upon a time you had a friend

Once upon a time you had a friend.   And you were good friends.   Then, like some good things, the friendship came to an end. There was no dramatic fallout between you.   No hurled insults and abuses.   No nothing like that.   Just a longer time to respond to a greeting, and an increasing number of missed calls.   And time.   Time happened in between you. Sometimes you think about things from the other side of the friendship.   And wonder if it was a deliberate decision to move on.   But then you reason, it doesn’t really matter why the friendship ended, what is important is the fact that, once it was there, and then it was not. Then months later, or maybe years later, your former good friend turns up, and attempts to slide back into your life with a ‘Hello Stranger! How have you been?” smiley kind of electronic message. And you are thinking, “Stranger?   Me?   You stopped engaging in calls, sms or emails. You c...
2 comments
Read more