‎I love being a woman..

‎‎I love painting my features to any character I want to become

‎I love playing dress up like I'm my own life-sized doll

‎I love the bond sisterhood creates

‎I love femininity

‎I love the authenticity in being who I am.

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But no one understand a woman's pain more than a woman...

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‎I hate the way we've been fabricated like puppets to play with,

‎With society's bars put in front of us.

‎I hate hypnosis we’ve all fell into

‎Following a rulebook, brainwashed.

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‎I hate the way we were raised believeing we should fit into society's box

‎I hate the way women believe they are lesser than who God created them to be

‎Second-class citizens that glaze the feet of those who believe they have a greater say in our story

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‎I want to burn that box,

‎I want tear it down and smell the ashes,

‎Because it's my own form of victory.

‎I want women to grow up knowing who they are for who they are

‎I want women to scream whenever it feels fit for them

‎Cartwheel and fly because who they are is ultimately limitless.

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‎I want to rev my chainsaw and rip apart the standards that ask, "Where is your femininity?"

‎Into tiny uncountable pieces

‎Until it remains nothing but grains.

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‎But I'll still arrange my dress anyway,

‎Fix my hair,

‎Wear my makeup and go back into my cage,

‎Because after all,

‎A woman isn't meant to show her rage.

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I just finished watching Soul, a Disney Pixar movie. ‎It was incredibly beautiful and it changed my perspective on living.

Joe Gardener, the main character, has always been waiting for a life-defining moment before he could say, “I made it”, before he started living. He always thought that once he got this, he could do that and never believed his life started till he achieved his dreams, but life is way more than the monotony you trap yourself in just because you believe you have to wait for the next big thing when it's staring right in front of you.

‎Dream big and plan for the future, but don't let your plans be your reason to live or the pillar for your worth instead of living in the future, live in the moment, because we never know when we are going to pass away, so why not consciously live everyday in the little or big ways we can.

‎The little things like eating with our loved ones, getting closer with God, going for a meaningful walk, listening to your favourite song, learning new hobbies or rediscovering old ones, spending more time with family and more all  fuel our soul and give us more reasons to be grateful and to live.

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‎Get out of that loop of work, eat sleep, rinse and repeat and go touch some grass life is way bigger than the monotony❤️.

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My goals sat tight in their little space

‎Roaming young ideas,

‎Waiting to be cleared

‎They passed time rearranging for others,

‎Making room for new comers.

‎They wanted ease,

‎To have a taste of reality,

‎So they banged hard at the door of my mind,

‎Yelling, "Don't leave us behind!"

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‎Determination had me searching for the key,

‎although lost, still found myself facing one direction only

‎Shoulders high, chin up, no slouching,

‎Clearing each track,

‎Filling any potholes,

‎Ready to race with each goal.

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‎But procrastination couldn't care less,

‎Wanted to win the race but couldn't take the stress,

‎"Go take a rest" it said,

‎Giving me an ice-pack for my head

‎Rest felt almost sinful

‎Because the thought of moving was heavier than even trying to.

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‎Time sat at the centre,

‎Judging me at my little corner

‎Showing no emotion through it all

‎It tiptoed over my messy schedule

‎Marking each task I didn't do.

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‎Pressure and control,

‎Each took their place on my shoulders,

‎Right and left,

‎Weighing which one was heavier as each stepped,

‎Control whispered, "It has to work out"

‎Pressure yelled "You have to do better", without a doubt.

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‎I watered where I had planted,

‎Carefully pruned each garden,

‎Uprooted any weeds,

‎Monitoring each growing.

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‎For some reason 

‎Life couldn't reach me,

‎It jogged closer but i was too far from the beginning,

‎Although miles away from its front door

‎It managed to see all i had done

‎Rather confused, it asked, "What are you planning for?"

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‎I locked the door

‎Threw away the key

‎Quit the race

‎And left the garden finally.

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‎Moving at my own pace,

‎I walked through life's front door

‎And knew i had been here before,

‎Realizing I was preparing for a life

‎I didn't know I was already living in.

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We don't talk about the beauty we hold enough

‎How we were carefully put together,

‎Brick by brick in no rush

‎Yet we try to fix and adjust ourselves,

‎To our own liking and taste

‎When we are literally made in God's own image,

‎A priceless gift that can neither be exchanged nor replaced.

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How can you look in the mirror and not like what you see?

‎All the scars and flaws you carry,

‎The mistakes and lessons that tally,

‎The challenges you've faced

‎Have all formed your story of grace.

‎You're not formed polished to perfection,

‎But you are fearfully and wonderfully made

‎A true mosaic of survival.

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‎So why do we seek for validation?

‎A stamp of approval and confirmation

‎From all sides, angles and corners

‎In a world full of sinners.

‎After all God didn't give us requirements

‎He didn't set standards, forcing them to be met

‎His Word remains saying,

‎'Come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest'

‎He never said come at your best

‎Or when you are fixed and all dressed,

‎But come to me in which ever state you are whole, empty or tired

‎And I will give you what you have desired,

‎Peace and rest.

‎So why do we still search for accreditation?

‎When He has made us enough,

‎Every single one of His creation.

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‎The biggest form of disrespect you can ever get,

‎Is from not valuing or seeing your worth yet

‎When you are a testimony that beauty and strength have met,

‎Not resisting, but coexisting.

‎God's love and self-love are one of the realest forms of love you will ever get,

‎So why misuse or neglect it?

‎Thrive with who you are

‎A work in progress,

‎A testimony of success,

‎And an epitome of resilience.

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My reflection mirrored something I’ve been trying to understand

Because it's been operating without a command

Running, knowing I've only learnt how to walk

Fast forwarding without a pause

So I tried to match it's game

But nothing felt the same.

My legs felt longer than I could understand

My voice fell into a bass, unplanned

Whether or not this was growth, I couldn't say,

Because my body felt different from what my mind could take.

My hair wasn't long enough,

And I didn't like how my teeth looked scattered and rough

So I smiled differently to fix that

And decided to wear more hats.

I hid what I didn't like

Hoping I would look better in pictures,

Because no one really like those features.

My friends often told me I was introverted,

But I didn't see myself that way

Sometimes I just don't have much to say,

So I tried to put myself out there

And be different from who they knew,

Without a clue, I was putting on a performance

And creating an identity that wasn't true.

So I asked myself, as if I were someone else,

"Who are you?"

As simple as the question was, I didn't have a clue.

I tried a lot of things but nothing really fit,

Or felt just for me.

It felt like a hidden switch was on,

And I was aware of too many things at once

For some reason it couldn't turn off,

Because that's not how it works.

Even though I was still considered as a kid

I wanted to go back to my childhood,

At least those were the times I understood

Still grieving the simplicity,

Standing in between innocence and maturity

It introduced itself as Puberty.

Some conversations happen to late.

My 2 am thoughts knew my nightly ritual,

Because they were second-to-last on my register,

Composed of possibilities,

They constructed their own world of what-ifs and what it could have been

Leaving me second-guessing until I found myself drifting.

I would’ve sworn it was an illusion,

When I heard the first ring,

The thoughts extended a bridge from their city,

Calling through my line from an unknown reality,

It vibrated again with another ring,

As if to justify it was true,

As I answered, I ultimately knew

Because the voice at the other end registered too fast.

A stranger now, I would have called a sister then,

Her voice sounded raspy, a bit fragmented,

But I remembered it always as airy and animated.

She skipped the whole introduction,

As if she knew what I wanted,

Only an explanation.

Just a reason,

Or some sort of closure,

Why everything ended the way it did?

Like it would have turned out differently.

But the reasons felt like echoes to a distant part of me,

An older version that would do anything just to hear it,

And understand each one and why.

At the same time, it was a betrayal to who I had become now,

Because it mirrored images of me, I now don’t allow.

So just for courtesy,

I listened,

But knew I was detached,

And remained between unbothered and concerned,

Because all her reasons were for the wrong person.

She finished,

But the silence at my end spoke louder than anything she had said.

“Thank you”, I replied

And ended with a “Goodbye”, to cut the line.

I've always believed God's eyes are on me,

Watching,

Observing,

Looking over patiently,

Through His multiple rose coloured lenses,

Ticking and crossing out my chances,

After I switch from samaritan to rebel just in one glance.

So how can He really know me,

When He has only seen the front cover?

Just the title and preface,

I refuse to believe He knows what's under,

After all, He only sees from the outside to engage.

Because all my intrusive thoughts,

Virtues and vices,

Guilty pleasures,

And unfiltered personality,

All stay indoors,

So how can God really know much,

When He is looking through closed doors.

But isn't He the Creator?

The designer,

The painter,

Aren't we the creation?

His design,

His painting,

Then it made sense,

Because I've been reading Him through the wrong lens.

He knows us,

Just like a painter knows his painting,

Why he chose that brush to start,

And colour for a specific part,

Why he dimmed some areas,

And chose contrast for others.

A designer knows his pieces,

How he tailored them to be,

Why he didn't chose a particular stitch to begin,

And why he decided to add beads and linen.

So beyond the front cover,

He knows why He added a specific font for me,

Sharper ink for my personality,

And thicker pages because He is sure of who I'm going to be.

Safe and sound it seems,

As it smiles and welcomes me,

It introduces itself as my comfort zone,

With a chillingly warm tone,

Keeping me relaxed it says,

"Enjoy your stay"

Giving me all I’ve ever wanted,

A feeling I've forever hunted.

Recurrent and persistent it chimes in,

Almost always at the perfect timing,

Keeping me in one place,

Freeing me from any rat race,

But little did I know,

I wasn’t going down the right road.

Disguising itself as paradise,

It kept me in oblivion before I could realize,

I was stuck in an endless loop,

Trapped,

Stagnant,

Masking itself as comfort,

Giving me legs without support,

All in the name of familiarity,

It sold my trust for similarity.

It felt secure however,

To hold onto what I knew better,

But it keeps you static,

Without any dynamic.

Outside our comfort zone may seem scary,

And unsure,

But it's the only way to move,

After all change is what initiates growth,

So isn't it better too chose both?

So now I'm learning how to walk again,

To move over this loop,

To leave that same old place,

Just because it was an habitual space,

Because my worst enemy,

Concealed as my closest friend was right there,

Watched me fall sick while it hid the only remedy,

I may be walking blindly in a new place,

Unsure of what I will face,

But at least I'm moving anyway,

One step closer to where I needed to be everyday.

Originally published on Medium:

https://medium.com/@chloegbuji/growth-over-comfort-9ea2b6161129

Squeezing my wrists,

So stubborn I can't persist,

Digging its fingers deep,

Nowhere to escape,

No space to slip,

Tugging me back to square one,

Back to the memories of it all.

But I say, “No”,

Choosing to stand my ground, I yell,

"I'm not that easy you know"

But it doesn't listen anyway,

That old smell,

That one familiar song,

Triggers them, calling all out like a bell,

With just one thought carrying all along.

Like a blast from the past,

I'm ruminating on what used to be,

Trying to re-live each moment,

While coming to terms with reality,

Truth is no matter the attempts,

It is what it is,

And we can't re-live those past moments.

So I'll appreciate what is to come,

And honour what has gone,

Because at the end we are all living in future nostalgia,

That will one day be reminisced by another.

In the midst of it all,

I'll live for the present,

No matter how loud the past calls,

Not forgetting,

But treasuring the euphoria of everything,

I take my last trip,

And free myself from Nostalgia’s Grip.

We all struggle with balance and rhythm in our world today. So many societal issues circling around race, nationality, fianaces and gender. What we want is equality or some sort of balance, but we can't all have the same stories, can we?

This poem speaks on how we need to quit the comparison and embrace the beauty in our diversity. Life wasn' t constructed to be fair, but mixed and different.

We all struggle to grasp the imbalance of life,

Why some communities go through strife,

Hustling and pushing to survive,

While others have it easy and straight forward,

Everything rhyming in harmony,

No discord.

We try to achieve equality,

A stability in humanity,

To establish a balance in our societies,

From gender lines,

To other aspects we realize,

Nationality and race,

All secretly disguised

Showing our unsure fate,

With differences dressed in hate.

So, how do we accept the ugly truth

That everything can't be straight and aligned?

From elders to youth,

Not everyone will rhyme,

After all we live under the same sky,

With different stories that collide.

Truth be told,

Not everything can be warm and cold,

So leave all the comparisons,

You won't fully understand the reasons,

It only kills to compare,

Equality cannot reign across,

Because if life were to be fair,

We would have all died on a cross.