Own It
What does it mean to own it? Like, really Own It?
Well I think it's accepting yourself fully, accepting both your strengths and weaknesses. Owning it is the ability to live your life without regrets or apology, acknowledging every mistake you've ever made while improving and positively evolving.
Truthfully, owning it has never been easy. Accepting where you come from, accepting your story—especially when it's not something the society approves of, it's never been easy... It will never be easy and most especially not in a world where the ‘grass-to-grace’ story is ranked higher than hard work, in a world where hypocrisy has been made the new norm.
From a young age, I was the weird kid, I didn't ever fit in with my big round glasses that framed my oval shaped face, I said the most unusual things, asked the most bizarre questions, I really wanted to know why homosexuality was a forbidden topic, or why boys didn't menstruate, to add to this, I also didn't care how I looked, I could never relate when girls fussed about every little thing down to the sand on their shoes, as long as I wasn't naked.
Puberty came with a truck load of insecurities, I started questioning everything; how I looked, what I said, where I went, who I talked to, especially what the other kids thought about me. So I tried to fit in, continually adjusting my uniforms until they became tight fits, wearing a bra and becoming friends with the cool kids.
But just as I knew I wasn't part of their crew, they knew too, so I tried harder to be liked, by making myself the butt of the joke, doing their chores and giving them my pocket money.
I never fitted in, no matter how hard I tried, instead the bullying began, people started to avoid me, some of my friends abandoned me, I became a joke, a synonym for freak, weird and disgusting.
I didn't know how severe the bullying effects would be until it became too late.
All through out my days in secondary school, I never saw myself as beautiful, my self esteem and self worth were at all time low. I hated my body, skin colour and basically everything about me, I wanted to be thinner, taller and lighter and it hurt because, I really wanted to fit in so badly, I wanted all the boys to see me in a positive light instead of avoiding me like I was a contagious plague.
Tragedy shortly struck my family, I was devastated, I had no one to talk to, I smiled through my pain and suffering. I began to have suicidal thoughts, but I couldn't go through with any of my then-wishes, so... I drowned my sorrow in books, sad songs and food.
I graduated from secondary school with a bucket load of insecurities, I entered university shortly, and dated the very first boy to ever tell me I was beautiful, I didn't really like him but he thought I was beautiful so why not.
Oh if only I knew.
He became my personal nightmare, nothing I did ever measured up, he complained about how I looked so very often, saying I was getting fat, subtly body shaming me, he complained about how dark I was becoming, how ‘terribly’ I dressed.
Then him began to threaten me by saying he will leave me if I didn't measure up. So. I went on diets, changed my skin care products, so I could tone.
Soon my friends saw him with different girls, he didn't even try to hide that he was cheating. I was hurt, broken and confused, I kept asking myself why I wasn't enough, was it because I wasn't thinner, taller? Was it because of my skin color? Why wasn't I just enough, why wasn't I ever enough?
We broke up after the scandal, I ignored the pain, the hurt and anger in front of everyone, I only cried in the shower, if only they knew how broken I was, I wouldn't have gotten a new nickname, I wouldn't have been called the "Iron Lady" for weeks on.
The long holidays came after our final exams, so out of sheer boredom, I joined a feminist group I was invited into, I was skeptical at first because of how feminism was perceived by the world, especially here in Africa, how the movement was ‘for women who didn't shave and couldn't find husbands’
As each day passed I connected with this movement, the ideology appealed to me, it showed me how my self worth wasn't tied to how a man feels about me, how I was complete without a man, Feminism showed me that expressing myself wasn't and isn't something to be ashamed of.
I'm not saying feminism fixed my problems, no far from it, but it became a guide to the kind of life I wanted to live.
I worked on improving myself, I learnt how to accept every flaw, Imperfection, insecurities and regrets I had.
I cut myself off from friends who made me question my value, I started speaking out more and above all, I began falling in love with myself again because I realized ‘the one person I'd always have, is me’, it's only me, I had to own me, I had to own it.
It hasn't been an easy journey, there are bad days more often than the good, but I remember how far I have come and know I can't go back. I know I won't go back.
This is my story, I won't pretend I'm perfect, in our generation everyone tries to be strong, tries to exclude their suffering, bad decisions or regrets in their ‘life story’. I'm not like that anymore, I'm doing the opposite because I truly believe that's what makes our story.
According to Michelle Obama "It's not about being perfect. It's not about where you get yourself in the end. There's power in allowing yourself to be known and heard in owning your unique story in your authentic voice".
And that, that is exactly what I'm doing... I'm owning my unique story.
Follow This Talented Writer On IG
Comments
Post a Comment