It’s okay...

Sis

I see you.

I recognise the walls you wrap around you like a shield.

Sis,

I hear you

Those arguments you get into

for no reason,

except to make sure that no one will ever

take you for a pushover,

ever, again.

Sis,

I feel you-

in control of everything

because if you don’t take care of everything,

no one will take care of it for you.

- you learnt that the hard way

the same way you learnt that it was a crime to trust

your brother - or your brother’s friends

or your dad - or your dad’s friends

or your neighbor

or your lesson teacher

or even that boy you liked, who liked you back, but when you said you didn’t like it, he still didn’t stop.

It’s become a badge of honour: to be one of those who got on with life

who are making it,

regardless.

no one knows that the reason you always have to face the door

or flinch when anyone walks behind you

or hate the sound of generators

or always always make sure you have enough money to

buy your own

is because someone who was once “kind”, stole more than you could ever buy back.

Now they dare to call you hardened

when they stole your softness.

They tell you to open up your heart,

but every time you try,

their “kindness” reminds you of uncle, and brother, and neighbour...

and the aunties that said, “shush, we don’t talk about such things.

instead, next time you see a boy,

close your legs

close your eyes.”

the aunties that come back to ask, what’s wrong, why haven’t you found a husband?

my eyes were closed, aunty;

then,

and since, in fear...

You’ve moved on

You’re killing it, sis 👏🏽

but they never let you cry.

no one gave you permission to

grieve for the version of you they killed.

You never even got to say, “It’s not fair!

I didn’t know! You betrayed me! You should have covered me!

Do you know the battles I shouldn’t have had to fight?

Do you know how much of myself - my decisions, my thoughts, my desires - that I no longer trust

because

I don’t even remember how??” you just had to grow up.

and you learnt that growing up meant

pretending you were

okay.

Sis,

I just wanted to tell you

the same thing God told me:

You don’t have to feel guilty;

You didn’t do anything wrong.

Messed up?

We all mess up:

Abraham messed up with Hagar.
Joseph's brothers messed up by letting jealousy get the best of them.
Jonah messed up by running away from his assignment.
Peter messed up by denying Jesus.
Paul messed up by killing Christians.
...
The fact that we mess up doesn't mean we can miss it; "it" being God's plan for our lives.
👇🏽
Abraham messed up with Hagar; did he miss out on Isaac?
Joseph's brothers let jealousy get the best of them. But did that disqualify them from going to Goshen?
Jonah ran away from his assignment. Did it keep God from using him to fulfill it?
Peter denied Jesus. Did that keep Jesus from making him the rock on which He built His church?
Paul persecuted the church. Did it keep God from using him to spread the gospel?

You can NOT miss God's plan for your life.
- You can make mistakes. You can fumble. You can make the wrong choices.

But, no matter how much you have messed up, please, never get so wrapped up in your own guilty over-analysis of your mess that you start to think you have messed up God's plan for you.

📢 News flash: you are not that powerful.

And God is not so fickle that He'd sulk and say He's not doing again, just because you annoyed Him.
He's not your ex. He's not that uncle who promised to buy you a car then changed his mind because you didn't greet him properly.
He is God.
He is faithful even when we are faithless.
He is unchanging.
He sees the end from the beginning; He already knew you were going to mess up and planned to work even your worst mistakes together for good.
Has He not said it? Will He not do it? Tell me!

So, I repeat: you CAN NOT miss God's plan for your life!

But the fact that you can't miss it doesn't mean you can't mess up: so, own your mess, invite Him to help clean it up and get out of that funk you're still stuck in.
He has already forgotten about it and moved on. You'd better move on, too.

"For I will be merciful toward their iniquities, and I will remember their sins no more." (Hebrews 8:12 ESV)

Faith vs. Control

"A lot of the things we teach about principles of faith are just methods of control."

- I got that yesterday, sitting with God for my dedicated hour, trying to make sure I stayed connected, stressing out about whether or not I was hearing Him right, whether I was in the right place, doing enough, being enough.
He said to me, "People are not successful because they work hard; they are successful because success is a gift I give. That's why you know many people who work hard and are 'unsuccessful', and many others who don't seem to do anything and are 'successful'."
Aka: the results we get are not because of the things we do, but because of the One who chooses to give them to us.

"But he answered, "It is written, "'Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.'""
(Matthew 4:4 ESV)

I listened to a message where the preacher explained, that we are not alive because we have food to eat; the food on its own has no power to give life. It is because the Word of God has empowered the food to nourish us that it has any power to do so in the first place.

Which is why listening to God FOR YOURSELF is so important: the thing that looks foolish for everyone else won't be foolish for you if God has asked you to do it. Because, once He has given that instruction, He has empowered the action to produce results.

Am I making sense???

L'oro kan, you are not successful by your wise decisions. You are successful by the blessing of God. And any action you're taking or plan you're making just because it's the sensible thing to do will be a waste of the time God has invested in you, if it's not what He has asked (or nudged) you to do.

Selah.

What's in a name?

It's Monday! Another week in this circumstance we find ourselves in.

Fun fact: did you know that "Corona" means "Crown"? (Eg: "The Coronation of the king is scheduled to hold tomorrow.")
The person/ people who named the virus looked at it and thought, "This thing is shaped like a crown. Let's call it the crown virus."
Royal families everywhere probably revolted. "We refuse to be associated with sickness!" And so the scientists looked for a different word that meant the same thing.

What if the scientists had looked at it and thought it looked like the wheel of a ship instead? Or like the cork of a coke bottle? Or like a star?
Would it have been called Wheelievirus? Or Corkyvirus? Or Solarvirus?
More importantly, would that have changed its devastating impact on the world?

What's in a name?
Does it matter what you call a thing, if the thing is the same, regardless?
My name is Omotayo, but if you call me Nkechi, would it make me less myself? And if you called me nothing, or didn't know my name, would it mean that I didn't exist?

If you're chosen, favoured, talented and unique, but someone else calls you something else, does it mean you're not all those things?
And if someone else looks at your life, and decides that they don't think it's beautiful, does that give them the right to call it ashes?
And even if they do, would it take away from its beauty?
And even if they ignored you, as if you didn't matter, would it mean you don't?

What do YOU call yourself, your life, your experiences?
What do YOU call this season we're in?
What do YOU call your future, even though you haven't "met" it, yet?

💭

Binging

Addictions are comforting because there’s a legitimate emotional need we’re trying to fill and we don’t know how to. It’s too emotionally difficult to try to figure out what the original need is, therefore we can’t ask for help, so we self-soothe:

Binge-watching, eating, sleeping, sexing, even working. In this time of reduced external activity, our addictions (our compulsive or unproductive self-soothing, comfort-reflexes) are coming out more forcefully than ever.

Specifically, I want to talk about the binge-sexing.
Some of us are addicted to sex - or the idea of sex - and as such are masturbating like crazy in this time. Some of us think it’s because we’re lonely and don’t know how else to ease the pressure. Some of us think masturbation is actually quite healthy and don’t think it’s a big deal. Some of us think it’s not sooo bad like that, sha, but still feel guilty everytime we indulge. Some of us are in the agonizing pain of condemnation because we believe it’s the worst sin in the world and, yet, find ourselves there, over and over again.

I have no rhema or word of instruction. I have no clever conclusion, either. If you’re the praying sort, you’ve probably already prayed about it 🤷🏽‍♀️
I just wanted to let you know that it’s not you - or the addiction itself - that’s the problem; it’s the reason why it’s there in the first place that needs to be investigated. After all, we only have fruits because the trees are planted.

Singles, it’s not because you’re single.
Marrieds(😅), it’s not because your spouse doesn’t do it how you like it.
It’s not because there’s nothing to do in this isolation period (as we know, there’s actually a LOT to do; social media, free courses, chores, etc.)
It’s not even because you like sex that much.

Again. No conclusion. Just… I see you.

How to be Single: Sample Chapters

 

Chapter 1: Valentine's Day      It was February 14th 2017, and Social Media was really getting on my nerves. On the one hand, there were couples who proudly showed off their flowers, chocolate, surprise singers and all other forms of evidence to show that they were loved, admired; wanted. On the other hand, there were the Fierce Feminists who didn’t need a man and, anyway, Valentine’s Day was just an over commercialised capitalist scheme. Then there were the encouragers: married people who admonished single ladies not to feel the pressure of the day.      “Your single season is the most important time of your life. Find your purpose, seek God more and enjoy this time,” they said, while thanking their husbands for being the best thing to have ever happened to them. But, “don’t feel lonely today, Jesus loves you, everyday!”      The lovebirds were annoying but the encouragers were the worst.        I remember talking to one of my friends on the phone, “These people end up making single people feel guilty for feeling lonely!” I ranted. “Going on about how we should ’focus on our purpose’ up and down the place. Well, what about those of us who have found our purpose and are already close to God? What about single people who are thriving in their single season already? Why can’t we be content with our lives and still want to be married? Why does everyone act like feeling lonely is something to be ashamed of?”      “Mmh,” she replied.      “Does anyone tell a woman who really wants to get a good job that ‘she is complete in herself’ and doesn’t need a better job? Does anyone tell a woman who has been trying for a baby to ‘keep working on her character and enjoy her married-without-children years’? Of course not! Then why do we continue shaming single people for desiring marriage?”      “So true,” my married friend said.      “I feel like I have so much to say about being single,” I sighed.      “Then you should talk about it!”      “Yeah,” I muttered.      But I was afraid. If I started to talk about singleness, I would have to put myself out there. Not only that, wouldn’t I have to remain Single in order to be a true authority on the matter? And I didn’t want to be Single, anymore. I was so tired of being strong, being fine, being alone.        It feels like I’ve wanted to be married since I was born. I’m the only girl in a family of four brothers and two parents and I grew up okay; I had food to eat, clothes on my back and school fees were paid, but there was always an ache in my heart that I eventually filled with the imagination of marriage.      I stumbled on one of my mum’s Mills and Boon romance novels when I was eight, and the steamy passion of forbidden love made the ache deepen; the love stories painted the picture of the possibility of something that could cure my heartache. The characters seemed to know exactly how I felt; they would fall in love and exclaim some version of, “All my life I’ve been searching for something… I didn’t know what it was, but now I’ve found it in you.” That’s it, I reasoned, I just needed to find this love and it would cure my loneliness!      I became hungrier for romance novels and they painted picture after picture of the many different ways I could hope for the hole in my heart to be filled, but I was also heartbroken in advance as I realised – Nigerian men don’t buy flowers or have witty conversations and flirtatious banter. At least, I had never seen my parents do any such thing. As far as I could see, it was all, “Mummy, is food ready?” and “Tell your daddy he has a visitor,” between them. That made me cry even more, and I decided that I would have to find a way out of the country to find my perfect Italian heir who was taking a break from the pressures of his fabulous life (because his wealthy parents were trying to force him to marry a woman he didn’t love). He would find me, an unlikely Nigerian with strange hair and a beautiful heart and we would fall impossibly in love, then he would break up with me because it could never be… But, weeks later, he would walk into the art gallery or bookstore I work at and confess that it was only with me that he had ever felt truly alive, and he would risk his fortune for true love.      Then, when I was fifteen, I met a guy. He was witty and intelligent and even thought it was cool to buy flowers (even though he never did buy me any) and I realised I could find Italy right here. The guy broke my heart, sha, but that was just a small price to pay for the realisation that my dream could actually come to pass in Nigeria. I would eventually meet other guys, get my feelings hurt over and over, while still waiting for The One who would make all the heartache worth it.      But heartache is never “worth it”.      I remember one guy I dated who kept me physically close but was completely distant emotionally. Whenever I would ask what the status of our relationship was (you know, the, “what are we doing?” conversation), he would sigh condescendingly and roll his eyes, “We’re together, I like you, you like me. We don’t need it to be official,” he would say. But when anyone else asked him if he was seeing anyone, his answer was no. Of course, it would get back to me and I’d confront him, “So-and-so said you denied me.” He would sigh again, “You know I don’t like people knowing my business. Everyone who’s important knows about you.”      Listen, this is a scam, and it is still very much alive and active. The “important people” are the ones he can ask to watch his back while he goes around doing whatever else he wants to do. These “important people” are his guys and they’re fully aware of all his shady business. There’s a bro-code: something like, “Thou shalt pretend that every woman is important, as long as thy bro require-reth it.”      PS: Sometimes, family members are the most dangerous “important people”.      Every babe that’s with such a guy will get the same lines: “Babe, let’s just keep this between us.” “My guys really like you.” “My mum said I should say hi,” and yet, it means nothing.        Many years after I had been scammed, I inadvertently found myself acting as one of the “important people” in someone else’s scam. This babe had been “with” this guy for a while, almost a year. She thought they were committed.      One day, we were hanging out: my friend, this babe, my friend’s brother and I. We were sharing funny stories from past experiences and I was talking about this Top Secret relationship scam.      “Any guy who doesn’t take you to public places on dates is dodgy,” I shared. “If you only hang out with, like, his brother or best friend but he doesn’t take you out or introduce you to his colleagues, run!”      Then she said, “I’ve never met his friends! Just you guys.”      “No, I’m sure you’ve hung out with them,” I laughed, dismissing it.      “No, seriously,” she giggled, “Just you guys!”      And that’s when I realised I was an accessory to his crime.      My friend, the smooth operator, laughed and pointed out the times they had travelled together or something seemingly important like that, and we changed the topic.      Later, when I accosted him with it, he boldly asserted, “I haven’t asked her out, so, whatever.”      “Do you plan to?”      “I mean, it’s not necessary.”      He was getting everything he wanted and she was happy. What was the worst that could happen?      Listen, ladies, just because he has met your parents and you’ve met his siblings doesn’t mean he’s actually serious. Lawyers will tell you: only a verbal or written agreement is valid. An assumption based on “but we hang out all the time” is a scam. But I’m getting ahead of myself.        Despite how much I desired marriage, it just didn’t happen. The guys I wanted to marry didn’t want to marry me, and I didn’t want to marry the one who wanted to marry me.      Sometimes, I lay in bed and wondered whether it was possible to dissolve from loneliness. Like, just disintegrate into a pile of dust and be blown away by the wind. I can be spectacularly dramatic when I choose to let my emotions lead my thoughts. And yet, the weird thing is that none of this showed on the outside. Of course, I moaned about being single with my friends – until they all got married – but I was never that person who asked everyone to hook her up. I went out a lot – weddings, parties, etc. – but I was never the one who made eye contact and flirted confidently.     One of my guy friends said to me, “You act like you’re not single,” which I took as a compliment, at first, but then I started to wonder… You know how it is when you go out, and you see the lads checking out the ladies and the ladies smiling coyly back, batting their lashes suggestively even without saying a word? Or when a babe “takes a walk” around a party to “look for her friends” but she walks slowly – by herself? Well, I walked too fast. I laughed and chatted with the people I already knew and, for the life of me, I still don’t know how to bat my lashes. I acted like I was out with my friends rather than out on the prowl. My “Single” signal was a confusing Amber and I didn’t know what to do about it. I didn’t know whether I was supposed to do anything about it. I felt confident when I was out and I loved to dance, but I always went home disappointed when I didn’t get chatted up; another full face of make up and carefully chosen outfit wasted, yet again. And then the few guys who would occasionally take my number wouldn’t call.      Was there something wrong with me? Even if it wasn’t, like, wrong wrong; maybe just a little off. Maybe I was just a little weird. Maybe I wasn’t sexy enough. After all, my ex had told me I had “the bum of a white woman”. Maybe, maybe, maybe.   There’s this common saying, “there’s a hole in everyone’s heart that only God can fill.” Whenever I’d come across it I’d think to myself, that doesn’t even make any sense; God is too big to fit in a hole. And even if there really is such a thing, then the fact that there’s a hole for God doesn’t mean it’s the only hole; pretty certain there are many holes in our hearts that many different things are meant to fill. I mean, I had a marriage-shaped hole and a money-shaped hole I was trying to fill, and if God wanted a hole of His own, fine by me, but He could go ahead and fill it up by Himself.      Furthermore, this whole marriage thing, sef; people didn’t really look happy in it. Wives were always complaining about their husbands and threatening to leave, because, “We’re not in the olden days anymore and a woman doesn’t need her husband to make ends meet. I don’t have to take it from him!”      Men also stopped trying to be romantic, lost interest in their wives after they’d had a few babies and generally thought they were doing the women a favour by staying with them. Some men bragged that they were good husbands because they were discreet. “No, I can never disrespect my wife by cheating in her face for everyone to see. I keep it away from home.”      Aunts advised, “See, all men are the same. Just find one you can manage and close your eyes.”      A married man once told me that he loved his wife, but he just had a weakness (for other women) and she understood him. Whatever works for you, I thought, but if these were my only options, they were extremely bleak.      But I couldn’t understand: if marriage was a bed of private misery and public pretence, why were these very same unhappy men and women trying to encourage me to enter into it?      “Ah, no, but marriage can be really sweet,” someone would say, in-between complaining about her husband. (It really seemed like the women were perfect and the men were the ones with the problem.)      What was even more ridiculous was that, even after everything I had seen, heard and learnt about the darn thing, that achy hole in my heart was still dreaming of finding one who would defy all the odds in the universe and actually fill it with love.      I was ashamed of this persistent desire to be married. I mean, I knew better than to tie my hopes and dreams to the conformist idea of a union between a man and a woman that, statistically, was fifty percent likely to end in tears and regret. It felt as if desiring marriage meant that I was not a strong woman; that I was breaking the feminist ranks and giving my power away to a member of The Patriarchy.      And, yet, every Valentine’s Day, I would find myself, single, alone and unwanted, dreaming of the day I would also become an encourager:      “I used to be like you, wishing someone would complete me. Then I found out that no one can complete you but God! PS: thank you for the flowers, baby! You’re the best and I love you. Happy Valentine’s Day! x.” Chapter 2: Fruits and Broomsticks My favourite analogy for Singleness involves comparing Fruits to Broomsticks. I’ll explain:      When we’re single, most of us feel incomplete, like we’re lacking something. The same way a broomstick that’s separated from the bunch is useless to sweep, we feel like we’re lacking something or someone and, until we are joined together with that person, there’s only so much we can do on our own.      One day, I decided to look up the word, “Single” in the dictionary. As expected, it was linked to all the negative feelings of loneliness, being separated and isolated, with the weight of lack hanging over it. “Single” and lonely… “Single” and lacking a partner… “Single” and incomplete… I knew that couldn’t be right. I eventually found a synonym that painted a more accurate picture: the word “Whole.” “Whole”, meaning, a thing that is complete all by itself.      Where a single broomstick is isolated, lonely, ineffective, incomplete and separated, a single fruit is whole: it is complete in itself. A single fruit has all the juice and nutrients it needs. A single fruit has enough seeds to create a forest; it carries in itself everything it needs to multiply. It is whole.        And so the first thing to understand about Singleness is that you are whole. You are not lacking anything; everything you need is inside you. You do not need another person to be complete, you do not need another person to be effective, and you do not need another person to make you valuable. You do not need another person to validate you and make you feel wanted, loved and special. You are all that, all by yourself. “… Perfect and complete, lacking nothing.” James 1:4 (NIV)       But I know you don’t really believe that, not deep down in your heart when you’re alone with your thoughts and feelings. You know how to say the words, how to share the quotes online, how to square your shoulders and dress the part, but you still think there’s something missing. Like me, every time you think of your singleness you wonder if it’s possible that there’s something wrong with you – maybe it’s the way you dress? Maybe your job doesn’t allow you to socialise? Maybe you need to change your hairstyle?      You’ve heard that guys like girls who think and behave a certain way and you wonder, maybe you just don’t have it. You’re not sure if it’s because you have a character flaw or if it’s just how you were born and, sometimes, you think it’s just how life is: doing the best you can, day by day, but never truly feeling fulfilled.      Of course, you’re intelligent enough to understand that relationships aren’t everything. You know that there’s more to life. You didn’t need a man to achieve any of the amazing things you’ve been able to achieve… but it would be nice to find someone to share life with. You know that marriage isn’t everything but you hope it can be something… something special.        Years ago, one of my friends said to me, “Do you think anyone is really happy? What if what you think is happy is different from what they think is happy?”      I argued back, “The fact that people don’t know they’re unhappy – or don’t say they’re unhappy – doesn’t mean they’re happy.”      “Who are you to judge who’s happy or not? What if they don’t want more from life? What if they’ve never known anything else, and how they are is enough for them?”      “Everyone wants to be treated well,” I insisted.      “But, what if your standards are different from theirs?”      “The fact that they’re okay living their lives like that doesn’t mean they’re happy with it.”      “But how do you know they’re not? Who are you to impose your standards on them?”      Of course, we were arguing about different things, even though it sounded the same. It’s like apples and oranges; they’re both fruits and they’re both nutritious but they are not the same. You have to peel the skin of an orange to get to the juice, but you can eat an apple as it is. I was talking about the universal need to be valued, affirmed and loved; she was talking about how we measure value, affirmation and love.      We often mix the two up. It’s true that people have different needs, different perspectives and different expectations from life – and from love; one person thinks love is being able to sit in companionable silence, but another person thinks that being able to talk for hours is the greatest measure of love. It would be wrong to expect love to look one certain way. Most of our parents and grandparents did not go on candlelight dinners and perhaps the most romantic thing they ever said to each other was, “Have you eaten?” but that doesn’t mean they didn’t love each other deeply.      The fact that love has different expressions is one thing and the fact that everyone needs love is another. I believe that everyone needs love in order to feel fulfilled.      We search for it in our jobs, in our faith, in our community service, in our romantic relationships, in our children, in our friends, everywhere. We don’t even know if it exists, but we instinctively hope for it. Isn’t that the biggest mystery of life?      And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. (1 Corinthians 13:13 NIV)        But, if this is true, what is love?     Love is… I was dating a guy, once. Nice guy, really sweet, etc. One day, out of the blues, he said he loved me.      Ha.      We were just hanging out as usual, nothing special had happened. So what, I liked him, too – maybe even a lot. Maybe I had even told him that he was the best boyfriend ever. It’s possible that I had told him I cared about him and I was really happy with him. It’s likely that I enjoyed spending time with him, too, that my face lit up every time his name popped up on my phone, that I ran to hug him whenever we hadn’t hung out in a few days as if he was returning from the battlefront, or something. And so? Is it just that little affection that warranted this declaration? I mean, love?      I sat there, o. I didn’t know what to say. I think I hugged him and made a weird sound, something like, “aww”. I mean, I didn’t want to be rude and say thank you. What was a girl to do?      The moment was ruined. There was no salvaging this mess. He dropped me at home. I panicked, was he going to break up with me because of this?! See, this was exactly why we didn’t need to get into all this love, stuff; why ruin a perfectly happy relationship with such a wrecking ball of an announcement? Who asked you, sir? Why couldn’t you keep it to yourself?      I didn’t want to lose him and I didn’t want to hurt him and I could not say I loved him, back. I had to find a way to do something about this… situation.      “But we have talked about this, ehn,” I said to myself as I paced in my room.      And we had. I had let him know very clearly that I believed that saying the L word was essentially a marriage proposal. We were quite young so I’d said that to scare him a bit, make him really take his time and watch his words around me; just because we were lovey-dovey didn’t mean we were in love or anything like that. I didn’t allow myself to consider that he might have been fully aware of what he was saying.      “Impossible. We’re not there, yet,” I convinced myself, but I still didn’t know what to do to contain this love-leak.      “What is love, sef?” I asked, angrily.      I didn’t know, but I was a Destiny’s Child fan and I remembered that Michelle had quoted a bible verse in one of their outros, and the verse talked about love, so I looked it up:      Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no account of wrongs. Love takes no pleasure in evil, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails. (1 Corinthians 13:4-8 Berean Study Bible)        Well, this was a problem. My guy was patient and kind. He wasn’t proud or rude or selfish. What was all this?      Then he called me, disappointed by my lack of response.      I argued, “Listen, it’s not that I don’t care about you, it’s just that I think that word is really strong. What does it even mean? Is it, like, a strong like you feel? Maybe not quite love…”      “You can’t really tell me what I feel,” he started, and, of course, he was right. And angry.      So I said, “Wait, so I went to look up love. First Corinthians. And I realise you are all these things to me. I really care about you, I may even feel it back, I just can’t say it. Is that okay? Can you understand?”       “Wow,” he said, speechless, “First Corinthians, huh.”      I didn’t realise what I had just admitted to, but he did.        As I looked back at this experience, I see one glaring signpost that points to fear. I was so afraid. I didn’t know I was. I was afraid that love was an illusion, that it didn’t last, that it didn’t mean anything. I was afraid that someone could say they loved you, today, and hurt you, tomorrow. I was afraid that love meant that I would want to be with one person for the rest of my life, and that he would have the license to hurt me for the rest of my life and I would be stuck there, unable and, perhaps, even unwilling to leave, because I loved him so much.      Love was so fickle, too; well, the word was. I believed that true love was special and rare; yet, everyone kept throwing the word about as if it had no weight. Real love, I was certain, was a heavy, weighty thing that pulled on you like the center of gravity until you could only be with the one, singular person in the world that you loved. And in the same way you can only ever have one center of gravity, I believed you could only ever truly love one person.      I thought I had felt that way, once, but the guy had lied to me and so I decided that it had just been my imagination and I kept it moving. I even made up a quote, something like, “You can only have you heart broken once; every other time, it was your pride.”        As dramatic as my definition of love is (I mean, the center of gravity?) the funny thing is that it’s sort of true. It is a hundred percent true about God and, if God is Love, then it is also true about love. However, it is not at all true about romantic feelings – which we sometimes call love.      The problem is that we often mix up our desire for God’s love with our desire for romantic love. God’s Love is the center of gravity of our entire lives: it is in Him and because of Him that we are alive, it is because of Him that we can experience life, good health, thriving careers and even romantic love, and it is because of him that we have such distinct and diverse personalities, preferences, desires, appearances and identities.      Romantic love is one of the many expressions of love that we can experience, but it is not the only expression of love there is. In fact, there is a different expression of love that is tied to every one of our major relationships.      There’s the love of a mother. It is similar to, but different from the love of a father. There’s the love of a sibling, which is similar to, but different from the love of a close friend. There’s the love of a colleague, of a mentor, of a minister in church, and on and on. For every aspect of life, there is a relationship. For every relationship, there is an expression of love or, let’s use the word, “value”, that can be experienced. Each one of those contact points is an opportunity to experience love in a different way.      Culture and society tend to dismiss the necessity of love outside of the family. If you’re not related and you’re not dating, it is almost seen as childish to expect value and love from any other relationships, but I believe that human beings were wired to need love – both to give and to receive it – from every major human contact point.        I believe Love can be defined as Value: the value God places on us, the value we place on ourselves and the value we place on the people around us.      Value is measured by sacrifice. In Economics there’s the concept of the Opportunity Cost, which is defined as “the loss of other alternatives when one alternative is chosen.” If you choose to take up a 9-5 job in Bank A, you have given up the potential of the job in Bank B. If you choose to date Person A, you have given up the potential of Person B. When you make choices like that, you factor in all the alternatives and decide that this one thing is worth them all.      “…The Kingdom of Heaven is like a pearl merchant on the lookout for choice pearls. He discovered a real bargain—a pearl of great value—and sold everything he owned to purchase it!” (Matthew 13:45-46 TLB)      Choosing the pearl meant giving up everything he owned. He sacrificed “everything he owned” to buy one pearl – that was the value he placed on the pearl.      We don’t always recognise or accept the value God places on us – and in us – but it’s there, regardless. He gave up His life in exchange for ours – that means He is saying our lives are as valuable as His. That is what “for God so loved the world…” means. He values us as much as He values His own life.      Because we struggle to accept the value God has placed on us, we struggle to value ourselves. We neglect our physical and mental health, we don’t like our bodies, we don’t value our gifts and talents, we compare ourselves to others and feel unworthy. However, because we are innately worthy – as in, we are made of God, made from God and made for God, we are valuable and worthy whether we realise it or not – therefore we constantly keep feeling like there must be more to life. That hunger, that desire, that search for meaning, it comes from a place of believing that we were meant for more. We don’t always know what that “more” looks like, we still struggle with insecurity and shame, but something in us continues looking for value, love, affirmation from something.      That something is the feeling of being incomplete that many of us singles feel.      We think we’re looking for love. We think we’re lonely because we’re not in committed relationships. We think the tears and the frustrations and the repeated heartbreaks are the problem, that the companionship that comes with marriage is the solution.      We are wrong: the reason we feel incomplete is that we have not learnt to value ourselves, to love ourselves, to affirm ourselves.      We want other people to love us so that we’ll finally believe that we are worthy of love, but it doesn’t work. You can’t love someone enough if they don’t love themselves first.      If you’ve ever been in a relationship where you gave and gave and gave but it was never enough for the other person, it’s because you were pouring your love into someone who didn’t believe they were worthy of love, so they either couldn’t receive your love or they couldn’t reciprocate it. These dysfunctional situations come up a lot in relationships when we are not confident in our worth.      Here are a few Dysfunctional Love Languages to look out for: Scenario 1: The Needy Lover      This person needs you all the time. “Why do you like me?” “Why haven’t you called me?” “Where are you?” “I thought we were going to hang out!” “Please don’t leave me.” “Tell me again, why you like me?”      At first it feels nice to be needed and wanted so much, but in the end you feel drained. It’s never enough. You can do everything for them and they’ll still feel like you don’t love them enough.      The love you’re pouring into them is draining out through them like water in a sieve.   Scenario 2: The Brick Wall      This person barely communicates, doesn’t want to address issues, deflects when you try to get deep. They may be very physically expressive, intensely sexual, that sort of thing; but it’s hard to get them to express their feelings, because they don’t allow themselves to acknowledge that they have any.   Scenario 3: The Over-Lover      This person does everything and more. They give their life for the one they love – even when it is clear that it’s not reciprocated.      “Just give me a chance; I can love you enough to prove myself to you.” “I know you’re not ready to commit, but I will love you so much that you’ll realise you want to be with me.”      They take on every fault, dismiss every mistake and apologise for the other person’s wrongdoing because it is important for them to be the most loving and most forgiving.      They give love with the hopes that it will prove that they’re worthy to receive love.   Scenario 4: The Vampire      This person drinks up all the love they get – and doesn’t feel the need to reciprocate. They are excellent at receiving love and they know how to extract it when they want it. They are confident about their ability to get love and pride themselves on it, but they don’t feel the need to give love.   The principle of love in the bible depicts the idea of being filled up until we overflow, so that we have enough to give without emptying ourselves.      Needy Lovers don’t have the capacity to hold on to love: they’re more like baskets than buckets.      Brick Walls are like buckets turned upside down: they cannot receive; love bounces off them.      Overlovers are constantly draining themselves; pouring themselves out in the hopes that they will be able to convince someone else to pour back into them.      Vampires take what they need and stop there – they don’t need any overflow because their focus is on themselves.        This is a good place to pause and assess: which one are you? Thank you for reading this free excerpt of, "How To Be Single"! If you enjoyed this, please spread the word: let everyone know that Omotayo is giving out freebies and please share the registration link with them so that I can send them their own free excerpt! Google docs registration: https://forms.gle/VQDppPg4Rzc4JR2V9 If you want MORE of the book, I'm glad! It's available in e-book and paperback format ALL OVER THE WORLD on Amazon (UK, US, Canada, and all the other Amazons all over the world as well 😄!) You can also get an ebook copy on Okadabooks! You can also order copies from Roving Heights in Nigeria (but I'm not sure they can deliver in this lockdown. Follow my Instagram Page for updates!)

----------------------------- "How To Be Single" started as a weekly live chat on the author's Instagram platform, helping single people navigate the pressures that come with being single in the Nigerian society. It continues in that theme in its iteration as a book, addressing everything from dealing with desires, overcoming heartbreak, managing pressure and learning from mistakes - to help the reader recover a sense of value and confidence that will help them thrive even as they hope for commitment. Written in Memoir style, it follows the author's 10 year season of singleness and is filled with humorous stories, heartbreaking experiences and, most importantly, lifelong lessons for singleness and beyond. It was written by Omotayo Ajoke Adeola, (she calls herself Firecatcher: a Light that helps others find their own Light.) She works as a Writer, Producer and Content Creator, and has experience in film, TV, radio, advertising, fashion, education, art and digital marketing. Omotayo studied English at the University of Lagos and has a Masters in Writing from the University of Warwick, for which she bagged a Distinction. "How To Be Single" is her first published book.

You Are...

You are Strong. You are fearless. You are loved. You’ve always been... you just forgot.

Everytime life threw a new curveball you thought it was an attack; you thought it was a test that you couldn’t pass because you weren’t strong enough. You thought you failed. You thought it was unfair because God should have known you weren’t strong enough.

But you didn’t fail.
You can not fail.
It is not possible.
You were born a winner; it’s just that you have forgotten.
Every time life threw you a curveball it was because you could catch it.
When you couldn’t catch it, you could dodge it.
When you couldn’t dodge it you could get through it.
When you couldn’t get through it, you could carry it.
You are that strong.
You’re still here, reading this: that’s because you have gone through the ones before and you will get through this, too.
It’s not by accident; you didn’t survive by chance.
It wasn’t luck, it was YOU:
You ARE strong! You ARE fearless! You ARE loved! You ARE powerful!
Whatever it is, it can’t destroy you. You are made of the indestructible fabric of the breath of the Creator! You can’t even die, you can only evolve into a truer form. You are free, nothing can overpower you. Nothing can keep you down.

Remember that, today.

We Need To Talk.

My uncle called me after he saw this video: “We need to talk.”😅

He was worried that I was putting myself out there, too much. “I don’t want you to be the poster-child for singleness,” he said.
I assured him that I actually like the idea of marriage and even desire it for myself.

When I told my family the title of the book, my mum said, “You will not be single!”
But I already am, mummy 😂

“Single” is not a dirty word.
You can love love and also enjoy singleness - and not just the instagram-slay-get-the-bag, motivational-speech type of enjoyment, I mean you can really be content and happy and also admit that you desire a fulfilling committed relationship. It doesn’t have to be one or the other, sis!

I talk very vulnerably about my single life and how I have grown to understand that I can be Whole while I’m Single in my book, How To Be Single (@howtobesingle.book on Instagram.)

If this resonates with you in any way, please get a copy from:
1. Amazon US 🇺🇸
2. Amazon UK 🇬🇧
3. Amazon Canada 🇨🇦
4. Roving Heights (N5,500= only!) (Online Bookstore. Delivery all over Nigeria) 🇳🇬🌍
5. Quintessence Gallery, Ikoyi, Lagos (Nigeria) 🇳🇬
6. Okadabooks (ebook only) 📲

 

PS: This live interview aired on Feb 14 2019 and @howtobesingle.book was released exactly a year later!

Many thanks to @oliveemodi @wazobiamax for hosting me!

God Doesn't Speak English

😅 Or, should I say, English is not God's first language. That's why you "hear" Him in an impression in your heart; you feel Him in a nudge. You see His instructions in pictures. When you hear a melody you can burst into tears.

... God speaks Spirit, and everybody has one, and everybody hears God. We're just used to valuing language over Spirit. But every nudge is God speaking in a Language that can't be misinterpreted by words, by arguments.
Listen to it.
Listen to Him.
... And because English is not His first language, you don't need articulate sentences to communicate with Him. He understands your sighs, your moans, your tears. He understands your dancing, your laughter, your hands, raised high in the air. He can read the expression on your face clearer than any eloquently written speech; the heaviness in your heart louder than any masterfully worded prayer session.
So... speak to Him.
He understands the things you don't know how to put into words.

How To Be Single: My Book is Here!

THIS IS NOT A DRILL! OMG😱

"How To Be Single: The Definitive Guide to Singleness" is out!!!

I wanted it to be out on Valentine’s Day. I wanted to have a small launch, an event for my fellow singles so that we would have something to do on the day and not feel too lonely.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t get copies printed quick enough, but thank God for the Internet! I was supposed to wait to announce tomorrow but I COULD NOT WAIT 😅😅😅 I haven’t even told my family members it’s out, yet; I’ve just been here screaming on Instagram!

This book - look! Listennnn! Sigh.
Please buy it, read it, share it, let it get TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH. I really do believe that it is THE definitive guide to Singleness.

You can get it from:

1. Amazon US 🇺🇸
2. Amazon UK 🇬🇧
3. Amazon Canada 🇨🇦
4. Roving Heights (N5,500= only!) (Online Bookstore. Delivery all over Nigeria) 🇳🇬🌍
5. Quintessence Gallery, Ikoyi, Lagos (Nigeria) 🇳🇬
6. Okadabooks (ebook only) 📲

Yayyyy!