An Ode to MaLange (My Mother)

My mother is the first person I met. She held me against her chest after hours of painful labour. I was confused by all the noise and the latex covered hands that poked and prodded at me, but her touch must have felt familiar in the midst of the chaos. She taught me that the burning in my belly was hunger and she knew exactly how to ease and nourish the yearning.

My mother taught me intimacy as she held me to her breast and gazed lovingly into my eyes. I must have reached up my hand because I knew even then that she adored me and I wanted to touch the love that seemed to emmerse me.

My mother taught me how to be brave. How could I not be when she stood at the other end of the room arms stretched out and joy in her eyes as she waited for me to take my first steps?

Mom taught me to be responsible. She sent me back to school to find my lost school jersey once. It was a while before I lost my belongings after that!

My mother gently cleaned my skinned knees even though she told me a thousand times not to run around without my shoes on.

My mother taught me about Jesus. She nudged me in His direction every single Sunday, evening devotions were a non-negotiable and conversations with Him were a must.

My mom told me that no matter what I decided to be when I grew up, she would support and encourage me. She cried rivers of tears for me as she brought my life before Jesus... Come to think of it, every day to this day, she brings me to the feet of Jesus in prayer.

My mom is my biggest fan. She cries when I cry, laughs when I laugh and forever invades my space so that I never forget how deeply I am loved by her.

I thank you, Lord Jesus for the beautiful women that You helped to bring us into the world. I thank you that you compel them to stay on their knees for us and for the unexplainable, unconditional and immovable love they have for us. Happy Mother's Day.

Morning Has Broken

Every morning without fail I wake up in the early hours. My mind takes a look at its surroundings; it dawns on me. I'm yearning and my thirst has not been satisfied.

I fumble around for the tv remote. I know sleep will not return until I have to get up and face the day. If I'm honest with myself, I chose to be here. I chose a life where I measure myself with the back of a teaspoon. I didn't mean to. I wish we could see further down the road before we make a decision. I'd like to think we would choose differently if we foresaw what lay ahead. I think I would not have chosen you. I would've run away. I can't say being here was worth it, I mean, what have I achieved and how have I grown? I'm Benjamin Buttoning. I don't feel. I keep 2 arms lengths away;  from everyone.

But you're here too. Was the road you chose worth it? Do you look at where you are and desperately laqaza for an exit? Why did you stay here as long as you have? Did you imagine you would walk with me as long as you have? Did you plan to reduce me to this? Would you have chosen differently if you knew I would become this? Why did you even come? Nevermind, I know why you came.

I miss feeling, though. I want to feel again. I want to be free of you but I fear that even if I break away, I will look longingly over my shoulder and I will come back. Do you look over yours at me? Do you wish you were here and not there?

I long for the day when I can sleep all night and spend my whole day with no thought of you, but you linger everywhere; not just the corners of my mind but the nooks of my heart too. I didn't choose you. I didn't decide to put you there, but you drifted in subtly. You have made your home here. You are the furniture in the room. You are solid. I should redecorate my heart but I love the furniture... Stay because I want you to. Stay because you want to. Stay for both of us. Stay...

Up the scale

The moment he walked into my matchbox house, it hit me. "Please will you open this container of home stewed peaches. It's really tight!" single girl problems- we see men for one thing only; opening tightly closed things and lifting heavy objects if there's nothing broken to fix in the house. But that is a blog for another day.

While I made myself lunch before we headed out, he mused over my 3 guitars, "Do you play these?" he asked. "No, they're just decorations", I roll my eyes in response. Why do they always ask such silly questions, I wonder. He picked up my red steel string, sat down and began to pick. "Oh yeah, you used to play base!" I said. "Yup", he responded as he picked the A major scale.  SCALES!! I NEED TO LEARN SCALES!!! I told him that he had to teach me how to play that because I needed to grow musically.

"Each finger stays in a specific fret", he said. The penny finally dropped. I have been yearningly watching people play scales for years and not being able to do it myself and he finally taught me!

I have a new fire in me now. I've been practising for 10 minutes every day -30 minutes is too long ok! - Of course my fingers look like awkward claws on the fret, but practise makes permanance and already I can see some improvement. I'm trying my hand on Nina Simone's My Baby Just Cares For Me and it's actually quite doable! Yay, me!

I'm so glad I'm out of my rut! I was starting to worry that I'd lost my love for the 6 string...

The Circus

As I feel the last of my period ooze out of me, here are some thoughts on some things  I hate most about the red robot....

I can handle most of the period hassles. I can handle the stains, the suprise visits, the heavy flow, the blood clots and the beloved cramps. What I can't handle, what I really can't handle, is the emotional rollercoaster that happens about a week before the circus comes to town. I hate that with a thousand hates!

I cry and scream all day every day of that week! I cry because he doesn't answer my text back fast enough. I scream because that learner  had the nerve to ask me a question I was about to answer at that very moment. I question my purpose in life when that guy behind me honked at me at the green light when I was about to pull off and I seriously consider packing my bags and starting a new life in another country because people refuse to leave me alone! Don't get me started on the coitus. All I want is coitus from anyone or anything that will give me the time of day! I also feast on chocolate like it's the only food source on the planet.

PMS is really the pits and no amount of painkillers, hanky panky or strange snacks makes that week before better. All you can do is curl up into a fetal position and wait it out.

Five Things I Hate About Valentine's Day

I've spent the past week dreading this day so I woke up this morning with every intension to stay in the safety of my house all day. My sister, who came to visit over the weekend, insisted on going out to watch 50 shades which I had no intension of paying my hard earned money to see, but the appeaser in me relented. And so I was faced today with the 5 things I hate about Valentine's Day.

1. The Couples. I hate those pairs that look like they were made for each other. They have the same dress sense and seem to move in the same circles. I have no idea what my dress sense is so I wouldn't know what my valentine would look like. Thanks for that reminder,couples!

2. The love statuses. Not that it's different on any other day, but on Vday it's every. Single. Status update. Now, all of a sudden, people are poets and smoother than R Kelly! I don't care, dude!

3. Love Statuses unrelated to an actual lover. Love messages to friends, kids, pets. Newsflash! Valentine's day is meant for people who are romantically involved. You're not fooling anyone with those, my friend.

4. People who refuse to celebrate Valentines Day. "Let's go out wearing all black just to prove to them that we don't care about Vday." I see you! You care! Stop fronting!

5. It's-ok-to-be-single blogs. Nothing makes me feel like more of a leper than those blogs that go on and on telling you all the reasons why you should be glad to be single. They tell you that you are better off on your own because you have more time on your hands, you answer to no one and have no responsibilties what so ever. My heart bleeds as I read through all that nonsense because I know  that all I want in my life to be smothered by the presence of another, not free time!

Here's the truth, though. I hate being alone. I hate not sharing my life with anyone, coming home to an empty house and Valentine's day is a bitter reminder that this is my situation; I am alone. So, dear world, I beg you with tears in my eyes. If you have the privellege of loving someone and being loved in return enjoy it ( but not too much because it makes me sad) and if you don't, shut up! We all know you secretely want it! And for those few that are genuinely indifferent to love days, don't rebel against them. You just sound ungreatful.

Tatoo

I need a slap accross the face. I need a punch in the stomach, a kick in the ovaries! I need some kind of awakening to the beauty of my life. And not in that settling type of attitude because what else can you do but be grateful, but a sincere content feeling; a peace. All I want is peace.

I seriously considered getting a tatoo. I'm turning thirty this year and I want to do big things. But to be honest, I don't have a good enough reason to get one besides the fact that it is slightly taboo. But seriously, how many taboo things have I been doing all these years? And is it a good enough reason? Wanting to do something out of this world? Well, out of my world anyway because my world has become incredibly dull and morbid. I wish I was in another world. I wish someone would come in and make it brighter and better otherwise I fear that I will disappear into oblivion; actual oblivion and that is the saddest most terrifying thought....

"Ugly" Black Woman

"Ugly" black woman who resembled a boy, had grazed knees because she always ran instead of walked and hated the sight of shoes. She just wanted to play.

"Ugly" Black woman who never wore skirts unless for netball, who kept her hairstyle simple to keep eyes averted and cracked jokes to keep them at a distance. She hid behind her six string, eyes closed hoping they couldn't see her. She really just wanted them to see her though.She just wanted to find herself.

"Ugly" black woman who tried so hard to be pure in His eyes but still felt like  she was failing. She just wanted His affirmation.

"Ugly" black woman who waited and waited and is still waiting. "Why don't you see me?" is her persistant question. She just wants to be enough.

"Ugly" black woman. You are fire. You feel everything  painful and it's ok. Your heart is shredded and now it's  numb dispite it all. But someday. Someday you'll feel the beauty and the love too. One day your smile will match your heart flutters.

Let's Celebrate

I walked into my mother's house during the December holidays exhausted from a long and irritating trip to the homeland and all I wanted to do was relieve my swollen feet and get out of my  clothes that reeked of brandy and  overnight body odour. It took me a second to take note, but the lounge I grew up in didn't look like the lounge I grew up in. We had been robbed! The couches I've always known were replaced by leather ones!

Earlier last year, my mother  decided to resign from her job of 18 years and the department she had dedicated 29 years to so that she could enjoy her home. One of the things she was advised to do with all her retirement money was to buy one big thing that would be a physical symbol of her emancipation - she decided to change our lounge suite for the first time in 29 years.

I stood in a tired amazed stupour staring at this room that was changed for the first time since I was born. I was suddenly in awe at how far we had come. For the first time in a long time, money was not a problem in my immediate family. My brother has a job he is happy in and I have the privellege of seeing him whenever I like. My mom is finally in a place in her life where she has most of the things I always wanted for her - And peace of mind. These are things I've always looked at with other families, things I have always longed for for my own family and for the first time, we were that family.

With the new year just beginning, people around me are setting goals; new things they want to accomplish, old habits they want to give up on, better people they want to be and all I want to do is celebrate.

I want to celebrate that this year, I turn 30 years old, my sister turns 21 and my mother turns 60! Those are important milestones! I want to celebrate our success as a family, where we come from and where we are. For us, this is not the year to self-improve, but rather to sit back and marvel at all that has happened over the years. We are trully blessed beyond what we could ever dream in abundance and in need.

Friends Forever!

There are different types of people that come in and out of our lives. There are those that leave because you outgrow each other and those that stay usually do so because you choose each other.

And then there  are those that walk in and stay by accident. Karolien is that friend. We played in bands together at university. We never really moved in the same circles, but we always got along relatively well. When university days came to an end, she was the last person I expected to still have in my life 5 years later. It started with daily google chat conversations when we both hated our jobs and lived for our google translate conversations that varied from French to German! In retrospect she really got me through those 15 months. We had an opportunity to catch up today; see each other again for the first time in years.

I walk away now so grateful to have her as a friend and grateful for such flukes in life. We don't always know who is best to have in our lives. It's nice to have certain people that we have no choice in having.

I Can't Get No Satisfaction

"Drink from that wishing well but may it never quench your thirst."

 I hate this concept because it encourages us to keep desiring more from our lives. But when you want more it's usually out of dissatisfaction with how your life is in the moment. It's the dissatisfaction that I hate. On the seventh day, God looked at everything he had made and said that is was good.He was satisfied. Sure, it was really the beginning of huge disasters that He knew were coming, but in that moment, He was satisfied. I don't want to be God (obviously) but I want to be able to look over my life and say the same thing. I want to be satisfied with the way things are in all the different aspects of my life and to make changes based on a desire to tweak what is already there. I am nowhere near this point because I feel there are too many big changes that I still need to make. I'd like my thirst to be quenched in that sense and the continued thirst to be about smaller things; things that will not leave me anxious because  I haven't changed them.

I hate discomfort. I hate constant change. I hate that I have not yet arrived where I'd like to be. I hate that I am constantly restless. Take that away and I think I will function better and enjoy my life a bit more than I am right now. I'm rambling again...

Sleep

I wrote this last year in an attempt to romanticise what has now become my nemesis. Every day I wake up in the wee hours of the morning - wide awake.

Sleep deprives me.
Thoughts crowding my head.
So many hours lay ahead.

Ahead. I thought I was moving ahead.
Now I'm five steps lagging.
Ahead is now actually behind...

What lays behind me, I'll one day say out loud.
Alternatively, I'll always hold it inside in hope that someday, I'll forget...

Forget. It's easy to forget what I mean to you.
Have I forgotten or have you just not told me yet?

Yet through it all, He sees it all, knows it all and will take me through it all
It's all for my deer feet.

An Open Letter

Dear Married Gym Instructer

I'm sorry I didn't respond positively to you rubbing my chin, smiling and winking at me flirtatiously. You may have chalked it down to me being too serious but hey, that's me.

Just because I am "too serious" though does not give you permission to ignore me in your classes. Please understand that I'm not trying to flirt with you to make up for the awkwardness you caused with your gesture.

Believe it or not, I go to gym so that I can tone my body and have a little fun. Yes, there is a rather fetching young man in my Monday spinning class but I promise I don't attend this class for him. In fact, in the last two weeks he has not been to that class and I still attend.

Because I rejected you that one time many months ago, I feel that your bruised ego could not and cannot handle my continuous attandance of your classes. That is not my problem. I don't attend for your amusement. Yes, you may look at my bum as I do your squats. I have no control over that and there are usually ten other women doing the same thing so I grin and bare it.

You being able to look and not touch is not my problem either. I hate that you can look and you hate that you can't touch so I guess we're even.

Do me a favour, though. When I have a problem during your class, it is your job to help me, not shrug your shoulders and watch the rest of the class in disregard. That will make me angry!

I have many things in my life that make me angry.  Sometimes it's plain and simple PMS but please do not make yourself one of them. I go to gym to let off a bit of steam, not to be sexually harrassed.

Yours sincerely
Disgruntled Gym Member

Me, Not New Girl

I wish my life was a serries. It takes 40 minutes to solve life's  problems and  it is done one problem at a time. I often feel like I'm swimming in many problems at once or rather one problem spills into another ( because my problems are in compartments, of course) and contaminates it. I watched an episode of New Girl this morning and that Jessica Day made a life changing decision in just 20 minutes and in the very next episode solved a sibling problem she had had in just one deep and meaningful conversation!

Serries have a nice way of tying sections of one's life up with a neat little bow while I, in real life,  go back and reopen that little box within a bigger box called my past and feast on its toxins all over again.

It's official. I need to spend less of my leisure time watching television because  it makes me set very unrealist expectations for myself and let's be honest, no teacher is as strange as Jessica Day!

An Ode to You, My Friend

Friends don't let friends struggle to get to the airport. They shrug their shoulders and say, "Sure, just make sure I don't forget to wake up at 5am to get you there. Sure, I'd love to keep your car and park it in my carport so it doesn't get damaged by the hail."

Friends don't let friends spend a weekend in the winelands without a winetasting adventure sending her back to the concrete jungle with a bottle of her own so she never forgets that there is more to the Cape than just its flat mountain. They dont let friends forget that one of the most important things in life is quality time spent talking, laughing, remembering a simpler time and marvelling at how sweet life has turned out to be.

Friends allow you into their intimate space. They won't let the most important day of their lives go by without you there to witness it and cry tears of joy at the beauty of those moments.

Friends don't let friends leave without a quick hello over a cup of tea, biscuits and a breakfast punch. A quick hello that results in a race to the boarding gate and a smile at the thought of the adventure that resembles theirs.

Friends don't let friends forget that any amount of time spent is a treasure as long as it is spent together. Friends don't let friends go through life unappreciated. They are true witnesses to your life. I salute you, my friends.

How to Go to Gym

After I was rebuked for my complaints about living alone, I decided to join the gym if only to get out of the house. The plan wasn't to get skinny but to be able to walk into my jeans not to negotiate my jiggly bits in there.

I was lucky to bump into an ex neighbour who showed me the ropes. Rule 1: get a gym buddy! When you slack, they pull you back into gear, ask you where you are and even make suggestions about things to try once there. What I love about gym is that whether you enjoy working out alone or in a group,  you're covered. At first, I just went onto the treadmill followed by a variety of machines that have a kind of gym by pictures so you can't do it wrong, but I love group activities and hearing someone grunting next to me reassuring me that they too feel my anguish.  There's no greater motivation than a fifty something year-old woman doing the same workout as you and not breaking a sweat. You keep going just to maintain your dignity!

The workers are also very friendly and eager to help or suggest exciting classes you can join. Rule 2: Gym was designed for fat, unhealthy people. You are in good company so don't worry about how you look!

Thanks to my gym buddy I found some classes I really enjoyed and soon I wasn't going to gym because I was paying for it or because it's the right thing to do. I actually looked forward to all my classes and felt really good after every single one. Rule 3: find something you really love over there whether it's just a machine or a hectic spin class. That one thing will really keep you coming back!

So after a few months and skipping sometimes a whole week at a time, I decided to broaden my horizons and found myself one class every day of the week that I comitted to trying out. In 2 weeks I was going to gym a minimum of 4 times a week. For just a one hour class. I tricked myself into thinking that it wasn't too much work or commitment but doing what I enjoyed every day.

I also discovered the steam room. Sometimes on a Sunday, I pack a gym bag with a swimsuit and shower kit. I reward myself with a half hour lounge in there. The serenity in that room is priceless and probably the best way to start the week. Rule 4: gym isn't all about hard work but can also be a place to unwind. Take advantage of that. You are paying for it, after all!

All in all I believe that a gym contract has been money well spent and the best part is seeing the results of my labour. So what are you waiting for? Give it a try!

Play That Funky Music

Today, I decided instead of staying at home, I should pay my brother a visit at the Vaal.

After waiting - I hate waiting!- in my car outside his house for almost an hour, he finally arrived. We took a drive in his car to get some food and the prettiest song came on. We had arrived back at his place at this point, but because he knows me so well and gets me - as few people do- he switched the car off and in the quiet darkness of his car, we sat and listened until it was finished.

It was quite fitting because when I was driving to the Vaal a thought occurred to me that one should always have the kind of playlist in their car that makes you want to drive around the block just one more time so you can finish that awesome song. Of course, you will have heard it a thousand times before, but one more time won't dilute what draws you to it.

My brother and I never grew up together and so we keep discovering new things we have in common all the time. Tonight our shared love for music was re-instated.

My People

For my birthday, my brother gave me a measly 10 second call at 2am. I was a little disappointed, but a week later he called to tell me that he wanted to throw me a birthday braai 2 weekends later. I was over the moon!

But then I realised that I was going to once again spend my (belated) birthday with someone else's people. To remedy that, I decided to invite some of my friends - or at least enough friends to fill my car for the drive to the Vaal. I was hesitant doing this because I didn't  know who would actually come. After days of procrastination and overthinking, as only I know how to do, I managed to round up 3 friends for the festivities.

I was still worried though. These ladies only had me in common, as far as they knew anyway. What if they went all the way to the Vaal just to have a terrible time because of me? The drive down was akward at first, but conversation eventually flowed and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Within minutes at my brother's house, these 3 women immediately commandeered his kitchen. Lebo did the dishes, Thula started on the salad and Kholu marinated the meat ( and later braaied it all like a boss!!). I stood at the door and watched them work and realised that these guys were making themselves at home in a place they were not familiar with. They were taking initiative and turning a house into a home. It was awesome to see it being played out because that's exactly what I would have done if the tables were turned.

Now, it may not sound like much to you. But all those episodes of Grey's Anatomy make sense. I watched my friends with their people all the time. I fit in with them, but I always wonder if they would ever fit with each other, in my world. And if they did fit in, what would make them distinctly my people? Here were these ladies showing me that they were in fact my people. These were just a handful of my friends working away in an environment they were not familiar with and enjoying themselves, because of me!!

So there you have it. From  now on I vow to no longer compartmentalise my friends, because all you need for a successful social gathering is just one thing or person that those people have in common. And then, Bob's your uncle! I'm greatful that I can say that I have people that I can call my own! It makes a world that often seems big and lonely a little brighter.

Daddy Issues

"I'm a child of divorce. Please don't make me choose!" I always pull out this card when I have to make decisions. The kids that grew up with both parents HATE this comment while the kids who were raised by their mothers roll on the floor laughing.

So I am one of many kids out there who were raised by their mothers. I know what makes an amazing mother, but I really have to think about what makes a dad great.

I was scrolling down my Facebook newsfeed today and saw so many status updates saluting moms for doubling up as fathers as well. One friend even stopped midsentence saying "I don't know where I'm going with this [father's day wish]". I was suddenly so sad. Yes, Our mothers did a great job raising us and we are fortunate to have them. But they raised us on their own because they had to. If they had a choice, I'm sure they would've chosen differently. I know I would've chosen differently for my own mother because she really deserves better. I have always wanted to make things better for her. As big and ugly as we are, we turn into little kids on parents' days. We remember everything that they did or failed to do for us.

I guess the little girl in me. The one who used to set the table at dinner and  make my mom and her then boyfriend sit at the table so I could have a family for 20 minutes. That little girl has this to say to men. We need you! We need you to teach us how to ride a bike, how to drive a car. We need you to drill holes in our walls so we can put up our pictures, to tell us to have our engines cleaned and how to fix things. We need you to tell us what we need in our toolboxes. We need you!!!  Your role is vital in our lives.

When I grow up

One of the first questions that gets thrown around upon meeting new people is "So what did you always want to be when you grow up?"

I've never been that kid, though. I remember wanting to be a pharmacist once; that was soon replaced by a marine biologist. I don't know why but at the time ( I must've been 10) those careers seemed glamourous somehow... I've always wanted attention. I've always yearned , above all else, to be validated, I think. I still get taken aback when asked if I always wanted to be a teacher. The best answer I can give is I don't stand in front of my kids and wish I was elsewhere doing something else. But I do sometimes fear that I am making no impact on them. When that boy drags his feet into my classroom, slouches in his chair, and let's out a long sigh before responding with half-opened eyes, "I dunno", I feel a little defeat seep into me. I'm trying so hard to make this exciting!! Why aren't you excited?!

I've learnt and  continue to learn that I am restless. Sometimes I squirm in discomfort and I question and overthink everything! I convince myself of the biggest lies and drive myself almost over a cliff. It's good to know this  because once you understand it, you can live with that thing you hate about yourself until you see it's not something to hate but to understand and embrace. Afterall, restlessness is what has often compelled me to make a move.

Through all that discomfort though, you should always remember never to under estimate your ability to influence. In a good or bad way, we influence people. No one walks out of our lives untouched by us.  Sometimes it'll be obvious and on other days, you'll have to say it over and over again to yourself while hugging your knees in a corner, but believe me, it happens.

How to Live Alone

Finally, after over a year of wishing to live alone, here I am. I finally got what I wanted and all of a sudden, it seemed like I had all this time on my hands and nothing to do with that time but wonder if I made the right decision. What if I choke on my dinner and die? How long will it take for them to find my body? Which brings me to rule number 1; do NOT overthink it! Your mind will go to very strange places!

There I was, at Joburg Zoo thinking out loud to two married-with-kids colleagues and one of them finally cuts me short and says, "You singles irritate me! You're young. You have no responsibilities but yourselves but what do you do on  Friday nights? Sit at home doing absolutely nothing! Go out! Have a little fun, for goodness sake! You're gonna want these days back when they're gone!" This brings me to rule number 2; don't stay cooped up at home. Going out -  even if it's just to gym  or staying a bit longer at work - makes you appreciate coming home to the serenity of an empty house.

I spent one Sunday  afternoon waiting for my brother to fetch his couch. I nearly burst into tears when he didn't show up. Who was I gonna talk to? My hard drive provides the illusion of interaction, but those people are interacting with each other, not me! Rule number 3; when you are home, don't be too idle. There is plenty to do.Your dishes (I'm sure you have them in the sink!), do your laundry. It wasn't just piling up with ex housemate's clothes, you know! Clean your floor! Whites are not the only ones who shed hair! And cook for yourself for crying out loud! There's no harm in learning to cook smaller portions.

Speaking of watching others interact, rule number 4 - sometimes the silence is good. It's an opportunity to read a book, write and think about your life. You'd really be surprised how much there is to think about and plan for. True story!

So far, these  rules have helped me through the first month of single living. It was hard at first and I still have days when I throw them out the window, curl into  a ball and feel sorry for myself, but slowly the silence doesn't seem so loud anymore and I've realised that this living alone business, it's not bad and it can only get better from here.