In between two columns on a shelf of books— sci-fi/ thriller. He’d pass a book over to me and with his eyes, dare me to open. I would have guessed what was about to happen so I’d get nervous. Really nervous.

The urge to run away would be overwhelming. I'd walk forward (away), he'd attempt to keep track with me, on the other side of the shelf. I'd take wider strides with my short legs and he'd stretch forward his long legs. Cheat!

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My heart thumping, I would return to my initial position and he would be right in my face, across the shelf, books covering his mouth and the upper book column keeping his forehead hidden...

Leaving only his eyes and nose, inches a book width apart from me. As if all he's supposed to do is fix his gaze on me while ‘smelling’ my antsy-ness.

Well, he is allowed to. He is such a fine man, my fine man. Smitten? Yes.

I'd think in my head, ‘this moment can't be real’; even after I've imagined it in my head a thousand times, even after it has made it to my Substack, even after HE has asked me for my favorite library in the world.

Since I can't instantly believe it, I'd fantasize I am in another world where Elend and Vin (Mistborn Series) are my companions. The only difference this time around is:

…

Luthadel City is no more filled with Ash, the sun no more burns black. It shines yellow, leaves have changed color from brown to green (Mare's dream has been realized) and in place of Kredik Shaw, we have an enormous library in which I'm standing right now.

I have a book in my hands and A My Noble is in front of me.

{You need to have read the mistborn series to understand the above, perfectly}

The smell of this book would waft through my nostrils as if taunting me to turn over the pages as soon as possible. But as usually patient as I am with books and words, I'd slowly inhale the scent of old wood and dust. The book would feel like a collection of letters but interestingly, it has no title.

I'd open the first page and it would be blank. Curiosity would take over and I'd flip to the next page. Indeed, it is blank as well. Except for the page numbers, I'd find no words until...

I reach the 185th page of this book.

The photochromic quality of my glasses would be rendered useless. I'd be struck by how dazzling this circle of a diameter, 1.5cm & circumference, 4.71cm is and how it does look priceless. The rock screams silently

And as if he can read my thoughts, he'd say, "you're worth more than this." 🥹

Oh, just beneath this ring is a quote he had earlier handwritten to describe our love. (No, I wouldn't be sharing that with you!)

I'd remain in awe for minutes, he'd be scared I'd forget about the ring and be lost in my imaginations as I usually do when I'm reading a fantasy.

I would bask in the magic of the moment and wonder how a man could possibly know just how to love me; h

How a man could dare to slightly disrupt the equilibrium of the library and propose to me in the waiting silence;

How the library would no longer be a place where I travel out of the earth but a place where I was rejoined with my beloved.

Footsteps would echo, readers would stare lightly at us and turn back to the trap of their books but I'd be lost in his eyes. He would laugh quietly, at first and be so happy. His grin so wide— I fear his facial muscles would break. He would only last a minute, though, and gently ease his wide grin into a smile. After five minutes, he would be left wondering if I'd practiced how to not blink when I stare. (I would later tell him I blinked whenever he did) He'd clear his throat after letting me go on like this for a few more minutes.

I'd be back in the library, close the book, hold it firmly in my hands, walk off briskly to the Librarian and plead with her to get everyone out of the library for a few minutes.

My man would look bewildered, what exactly is going on?

After the library is emptied, I'd walk to Rumi's section of the library, bring out "this book", open the section I've always wanted to read to my lover.

I'd cross over and walk up to him. Read it out loud in my quivering voice:

Then, I'd stretch out The Ring Book and before I lose my library-driven courage, open to that page and tell him to make us one.

I would see his eyes, glazed over. He is enraptured in the Rumi quote but he'll recover as soon as he places the ring around my finger and my eyes gets lost in his, once more.

A girl fell in love with the author of a book with no title.

~ TESS ❤️

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PS: I’d be back in 6 years or so with a picture of that library. Just Btw, the 185th day of the year is my birthday and the accurate guess of dimensions of the circle? Don't bother about it. 😂

Please, forgive the inconsistency of the tenses. Future tense is stressful abeg.

PPS: quote, unexpectedly, inspired this write up. I am glad I found it.

Here is my (mini) Presentation on why love at first sight is a lie that reflects the confusion of those who tell it.

Supervisor side-eyes & whispers

Ah, sorry ma. I tweaked the title so there's no attitude or perception. I forgot to send you the reviewed edition. I am Gen-Z ma & the title was gotten by one of the respondents in my research sample.

Supervisor becomes violent for no cause. Attempts to slap her last born’s age mate. Restrained and calmed gradually by other supervisees.

Kò le tó yẹn mà. 😭🤲🏾😂 (Translation: e no go far, mommy)

Skips acknowledgement, dedication, abstract and other research shenanigans.

Research was carried out on 9th July, 2026.

Population sample: 9 spinsters and 1 Bachelor; 10 respondents.

Qualitative research design; data collection via Whatsapp status— texts and voice notes.

Significance of study: To enlighten those who are in a relationship and others in the single hood; make them know why they should fall in love OR out of it.

To not bore you, especially if you're not the academic nerd, I'd get right into my juicy research now.

Here's the research question: Do you believe in love at first sight? Why? I got different responses but I could group my respondents into three qualitative segments.

Thematic Analysis.

✓ Delusional Idealists

✓ Metaphysical Synchronicists

✓ Rational Constructivists

(Thank God English language is flexible, how would I have created new words that made sense. 😭😂)

THE DELUSIONAL IDEALISTS

What amazes me about these guys is their confidence. Oh, sorry. This is a research paper.

Respondent 1: Claims there's love at first sight, first picture viewed & first phone call. She is serious! (She said so)

How did talking stage end? The way you graduated from secondary school— Looked forward to. Expected end (Hehe)

Respondent also said she has experienced love at first phone call before. The other human heard her voice and was lost in it. (I hope he has found himself now)

Respondent 2: Took break from exam prep. to give response. Intentional about this research than the researcher, I must say.

I have met several delusional romantics. This respondent is not but I'd just like to state this.

Usually, in movies/books, the characters are portrayed to fall in love with each other in an unrealistic manner. The movie was directed or the book written by a human.

(Respondents begin to whisper) Cricket sounds. Ohhhhh… God wrote your life’s story. Ehn ehnnn… so you can fall in love with that man's deep, husky voice?? Continue, baby. 😂

Data Analysis

Academic Diagnosis: High susceptibility to ambient background music playing in their own heads.

Core Belief: Love takes 0.2 seconds.

Empirical Mechanism (Female POV): Cinema house scenery, Books fall from your hands after a hit by this tall, dark & handsome man in a suit with only one thing on his to-do list (fall books down). Eyes locked. Love happens. Plans wedding.

Male POV: Head aching & eyes burning from academic warfare. Stress level heightened. Gets friend's phone to play e-football (your phone is low) but attention diverts to Gallery because pictures: food for soul. First picture is a fair skinned lady with the word “single” as tribal mark on both cheeks. Picture dazzling, your memory stores it in Urgent & Important folder so you get her contact info. Love unfolds.

Threat Level To Opposite Gender: Zero. Just peak delusion.

Recommendation: Sit down. You're about to do some real thinking. I'll help you.

Imagine this scenario in your head. Someone sees you. Looks at you head to toe. Falls in love with just what they see. Reduces your knowledge, skills, hobbies, strengths, ideals, suffer-ness (struggles to get a degree) to just ONE thing: beautiful/ handsome face. How would you feel?😭

Now, don't get me wrong.

It's absolutely okay to be admired. To be attractive and to be seen. What is NOT okay is to think that your attractiveness should be the only condition for being loved. (Sho make sense?)

Dear delusional romantic, REPEAT AFTER ME: There are more sides to me than these and I will be loved, rightly.

You’re welcome. ❤️

Predicted Response: No decline in delusion. Falls out of love talking stage after 3 working days / 48-hour shift.

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To the next respondent…

This one got me thinking about psychoanalytical theories. I have interesting respondents.

Supervisor whispers harshly

(Short attention span) She said I've reached my limit. Let's continue Tomorrow/ Tuesday.

~TESS❤️✨

How did my presentation go? 😂 Is it too late to change supervisor?

Happy First Sunday. Happy Augustttt.🎉

I stayed up all night to write this research oh. Y'all should reference (share) my work abeg. Tenks.

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PS: God bless all my anonymous respondents. A Big Shout out to you all.

Should I give you a brief overview/ memory refresh? (I hear ‘yes’) I will.

K- drama storytime (if you don't want, skip to below the next subscribe button).

I'll recount only the parts of the story relating to this post for brevity sake. (Sarry)

Main characters: Jang Uk, Mu deok (Nak su), Jin Mu.

The Alchemy of souls is a fantasy movie set in the country of Dae ho— a land of powerful mages who manipulate energy from the sky and surrounding waters. The story follows an elite assassin named Nak-su who, while mortally wounded, performs a taboo magic spell to save her life. Her spirit ends up trapped inside the frail, blind body of a servant named Mu-deok. Mu-deok soon becomes the secret master to a young noble mage, Jang Uk, hiding her deadly identity while training him to unlock his sealed powers.

You too like story, chai. Oya subscribe.

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THE ALCHEMY OF SOULS

Alchemy of Souls (Hwanhon-sul) is a spell that consists of 3 phases:

• Transmutation: Transforming one person’s body and identity into another.

• Cheating Death: Converting mortal life into artificial immortality through dark magic.

• Combining Elements: Fusing a soul with a foreign host body, changing the original nature of both.

End of story! (Read phases again to understand my love kinni) Tenks.

(I owe the next few paragraphs to my Chief, Carl Jung.)

The Real Alchemy Of Souls: What Happens When I (You) Fall In Love.

When you fall in love, you become a fool by a Nigerian’s definition. You are an Ode because you are not so logical anymore. You expose yourself to your lover— good sides, bad sides. What more foolish thing to do than that! (Maybe buy a Samsung A series on loan😭😂)

Well, maybe we all need to be this kind of foolish. 🥺

✓ Vulnerability: I trust my lover (friends) enough to let go of my defence mechanisms & show them almost all the sides to me. Here, my ego collapses, and I'm forced to face my Shadow—the repressed, or uncomfortable parts of myself (e.g. trauma, insecurity, arrogance) that I usually hide from the world.

✓ Reflection: When faced with the bad sides, I could feel the urge to run away but I’m smart so I'll stay, sit and reflect.

I begin to separate my true self from my shadow: my projections and past conditioning. I gain objectivity over my emotions. Consequentially, I gain clarity & insight.

✓ Rebirth: Nnkan to ma sele ni pe, ọ máa di Atunbi. Keyboard malfunction. Sorry, guys.😂

Inside my mind, there are conflicting forces at war with each other. “I will be reasonable not emotional.” What rebirth does? Show me it's unnecessary to pick a side. I should be logical while involving my emotions.

While physical alchemy transmutes raw materials into gold,

Love is an alchemy of soul that makes transformation occur in lovers; Reshaping them inside out.

Making them into the best versions.

Will you love, this weekend? Will you?

Let's meet on Sunday for interesting love convo.

~TESS ❤️✨

Before getting into the university, I can count on one hand the humans I've hugged. The only humans who constantly threw themselves on me are my younger sisters. 😭😂 (Don't take offence, guys)

I got into uni and the next thing I know someone is shaking hands and another is hugging. While speaking with my friend today, I told her I think there should be a legal distance between humans. Like you cross it and you can be reported, especially if you're not fam or friends with the person.

You see… for some of us, we just love to be. To enjoy conversations in silence and distance. To wave and smile. To communicate with eyes not skin.

As I write this, I remember an incident about a year ago where I was in our practical lab receiving lectures with my coursemates. The lecturer asked us to come out and check out a model. Goshh… I tried my best. I really did try to not let anyone touch me, especially because our uniform has a very short sleeve. Guess what guys?

Someone left their path. Walked into me. TOUCHED my upper arm. 😭😭😂 I won't describe how I felt. It was really interesting. What's funny is they didn't even know they did something wrong. It's not them. It's me.

Same last year… something happened. An author called it turning point.

HOW IT BEGAN.

I started to hug. I didn't initiate it but I accepted it. I have a friend who hugs me. She loves to. I think she has mastered the art of hugging. She doesn't just hold me in her arms, she embraces me. Gosh.

At first, I'd remain stiff and hug mechanically. 😭😂

If my friend knew I hugged badly, she didn't mention. Gradually, I eased into her hugs. It didn't bite. I hugged just her.

I started to hug others but I had a limit. 5 hugs in a day, maximum. I need me whole at the end of the day, pleaseee! I hugged people because I needed to, only. THEY seem to just enjoy hugging.

HOW IT'S GOING

How did I go from, “Respectfully, don't touch me.” To “Hi… (hugs) how are you doing?” Honestly, I can't explain.

I'd say my friend just really helped me. She was a familiar person and she hugs me whenever we see. So my brain just did some rewiring and I am happy to hug her.

After some time, I became excited enough to hug my friends. I went from waving to hugging. Before I blink my eyes & open, I became the campus lead for a female community in my university.

These lovely girls in the community would walk up to me and say, “Hi ma” Then, lean in for a hug. Oh, how could I turn them away?🥺

It was at that point I realized how much good my friend did me. To cut the long story short, I hug now. I hug the people I love to express my love for them.

I hug my girls because they're my girls.

And… I don't go to events where I get to hug so much acquaintance-strangers (people who always see me but don't know me). I avoid crowd, almost always!

Hugging is the process of opening your arms, allowing the other person hold you as you hold them for a few seconds and breathing in fresh air after ~ Tess.

That was my initial definition. Perhaps, you think that's it. I dare say there is more to hugging.

Beyond the everyday act, I think hugging is an intimate stuff. Human touch has a significant effect on mood. Here's what happens when you hug: (I'll be precise)

• When you open your arms wide (if you initiate the hug), your brain is already excited, looking forward to that brief period of chemical release.

• When they walk into your embrace, oxytocin is released from your brain pituitary gland. It’s the hormone that fosters feeling of trust and bonding.

• Your dopamine & Serotonin are also boosted. These neurotransmitters elevate your mood and uplifts you from any depressing state.

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If you don't know how to hug or you think it's just holding someone for 1,2,3… let go. Chaiii. Let me help.😂 (I can't believe I'm doing this)

HOW TO HUG

• Help your brain understand it is not mechanical. It's an art of intimacy. You need more than your arms. You need your whole body.

• If you don't like touch, wear a long sleeve for the first time you hug. To be forearmed is to be forehead àbí how do they say it?😭😂

• Open your arms wide, sideways. If you're taller, cross your arm over their shoulders. Shorter, slide your arms under the armpit or around waist. Same height? Do whatevs.

• Turn your head slightly to the side so it's resting on their shoulder. If you're shorter, please lift your chin up.

• Now, go ahead to wrap your arms around their back with your chests/torsos touching gently. Embrace them warmly and firmly. No, I didn't say cut off their breath, Shola. 🌚

• If, after a few seconds, they relax their hold or pat your back, it's your cue to let go & step back with a smile. And there you go, hug successful. ✅

The 20 Seconds Rule states that a hug needs to last around 20 seconds to trigger the maximum release of oxytocin and effectively lower blood pressure.

One thing I like about hugs: You get what you give.

Hug Someone today & tomorrow. It might be all you need to brighten up your day. Beyond the act of just holding, Hugging is an art that is mentally stimulating. ✨

~ TESS ❤️✨

Spain WON so I wrote. Thanks for reading.

PS: I didn't write this with African parents (or the aunties you meet at wedding ceremonies) in mind oh.

PPS: I still think there should be a legal distance kinni.

PPS: Thanks to Victoria who spurred the conversation on physical contact, today. 😂

Please, play “Fall in love” by Esua as you read. I tried but could not add the sound.

I had a crush on a man I met on LinkedIn. You know what? Hold my glass cup. Let me send him a message and tell him he finally made it to my substack. I'm kidding.

I will give you only the deets relating to this post.

LinkedIn was my safe space away from work (weird, maybe). I just really wanted to be better. I began a 50-day challenge. Wrote sense and beautiful ‘rubbish’. The goal is to show up and that I did. I got connections, followers and HE was one.

I don't know how or when it began. Actually, I know when.

It was when he slid into my DM on LinkedIn and outlined everything about him that could interest me. I still really admire that. Usually, LinkedIn users just send messages to say, “Hi, Thanks for connecting with me. Looking forward to a conversation.”

Y'all want to know he sent me? Here.

I was blown off. Finally! A real human. Thank you!

Someone who really wrote something. Not some organized LinkedIn template.

And guys that was all it took for my admiration to blossom. It was an admiration from afar.

Until… he started to add one more like to the 9 Likes on my post, perhaps react support to one and love to another. A comment here and there. A DM today and over morrow. “To check up on me”, he said. Oh… I believed him. He gradually became an acquaintance.

Due to loads of work, I left LinkedIn & the LinkedIn acquaintance behind. Got to do real life time work. Few months later, blew the dust off my Instagram account and guess who popped up in my face. Yea. Our LinkedIn Acquain.

No. He didn't stalk. IG suggested I follow him and I obeyed. All I did was Obey but you see this obedience kinni… it led to something even IG can't handle. Whatsapp had to interfere. I hope you get the gist.

Our guy, let's call him LA, is a thoughtful human. He writes as well. His thought process, as evidenced by his LinkedIn posts, is just beautiful and deep. So when I get a like from him, I know it's not just to make me feel better. It's because he can see exactly what I wrote, the mental work involved and deems it worthy of a reaction.

Skip skip skip

One day, during a conversation, I told him about something I did during my day and he called me a name I wasn't bold enough to call myself. A Leader. My brain was excited— firing neurons and all.😂

He sees how I do things, my fervor, passion, doggedness and doesn't just say, “Welldone”. He could say, “Olamide. You did a good job. You're a smart woman. You should take a break after this to perhaps reflect and come back better.”

You know how you pile everything you do into a stack and call it a to-do list from the routine quiet time through the Call Sola by 11:50 am before her presentation all to end with the meditate & plan next day for 30 minutes. Then, someone walks in and tells you how unusual your to-do list is; how it contains more service to others than to yourself; how intentional it is (unintended); how your resilience screams through that list.

You think, “Oh my… why is he/she flattering me?” And they tell you, “I'm being frank. Ask someone for their to do list tomorrow and they either do not have one or… it's more self-ish.”

It's one thing to do all the things you do. It's another thing to be seen. It's a whole lot to be seen and appreciated.

Side-note: Before I close the gist tab, he begins our conversations with “Hi Olamide” like he's trying to ascertain he's talking to Olamide. 🥺😂 No other human does that.

I want to be loved by a human who has eyes; sees me; likes what they see; is not feeling attacked but inspired. Someone who sees and honors me in factual appreciation of my works and not flattery. A human who carries nang and namoos in the way they hold me.

I want to be loved by someone who beholds me from afar, bridges the distance, sees my flaws, then, draws me in— fully embracing the complexities of who I am.

Let me explain what I mean. I read A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini on Friday and two characters piqued my interest. Laila and Tariq.

Both of them, young and smart, in deep likeness for each other (refusing to admit). Tariq lost a leg at the age of three (I think) and used prosthetic aids. Tariq told Laila he's one-legged when they were about 8 or so. She cried but stayed. At some point, Laila was teased and called “the girlfriend of the one-legged boy.”

She was not ashamed at any point. Gosh. Kids feel shame, a lot especially when pressured by their peers. Laila saw Tariq for who he is, beyond his prosthetic leg and loved him enough to be void of shame. If Tariq felt any shame, she took it all away with her love. And that's what I'm talking about.

I want to be seen and know that I am seen. I would tell Hagar’s story in the Bible and tell you how God saw her and she knew God saw her but… someone would tell me in the comments now that It's only God that can see me that way. 😭😂 And that's real.

I want to be loved in a way that slowly unravels me. Not just at first sight, but at second sight and at nth sight (till infinity). I want to be loved my someone who sees the acne below my right eye, the pimple on my nose, the cut lip, my shiny forehead, the quick pulse at my carotid artery, my bony clavicle yet, calls me breathtakingly beautiful.

I want to be loved by someone who sees me laugh my hyena-like laughter, sees me cry like a baby, sees me frown like an old dad, sees me excited like a 5-year old kid, sees me sneeze like a peacock and loves me because of all of that. Raw. Unfiltered. Not performative.

How does a peacock sneeze? I don't know. 😂

I want to be seen not just as someone with ṣùkú on her head, two hands & two legs: the way everyone sees everyone. I don't just want to be seen as a potential mother or as a suitable wife to a man as African parents see females. I want to be seen as a woman with ambitions, potentials and skill who has wings and will soar.

It's the same way Obinze saw Ifemelu in Chimamanda's Americanah, loving her because of her outspokenness, not despite it. Seeing her bluntness yet, loving her sharp tongue. Oh, they didn't have to speak. They were eloquent in silence. He saw her anxiety even when she tried to hide it.

I want to be seen as intensely passionate about the things I love… God, Books, Me, Humans. Nothing like “why is she like that? Is it not just…?”😭 Oh please! It's that and more.

If I was a man, I would want to be seen as something more than an ATM machine. To be seen for my true nature not my utility. (Reverts to male POV) To see his jokes, goofy sense of humor, hobbies, childlike enthusiasm and love all that. To see a man and be inspired by his strength. To see him as a man who wants to live & love. To NOT see him as a potential rapist/ hit man because of his six packs/bulging muscles.

Oh… To see humans for who they truly are. To see their flaws and perfections. To see their made up face and the tribal marks behind it. To see their light bank account and the struggles through being lapo-babied. To see a rich human and yet, see how needful of care they are. To see a fulfilled babe and the strict rules they abide by.

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You know that GOtv slogan. Live it. Love it. I can infer from that slogan that life and love are deeply connected. Living is loving. If you have not loved, you have not lived.

How exactly do you want to be loved? Define it. Begin by loving yourself that way.

It's hard??

Watch God do it. Titus 3:4-7, John 3:16. Follow in his steps.

~ TESS ❤️✨

End of How I want to be loved series, guys. Anticipate a single piece on Wednesday before the next love series.

I think I'm in my love era, guys.🤭 If Spain wins tonight, expect a stack tomorrow.😂 I didn't state the team I'm supporting oh.

When they seem unrelenting after several corrections, I add them to this list and just ignore them.

I'd like to tell you about one of these men. Let's say his name is XY. Broda found a picture of me, glowing in the sun, on my friend's phone. He asked my friend for my number and got it. Proceeds to send a message.

I won't go into too much details. XY told me he saw my picture, ‘complimented’ me and asked for my state of origin (not my name) WITHOUT INTRODUCING HIMSELF!

I had to request for an introduction and guess what? He didn't ask me anything about myself. He just cooked up something in his head along the lines of “beautiful nurse”. Now, do not think I assumed because you'll get evidence.

Uhm… He would not like to know my name but my state of origin. After which he spoke about loving pounded yam and nurses. I guess he thinks both are meant to be devoured.

I won't tell you how I feel. Not yet.

In this second exhibit, he went straight to business. Y'all would agree it’s okay to feel what I felt here. Repulsion.

You know nothing about me. You didn't care to know my name. You saw my picture, found out I'm a nursing student and asked that I give you myself (Style yin máa tún yatọ keh😭😂).

Thank God for the death & resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ. I had a piece of my mind that I'd have given him but I replied curtly and ignored him.

This XY would not take more space in this stack than he has taken!

After this whole episode, I knew there was a difference between a human who wants to know you deeply and another who knows he/she just wants your body.

.

Y'all heard when God said he knows me before I was formed in my mother's womb. Righttt? I think he raised the bar high!

Knowledge is a love language.

It is spoken in the sitting still of two different souls, breathing in harmony, thinking about whatever, turning to look at each other at the same time, eyes gazing intently; not finding the words, laughing and easing again into silence.

It is spoken in the morning texts, “Uhm… you'd most likely not cook today because you don't like to. However, you should get some beverage into your system.”

And the night DMs, “Are your meetings over now? I think you should sleep early.” All of these without sharing my to-do lists with you.

It is spoken when you see me doing something that is not-so-cool, you mention but I ignore because I have this “coconut head” but ermm… you are prepared for my rant session later with no sprinkle of “I told you so”.

It is spoken in the few words of prayer muttered— in a language men don’t understand— to the creator of this girl, requesting he opens the eyes of your understanding and show you how best to love this human.

Knowledge is the beginning of devotion. You cannot stay committed to me if you don't know me. Without knowledge, it won't be love. It would be infatuation: loving the idea of me. Filling your head with fantasies. Easy and shallow. Knowing me would require you to stay. To stay long enough to choose me.

It is seeing the vulnerable side of me, treating it with care and helping me know that I can trust. THIS love language requires you to be humble enough to want to learn about someone who is not you, relieving you of your ego.

In the process of learning, you gain a wider perspective about life. You learn cultures, beliefs, ideals unknown to you but you accept them because they're of great significance to me.

It is also knowing that beyond the profession, titles, roles, awards, physical qualities, I am just a human being with ground state energy level who speaks in a deep baritone voice when awakened from sleep.

This knowledge of me involves more than listening to me and taking notes when we hold conversations. It is observing what is peculiar to me; the things I don’t say. It is knowing my definition of success & blossoming passion for politics; knowing all shades of me and finding them needful of love.

I think that people who take extra steps to know me beyond my likes and dislikes are really intentional. I mean there are billions of other humans to talk to, zillion activities to engage in… YET, you want to know me.

To love me is to know me; to see me before I enter the room because you hear those unique, hurried footsteps. To know me the way primary school kids know the multiplication table & nursery school kids, A - Z. No, it’s not effortless!

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You can re-play the music if it has ended.

To know me without having to touch me; To desire to know my soul before my body. To know my fears, habits, dreams, triggers and boundaries. Oh! To know me deeply.

To know that wide grin when I have completed a task and the fake smile I put on when I'm stressed out.

I can't even imagine doing life without anyone who really knows me; Who knows that I can be a ‘hard girl’ but I cry each time I watch the movie “Clouds” or listen to it on Spotify.

Another human who knows I'm more excited to watch a movie with my friends than watching it alone. Someone who knows my e-book library is more arranged than the files stored in my head.

TO HAVE THIS KNOWLEDGE YET, WIELD IT WISELY, IN MY FAVOUR.

This love language will grant you leverage but you would speak it as a privilege to honor the loved one, to make them feel safe.

Author’s note: I hope that you find that human who knows and loves you (if you have not). Either ways, there is a deity who knows and loves you wholesomely.❤️

~TESS ❤️✨

PS: Every ‘I’, ‘me’ & ‘myself’ is impurely fictional. Do not think you can find your way into a man/woman's heart only through his/her stacks. You would have to do way more!

.

How did I do y'all?😭😂 You've gotten to the end, yet again. Let me know your thoughts in the comment box.

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Such a profound human act: giving.

But you know what? There's a better way to be loved. It's the way I want to be loved.

I was in Ss2— the chapel prefect girl— when this particular boy wrote a letter to me. We were in the chapel, where the choristers sit. I was trying to stay awake through the service (overnight reading things) when someone tapped me.

I was hoping it was not another call to double as an usher and keep students awake. Well, it wasn't.

But… this wasn't better.

Someone tapped me and presssed into my hands a thing with a rough texture and I figured it was paper. I thought, “oh, a note from a friend” until I read!

This is the point where you subscribe.

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It went along the lines of,

I felt two different emotions:

The first was mild anger in “who are you? Who said you can like me and declare that to me? The guts… Mtcheeew” 😭😂

I was such a hard & not-so-likeable girl.

The second was an emotion I can't explain. I felt it deeply when I walked up to him and held the conversation (no details, please 😂). I made a new discovery of myself.

I can be loved, romantically. What a knowledge.

I have pondered and given so much thought to this and other incidents and here's what I now know.

I want to be loved in a way that I discover novel things about me. I know I love books but I want to be loved as a fictional character. The kind that lives rent free in your head. The one you don't stop rambling about.

You're on a bus, you suddenly remember me & you smile. Your imaginations of me overwhelm your reality. To you, I seem too good to be real but fortunately, I'm real.

I want to be loved the way Elend loved Vin in the mistborn series. The way Elend made her know she can fight but she doesn't have to. Vin could let down her defence around him and she's safe. I want to be loved safely yet, boldly.

I want to be loved enough to forget about penance. To know that I can be loved without having ever to work it out. And that if I choose to stop accepting this love, there would be no terrible comeback.

I want to be loved such that I know that you are my soulmate. I can wake up one day and say I know someone who can say to me, “for you, a thousand times over” and mean it.

Oh yea, I want to be loved the way Hassan loved Amir even till the point of death. I want you to fly my kite for me and urge me to do it more. In the kite runner, I wonder what Hassan must have ‘eaten’ that made him swear such fealty to Amir. I want to be loved, loyally.

I want to be loved in mails and letters and words.

I want to be loved despite screaming in the cinema, shouting my friends’ names and waving at them furiously when I pass by them on a bike, hating on meat, loving the dark & ranting about books non-stop.

I want to be loved despite all these and because of these.

I want to be loved the way banana peel loves banana. Always keeping it safe, protected and warm. I imagine the banana peel whispering to the banana, “Oh darling, it’s time for a great reveal. Be prepared. We’ll go our separate ways but I love you always.”

I want to be loved in a way that makes me think “I would do life again with Tinubu if I have this person.”😭😂

I want to be loved passionately, secretly, loudly. The way yam loves egg and Nigerians love gist.

I want to be loved a love that triggers me to let go and stay calm; not saving the day or running away. The love that makes me know I'm not difficult to love.

The kind of love that triggers me but in a good way.

To be loved in such way that my old defences schism,

To know that love is the perfect defence mechanism. ❤️

Wheeewww… You have reached the end.

The famous poet, Rainer Maria Rilke, wrote something about love that you should ponder on.

“Love consists of this: two solitudes that meet, protect and greet each other.”

~Tess. ❤️✨

PS: It's my birthday and you can write me a mail. testimonyolamide8@gmail.com

Testimony: Which would you prefer:

• Night OR Day?

Well, I prefer Night. Y'all know who I am.

A witch? No, A Mistborn. (Brandon Sanderson would be so proud).

• Dark Mode OR Light Mode?

My phone apps are always in the Dark mode unless there's an issue which I make sure to solve. 😭😂 Dark is Tea. Iykyk.

• Social media OR Digital Detox?

I long for the world to flip to a state where technology is extinct and we have to send birds to deliver messages to our loved ones. Like they did in Hogwarts.

You should know what my answer is now.

• Logic OR Emotion

Well, I'm quite logical. I won't be saying writing more.

• Short hair OR Long hair ?

I've tried both. I recommend going Bald.

Being bald is Gold. You don't have to bother about any hair follicle but be sure to not have evil friends. 😭😂

You might be meme-fied.

• Sleeping with the door open OR Closed?

Quick back story:

When I was younger, I shared a room with my sister and she would enter the room without closing the door. I would always get annoyed and order her to close it.

One day, I think I slept earlier and dreamt of an eerie image standing in the front of the door that stood ajar. 😭😂

After that day, even if I have slept, I would randomly wake to close my door.

You know what I do with my doors now.

• Fiction OR Nonfiction?

I sincerely appreciate authors of nonfiction but even they would agree that there is more to life than DOs and DON'Ts.

Add some spice, mystery, suspense, thrills to your life through FICTION.

I'm picking Fiction a thousand times over. ❤️

Till Tomorrow,

Tess. ❤️✨

I shall hereby shed off layers of my anonymity on this orange app (sounds weird). Shall we?

1. I love God because he loved me first. He loves me so much; I can't tell why.

2. I love the Psalmist. David is the GOAT, fr.

3. I love myself. Not just in the way that you love your physical looks or body or hair but in a more intimate way. I love my soul & my daring spirit.

4. I love my family: My Dad, Mom & 5 siblings— Eunice, Priscilla, Torin, Simi, Lanre.

5. I love my friends so much. They know themselves. Shout-out to y'all.

6. I love Alphabets scribbled in ink or lead. I love books & letters.

7. I love reading. What do you mean I'm in my bed and simultaneously, in the third punic war when the first recorded genocide happened? Wild!

8. I love writing. A mystical art.

9. I think I have a strong desire for knowledge. I am so curioussss. I love learning.

10. I love holding beautiful conversations with humans— share me insights, experiences, perspectives, opinions.

11. I love vacations in serene environments; lock me in a garden with coffee, books and bread. Solitude advocate.

12. I love traveling and documenting my journeys. Mother Nature is just so beautiful & the physical architecture humans design»»»

13. I love crocheting but I've not bought a pin since ‘23. Lord, help me.

14. I love journaling.

    I keep quite a lot of info. in my head… My journal records this events and moments as they were. Pristine.

15. I love taking pictures. I think I've taken about 200 or more in just one day. Pictures are captured moments and I love them.

16. I love mirrors. It leaves me in awe each time I see myself staring at me. (Girllll😂)

17. I love talking. Thanks to my friends, Samuel & Victoria, for presenting the opportunity to hone this skill. Victoria and I can do 12 hours talk time. Geezzz.

18. I love debates. Have you ever thought I'm a gentle, unable-to-argue human? Meet me at my faculty's debate sessions. “This house believes…” and you'll have a rethink. 😂

19. I love outreaches. I love being of help to people for no reason. Outreach seems perfect. Do good, expect nothing.

20. I love the concept called time.

    Alan Watts quoted, “We are not born into time; time is born into us.” I'll leave you to think about that.

21. I love light but I enjoy the dark. Let there be light (electricity) but leave the light bulbs turned off. Thanks.

22. I love the stillness of the nighttime. Just me at my window, the stars gazing down at me & the fresh breeze. Meditation knocks.

23. I love motivating people to be better. I just run out of time to do it.

24. I love tutoring. I explained pharmacology to my friends some weeks ago and they advised me to take on “lecturing.” (Nah, I'm good)

25. I love annoying my Mom.

    “Mommy, should I eat?” “no oh, wait for me.”

    “Mommy, carry me please” “God forbid bad thing.”

    “Testimony!!! (3x) How may times did I call you?” “Mommy, what is it?”😭 She reciprocates this, too.

26. I love working: the kind of work that requires mental strength. Not Physical work!😂 (And I love stress. Don't be deceived by me, friends).

27. I love rain. Fall & let me read a novel under my duvet. Call me a pluviophile.

28. I love the sun. Once I take nice pictures, I'd have to beg it to hide from me. Kaiiii.

29. I love languages but I can speak only three. Shame! I've long forsaken Duo.

30. I love Yoruba dialects, especially where I'm from.

31. I love the Igbo language and their Proverbs. My Igbo peeps: Kedu ka ihe dị? (Reply in the comments if you're Igbo).

32. I love fried plantains and fried fish. You need me to help you with anything (reasonable), just offer me these. You can add bread too.

33. I love the market. No, I don't love to shop or buy anything and carry loads. Nah.

    I love to go to the market, move with the crowd, haggle prices for a buyer, window shop, enter a shop with LED lights, sit inside with ice cream in my hand; step out, buy fried fish and cold pure water. Go home (you know what's next & what's next).😂

We neva reach 50???

34. I love mailing my friends. There's this fulfillment of role that I experience after clicking “send.”

35. I love the idea that no one is complete in themselves. Humans were created to be insufficient in themselves. Soli Deo Gloria.

36. I love examinations (I hope my course mates don't see this😭). I love exams because it tests my knowledge. I especially like when it's theory; I can be dynamic in my answers. I only enjoy exams when I've read!

37. I love Hardwork/ smart work. I love the process of Success.

    Let me come out clean: I prefer the process to the outcome. I'm always more satisfied with the process. If the process is messy or compromised & the outcome seems good, I will not be happy.

38. I love monitoring and tracking event process. After co-organizing an hangout last month, I realized I enjoyed it. I do it well, too.

39. I love being creative. My joy is palpable whenever I create something.

40. I love fairness and justice. I can't sit still if anyone around me is treated unjustly. I've began advocacy & I'm considering Law.

41. I love being logical & reasonable. “This can't work out… Move on.” “The venue is unavailable… I have an alternative.” It's not always interesting but being logical saves time.

42. I love LOVE; to see it, to know it, to talk about it, to read it, to experience it. Oh yes, I'm in love…

    With books. (What were you thinking? 🌚)

43. I love museums. I love seeing those historical collections. Brings back the good ol’ days that I wasn't part of.

44. I love taking music classes but I only know do re mi. I need free help. 😭😂

45. I love long hugs from my loved ones. It's therapeutic. It's also factory reset 3 for me.

46. I love silence. It's why I love the library. Most times, I visit the library to sleep or write. The serenity just hits.

47. I love eating my friends’ meals. “You cooked? Oh… I'm on my way, darling.”😂

48. I love sleeping only after I've woken up. Remember I said I love to travel? Yea, in my sleep, I cross across realms.

    So yea, I tell myself there's no time to sleep but when I eventually sleep, my blue passport is always with me.

49. I love my nails. My profession has a thing against it, though.

50. I LOVE WORDS— knowing & spelling, knowing their meanings, using them.

51. I love that there are over 50 things I love. Who would have thought?

Thanks for staying. See you tomorrow. Ciao.

Tess. ❤️✨

I don't know if I'm weird for having these thoughts but I've imagined myself out of my body— where I'm outside observing some beings with big mounds(called head) on a frame that has different parts.

These beings are called Humans—Humus Man.

They differ from other beings in that they: stand upright, speak coordinately, have a developed cerebral cortex and regret their own existence.

|Funny, isn't it?

But you can read this so you're human. I'm not smiling with you.

…

There is this phenomenon I've been caught up in. I'll describe it before I place a label (humans love those: more nouns, less adjectives.)

I forget ideas not written down. I forget names. I forget academic stuff I read. I forget some important tasks to be carried out. I forget birthdays and dates. I forget ‘today's date’ even if I've checked it five times. I forget to eat my meals. I forget what I remember (see what I just did).

HOWEVER, I remember the characters of novels I read years ago. I remember an event just when I'm about to miss it. I remember my patients’ names and cases. I remember I have family members. I do not forget my sister's due punishment. I remember my name. 😭😂

Medical students might call it dissociative amnesia. I have no name for it.

…

I think personification is game!😂

I am not the only one who personifies my body parts, right?

Doing something like, “Oh, my brain begs to differ.”

“My heart loves you but my brain doesn't.”

“My legs brought me here against my will.”

You don't do it??? You should try it out. It's fun.

…

Recently, I have been involved in leading a team. The weekend before I was burdened with that task, my phone screen was ruined and I had to do more offline stuff. That weekend, I read a physical copy of “The Rules of Management” by Richard Templar.

The next weekend, I managed a team— effectively and efficiently. Thanks to God. Thanks to Richard. What were the odds that my phone spoilt so I could read that book and learn in prep. for what's to come?

I am someone who thinks what you see sees you.

…

A brief list of some weird things I used to do. Still do some.

• I don't eat meat because I don't (I still don't. No, I'm not veg.)

• I wouldn't wear anything that would make you look at me twice— attractive or vice versa (used to be too modest).

• I detest compliments & Thank yous. Can't everyone just shush and act like nothing happened? (I'm changed now)

• I won't read a book if I won't finish within a period of time. If I leave it for weeks, I'm starting again when next I pick it no matter the page I'm on.

I think I should write that “50 things you like” piece.

…

The last of my thoughts that I'd share.

I have a toxic relationship with books; I have now discovered.

I used to think I can pick plantains over books BUT I read the mistborn series and I just knew Plantain would need to do some evolving before it can dare come close to my books.

I think about books. I'm taking a walk and I'm wondering how a novel I've started reading might end. I sleep in the evenings so I can wake up to read when everyone else is asleep.

I love traveling and the fastest way to get to the Joseon Dynasty is through books. Y'all saw what happened in “Bon appetit.”

I think a book is a combination of papers held together with a spine through which one travels worlds and live lives.

Each time you read, you live transiently in the author’s head space just as you're living in mine right now.

Ciao,

Tess.❤️✨

Oh to be loved a familial love! ❤️

I would later discover in photographs how happy he was on that day as expressed in his wide smile even though according to societal norms, he wasn't supposed to be— his daughter birthed her first child: a girl & a girl is not counted a child.

Well… Obviously, he shared no such idiotic sentiment with the society.

.

I would grow up and have my grandpa visit us randomly, always with an eggroll in his hands, for me. "What better way to make sure my granddaughter grows quickly than by feeding her eggroll— egg + flour+ sugar +oil: Almost a balanced diet.", I'm almost sure he wondered.😂 (Kidding)

Whenever I see my grandpa, I see eggroll.

.

At some point, we (my family) moved places and stayed in a place that was closer (just a bit) to my grandpa.

And this was when I discovered the meters my pa covered, holding my precious eggroll with him each time.

Such intentionality.

Side note: Perhaps, because he had been before the existence of cars in the country, he still loved to walk so much. So, yea, he crossed cities with his legs when he felt like it.

.

My house was in a serene environment but my Pa's place? In the middle of the market. Yes, in the middle of the King's Market (Ọja Ọba) in my state's capital.

I was always very happy to wade through the crowd, with my parents following behind me, to his abode— smiling at the market women who called me "Oyinbo" but not daring to take anything from them.

Maybe some of the beautiful market chaos & drama rubbed off on me.

Perhaps, it's why when I go to any market, I understand the traders & their prices and bend them to my will.

.

We visited him in the afternoons, usually after school time. Still in my school uniform, I was always so eager to meet my pa. He cooks for me— I remember the yam, how he boils it & the rich soup he prepares.

We do not speak the same language but we understand each other so well. I speak the fluent English language while, he his mother's tongue (dialect, infact). The only statement I understood was, "O kare, ọmọ mi” meaning, “Well done, my child.”

I got this whenever I genuflected properly or showed him my successfully completed assignments and during other moments I cannot remember now. He speaks very funny English when he decides to speak it. Well, I'm sure he'd like me to keep that a secret.

The first time I fetched or pretended to fetch water was at his place. I remember that well (of water) so well. He never allowed me near it but a girl will always be a girl. 😂

.

Few years later, I was in primary school, when the government decided to demolish all houses in the market place—my Pa's included. He had to move.

Well, He got a house very close to mine (my parents') and I got to see him daily.

Everyday, when my school bus dropped me off at home, I would drop my school bag and run off to his place where I would eat lunch and listen to his tales.

This was how my folktale journey began.

My Pa never ran out of the evening Folktales and the moonlight stories. The wisdom in these tales are profound. I don't even know how that man — an octogenarian — remembered them, at the time.

My mom would always complain that I neglected the house chores to listen to tales and my grandpa would tell her I'm still a kid. This man indulged me, in a good way. He would tell me a short tale, remind me to be obedient and instruct me to go help my mom out.

.

During my Junior secondary school graduation, I won overall best in some subjects and my grandpa was around on the prize giving day. His happiness was palpable; he was so proud of me.

It was then that I decided deep down — even if he's too old to walk, I will lift him and make sure he's around for my University convocation ceremony.

I was in the boarding house in senior secondary school, when my younger sister told me my pa fell sick. I told her I was coming home on the weekend to write my exam (JAMB) and I'll see him then.

I ignored the warning in my head to take permission and go home that same Wednesday.

On Friday Afternoon, I got home and he had left me.

His death was just as sudden as the end of this piece, btw.

He died without waiting to give me one last comforting hug in his aged but still strong arms. Everyone was crying but me? I was still in denial. I was awake through nights wondering if his death was real.

My exam the next day went in a blur and the months that followed. It was the first time I had lost someone so dear.

.

Every year, I'm reminded of this man's death and how unexpected it was even though he was 5 years shy of a century. Was he old? Yes. However, I'd not known him long enough to want to let him go.

Such strong, wonderful, handsome, loving, wise man.

Gone for quite a while but these memories & more... They’re stuck with me. In the nearest future, I hope to leave them on the pages of a book in the language he has always known and taught me to speak fluently.

This is some sort of ‘prequel’ to a memoir.

~TESS❤️✨

Before I begin, this mini post is all you think it is and more.

I was on my usual Saturday runs (Volunteering and all) yesterday; stepped out in all my feminine beauty— even the sun had to hide away at some point. My brightness no be hin mate. 😩😂

I went out with my friend for an outreach and we had to pause at a major road to meet up with others.

Side note: This road had a lot of bumps to reduce traffic but traffic usually rears its ugly head, anyway.

I was talking with the other ladies we met about my proficiency at haggling prices (which was tested & was true) when I saw HIM.

.

There were a lot of bikes on that road but I saw just His. I don't know why. 😭😂

His eyes found mine and stopped. I found his too and couldn't keep my gaze away.

I mean... What were the odds that I would find a fair, handsome man in the scorching Ondo sun on a Hot Saturday Noon, sitting on a bike & gazing at me?😭

Two things happened in this moment, making it mystical.

• I blushedddd. Hard girl blushed then, smiled brightly with her lips apart. Usually, only my friends are successful at this.

• The sun became a bit bearable. Ondo sun ohh. 😭 He didn't stare. He looked and didn't let his eyes wander and I think it crossed my mind, ‘This can go on for a while.’

Y'all know what's more unusual?

I was the only one that saw him. Everyone just kept going about their day like two young humans were not in some gazing contest.

.

When I recovered a bit, his bike had already passed and was at a distance but he was not done. Through the bumps and traffic, this man's gaze didn't waver

So the hard girl in me took over... I shouted ‘happily’, "Face front, now, broda" (Tchh… Finished woman)

And No, he didn't. Until he was out of sight.

The Things A Man's smile could do to a Lady:

1. You would blush like crazy. I'm not capping.

2. Butterfly in your belly? Nah. You might feel an ostrich. 😭😂 I'm sorry I was kidding. Your insides will feel warm.

3. If he's an handsome man like the one I saw, any condition would bearable: Water oh, fire oh. 😂

4. You would also experience teleportation. You would get lost in his gaze then, realize you're no more on earth. You've both teleported to the 9th planet, created just for that moment.

.

.

Smile at a man, today. He just might return it and you might experience this wonderful feeling.

I'm back on this app, guys. Dramatic as ever. Expect me again in two days or so.

Wishing y'all the best week and a man's smile, ofc. 🤭❤️

~ Tess. ✨

PS: If you see me anywhere, don't mention this post. I might faint.

PPS: Don't ever tell your friends about your Substack because of incidents like this. They won't let you live it down. 😂

So yea, once or twice, I've been cheated but I'm the fast learner. This piece is not about my escapades in public transports— my monologues in the front seat, by the window or my deal with the huge guy who ‘slept on me.’

This piece is about the women I've met during my journeys.

Women are beautiful— in and out. The Love of women, the love in women & the love between women; all so overwhelming and sufficient in its reality.

Once, as I got into a tricycle, the rider mentioned a price that seemed okay but almost immediately, this woman winked and I got the memo.

I think I saved an extra ₦100 for myself, that day.

.

Another day, I took a taxi and this woman I know from nowhere would pay my transport fare.

.

This other day, returning to my state from school, a woman sat beside me. She was huge in stature and was drinking coca-cola. I made enquiries, randomly, about her daily consumption and explained the medical conditions: Diabetes Mellitus and Hypertension.

She thanked me & we became friends that parted at the car park.

.

On the road, I'd randomly meet a girl with a long hair and tell her I admired it & she would look at me with shared admiration for someone who's from Mars.

.

I'd have a fixed meeting, my phone running low and I would find a lady who's not my friend who let me use her power bank, not regarding the presumption that the national grid could be stolen for good, this time around.

.

A young girl would see me on the streets and would fix her gaze upon me. I would smile and ask for her name. She would whisper it to me with her tiny voice like she's just told me a secret.

.

The teen who sells plantains would meet me on the road and stop me to ask if I'll buy. I will haggle the price/ plantains and buy. And the next thing I know, in two days, she's at my doorstep asking if I would love another purchase. She's hawking with her younger brother, btw. Two beautiful souls.

.

I would read a book titled “Marriage Monitoring Aunties Association” and another, “Yinka, where's your husband?”; I would feel sorry for the aged women who took no delight in romantic love and were shamed for having no man to call ‘crown’.

.

All these women have charmed me with love; their intoxicating concoction has driven me, who couldn't write for months, to drip ink on pages in these cursive writings.🥺

To all the women whose love I've received,

To the ones who have received mine,

And to the ones who will,

Happy International Women's Day. ❤️

From TESS. ❤️✨

Your crown has already been bought. All have to do is wear it ~ VIOLA DAVIS.

#IWD

#GiveToGain

There's this boy who is interested in marrying you (if you're a male, think of a girl).

You don't even know him from any where but he claims to know you.

He is the son of the King of the neighbouring town; highly respected and feared.

He expresses his love to you in different ways.

Before you ask for a thing, he provides it. He enjoys being around you even when you act like he isn't there.

You don't like him oh but you accept his gifts.🌚

Anyways, you didn't reciprocate his love until one fateful day.

You committed an abominable act in your community. You stole!

The penalty for theft is death.

After stealing, you tried to run away. This son of a King discovered you were in trouble so he announced that he was the thief.

Of course, no one believed him but he convinced them.

Chaiii... Boy In Love. Àbí?

.

The community members didn't care that he was the prince. They flogged the life out of lover boy.

As he was about to die though, he looked up and his eyes met yours in the crowd. He fixed his gaze on you lovingly & made one last statement, "My Love for you lasts forever."

.

.

If you read up to this point, I'm guessing you know who I'm talking about.

The Lover Boy is Jesus & The loved one is YOU.

He loves you and has given his life up so that you can live.

Will you accept this love? Will you accept this life?

You don't own tomorrow. Don't take your time.

Give your life to Jesus Christ, today.

Here's how you go about it. Say as you read:

"Lord Jesus, I acknowledge that I have sinned & you alone can save me.

I confess my sins (list all) and ask for forgiveness this very moment.

Let your love overwhelm me and fill me with the joy of salvation.

In Jesus Name. Amen."

Once you believe, you have received everlasting life.

And you don't have to commit a grievous sin to be worthy of salvation.

There's no better Christmas gift than the Birthday Boy, himself.

Merry Christmas. 🎄🎄🎄

Did anyone watch a movie today? Let me have recommendations in the comments.

Thank you. ❤️

~ TESS❤️✨

But this is not a rant.

.

After reading this book, I pondered a bit and I've got questions about reality.

In a certain character’s words,

“Is this (relationship) real because of its existence or because of the knowledge of its existence?”

To provide context,

Two humans were in a relationship and one was wondering if the relationship was real.

He wanted to know if the reality of their relationship was hinged on its existence or on other humans’ knowledge of its existence.

That statement would later drag me to the dictionary.

Merriam Webster defines Real as:

“Something having independent objective existence.”

BUT Humans' definition of Real is

“A subjective, experienced concept.”

.

If you've not seen something before, you say it's not real.

If you've not experienced love, you might call it vague.

Meanwhile, Love is real.

This takes me back to my question, “Real is what?”

If real is only objective,

Does that make Pain (subjective) unreal?

Does that mean Money is fake?

We've agreed dreams are not real, too. Right?

Let me have your honest thoughts in the comments!

Thank you.

~ TESS ❤️✨

PS: Well, if it would interest you… I'm supposed to finish 50 books before this year ends and I'm no on Number 4.

PPS: This book aforementioned, I do not recommend it but I know you might still want to check it out.

Title: The Death of Vivek Oji.

I wish to unread.

I think it was on a beautiful Wednesday Morning when my class rep let us know that we had no scheduled lectures for the day that… I decided to cook.

I stood in my kitchen, in front of the window that blessed my sight with the view of the streets—

cars speeding by, breeze blowing clothes on a line, the Ondo sun shining brightly…

And a thought crossed my mind, preceding others.

.

“What if we're not humans? What if we're meant to transform into the wind on some days? And just BE.”

.

.

.

Well… today, I thought of what to write

And through the plethora, I decided to write this.

Recently, I've been wondering… ‘What should I do?’

• Should I make my hair or CUT it?

• Should I get married or choose celibacy?

• Should I read my slides or watch anime?

• Should I make friends or run away from humans?

• Should I pray to God or rant to a human?

• Should I take this course or ‘i’ll pass’?

• Should I make more money or remain a dependent child?

• Should I talk or ‘nevermind’?

Deeps Breathly

I miss the days when I don't have to do much thinking.

I just wake up & think of how I'll fully maximize my day by playing with my friends before reading about “the tortoise and Yanribo, his wife” & other story books.

And watch the news with my Dad at night before watching “Suliya and Toyo” (Jennifer series).

How did WE even get here? 😩

Now, we have to make these decisions that we will take full responsibility for.

Adulthood is a trap!

An obvious trap that you can't avoid.

You don't get to choose it but you have to take responsibility for your actions.

O Lágbára mehn. 😭😂

Since we're already here, we better BE something good. I guess.

“What Should I Be? What Should I do?”

The ponderings of a young adult.

A Young Adult might want to be a lot of things but I'll say,

“Before you become ALL, BE YOU.”

Find YOU,

Work on YOU &

Become the best version of YOU that you can imagine.

PS: I don't know what's up with this Substack update. I'm unable to add any image.

PPS: It's First Sunday again and I just found out after the half of the day is gone.

This year is really living me.

Picture perfect. Character set. Made in Manners.

She was the first to walk and automatically, her siblings had to follow her footsteps.

She couldn't dare make mistakes because her siblings don't “do as I say”, they “do as I see”.

And what do they see…

A perfect role model.

A smart & hardworking youngster.

A blameless firstborn in whom her parents are well pleased.

They can not do not see the girl who's about to break under the weight of ‘I need to be more’.

And here's where the big deal is.

What is ‘More’?

For Firstborns, ‘More’ means perfect.

The plates and laundries should be clean, always.

The living room, tidy— in case a visitor pops up (they always do).

The toilet seat as white as her teeth.

The firstborn at the young age of 5 already has a degree in ‘Home management’.

.

I've not made my research, yet

But I think firstborns have a higher tendency to be perfectionists.

EVERYTHING has to be done rightly and in time.

There's really no tardiness with firstborns.

For Firstborns, “More” is not just managing the home well.

“More” is always striving to be the BEST in their courses of study.

‘What do you mean you came second? Does the first person has two heads?’

While that seems beautiful,

Has anyone stopped to ask if this firstborn has put in ‘their’ best?

What will happen if she tries harder and is still met with a greater resistance?

Well, I know what will happen.

She'll see every better person around as a competitor.

She won't just study to do well,

She'd study to stay on top of the class.

She becomes scared of ‘failure’ and never wants to experience it.

Btw, failure is SECOND POSITION.

‘More’ is Making Everyone Proud.

Sometimes, life tests humans and they go, “I'll just take a break. What will be will be.”

Firstborns don't get to take breaks. They work extra hard so no one is disappointed.

Their life is based on others’ validation.

Life is hard

But life is harder for the Firstborn.

Because they're not living for themselves alone.

Firstborns live for everyone and anyone they assume is watching them.

In summary,

Firstborns are beings who live life like they've lived it before— knowing what to do and how to do it.

Firstborns are not humans.

They are beings stretched thin between who they want to be and who they’re expected to be.

To every firstborn who reads this, I hope this piece seems relatable.

Your efforts are seen and valued.

You're strong and fierce.

And…

You're allowed to rest, this weekend or whenever. ❤️

~ TESS ❤️✨

PS: This piece is for all firstborns but the writer is a female. That's why you read in “shes”.😂

PPS: I couldn't proofread this. 😩 Forgive my errors.

#Stack 12 Of 100

Oh yea, what do I mean by, ‘sleep off’?

According to Tess's Dictionary,

Sleep off is a phrase that refers to what happens when your alarm rings but you snooze it.

And when it rings again, you dismiss.

Only to wake up hours later than the time the world (or you) expected you to rise.

Now that we've clarified the definition, I'm sure I'm not the only one this has happened to.

A lot of us have slept off at a point or the other in our lives.

It might have even led to drastic repercussions like missing a test / exam or running late for a meeting or anything worse.

Uhm… sorry about what sleeping off has cost you BUT…

Instead of mourning the sleep you've slept, I think there are other things you can do.

I slept for 12 hours recently— unprecedented.

When I woke up, I was about to mourn when it kicked in, ‘there are other things to do’ like…

What to do/ not do when you sleep off (Real Guide)

• Wake up & thank God you are awake. I mean, imagine you slept for days and a surgery has to be carried out to wake you up. Just imagine!

• Be grateful for sound sleep.

  You slept like a baby. Isn't that cute?🥺 You're an adult yet you got so much sleep. Please,bask in that privilege.

• Sadness Will try to seep in, here BUT…

  Don't you think it's a waste of time mourning your self-enjoyed sleep.

  So yea, don't be sad.

• Don't self-sabotage! You're not a bad person because you slept off.

  You're also not lazy because you slept off.

  Your body just got what it needs desperately. It doesn't even happen always. 😩

• Be kind to yourself by getting to work. The work you missed out on… don't leave it because ‘wo, I feel bad. I'm not doing anything.’

  Not doing the work will make you feel worse.

• Call/ text a friend & tell them about how you must have broken the world Guinness Record by sleeping the longest in history.

  I did that when I slept off the last time and I felt better.

  Try it when next you sleep off.

• Maintain a good sleep schedule.

  So your body doesn't choose a random day to temporarily shut down.

  Subscribe now

• Internalize The Right Thoughts.

  Let yourself believe that sleep is good. It is a natural, recurring state for humans’ body and mind enter to rest, repair, and reset.

  And you, my dear, are very much a human.

~ TESS ❤️✨

I hope you enjoyed the read.

Stack 11 of 100… Yayyy. 💃💃

A ku isinmi oni o. Happy Rest Day. ✨

Before I begin to speak fluent Yorùbá dialect, I'll skip to today's gist.

I have a sister named Eunice; very cute lil girl.

I love my siblings so yea, I love her UNTIL…

She found fault in my pronunciation.

That day, I was fuming.

“When did they give birth to you, madam, that you're correcting me? What do you know, baby?” 😭😂

I was pained.

What exactly happened?

One day, my sister came home from school and spoke about how she finds the subject “Literature-In-English” interesting.

I asked what she was taught and she went, “The Genres of Literature”.

The way my sister pronounced this thing & I was like come again.

And she did.

I told her her pronunciation of “Genres” was wrong. She said I should pronounce my own.

You guys don't even want to hear it.😩

My sister told me that I was wrong and her teacher was correct. So she was correct.

Thank God for mobile phones. I dashed to Google to check the pronunciation of genres.

Hmm… Oyibo didn't try sha.

Apparently, my sister was correct.

And I learnt something new. Win-win right?

BUT…

She was so happy. I felt like wiping off the smile from her face. 😭 The wickedness of a firstborn child.

And I tried.

.

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She makes this mistake with the month October.

Maybe you also do. 😏

Quick Exercise

Pronounce September… Correct.

Pronounce November… Correct.

Pronounce December… Very correct.

Now, Pronounce October…

I guessed as much.

English is Hard. Hian…

Octomber àbí… Why the M?

Englishman says October is not like the other months. Why won't you agree? Ehn Eunice?

My sister, Eunice, made the usual mistake again and I laughed.

How blissful the joy of siblinghood.

My sister is smart and she makes silly grammar mistakes.

And I love her like that. ❤️

I mean why can you pronounce correctly “genres” but mispronounce “October”?

I'll never understand how. 😂

Please, I hope I'm not the only that has been corrected by a younger human.

Let me know how yours went in the comments.

Leave a comment

Wishing you a productive week ahead. 😌

~ TESS ❤️✨

PS: It's the birthday of two women dear to me.

Happy Birthday, Women of God. 🥺❤️🎉 &

May you continue to shine brightly.

#Stack 10 of 100.

Even after she has done everything the Hair Wizard asked her to do.

She's in 3 hair growth groups with a goal to have waist length hair before December.

She has used hair oils, water, moringa leaves and pawpaw leaves…

But the story is the same.

To the girl who has more flesh on her cheeks than on her chest

Whose bum has the J shape like Yinka from ‘Yinka, where's your huzband?’ (sorry if you've not read the book. Send a DM if you want.)

She has joined fitness clubs but she knows she doesn't want to lose any more weight.

She just wants the perfect shape.

Is it too much to ask?😩

To the babe who has joined several coaching sessions trying to find herself the perfect financial scheme (airquotes).

Her money-making groups contend for space with the pre-order groups.

Who can blame her?

A woman shall not live by bread alone;

Shoes and Bracelets are also essential for survival.

Skin care bills? Mehnnn.

Who 50k eppp???

Shebi if she doesn't even have hair, skin should glow.

If God didn't dash her fair skin, she'll make a caramel out of her brown.

All these things… na moneyyyyy.

Na my babe's phone be that…

Small Snapchat video with camera wey no even clear, phone screams, “delete me”.😭😂

Ki ló dé ? What is it??😩 Ahn ahnn.

Oh yea, she has pins from Pinterests of fashion fits she wants to recreate

But she Neva jam the cash wey she go use. Chai.

Even her room just hot.

As NEPA no gree bring light, no fan.

It's the point when she needs them the most, they disappear.

NEPA- The Last Light Bender. 😩

.

At this point, she'll just sleep.

Wake up and watch the series she collected from her friend after Lectures.

To the girl who has girlfriends with which she makes plans to go out with…

But ends up pulling out because “What do y'all mean we're going to chicken rep?”

“As how? With the 2k wey I wan use 2 weeks for November spend? Omo.”

To my lady who desperately needs divine help so she finds the right wear to that party on Saturday…

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Maybe I can share my own consolation with you.

✓ Delusion!

Delude yourself with wild imaginations.

Work ‘crazily’.

Pray like you don't even work.

Put in some more efforts.

My babe, result go soon show.

E fit tey small… but you sef strong & you get long life. No be small. 😂

My other life saving tips? Take for free.

• You have few clothes? Wear your clothes again. Rinse and repeat. Na you get am.

• Your hair has refused to grow? Please, barb Fadán. It's gonna look good on you. No cap!

• Your phone is hot & no storage? Don't let it frustrate you; we're together in this. Buy cold pure water to cool it down.

  For the storage thingy, back up your images and videos & Whatsapp chats to Gmail. Then, clear up your phone, fine girl.

• Not enough storage in your Google drive? Let me know in the comments. I might have one charm.

Subscribe now

• You think your shape is not shaping? Then, don't shape your shape.

  You're beautiful just the way you are. If you agree with this, who can disagree? No one! they ain't got the guts. (See that rhyme. Perfect tongue twister)😂😂

• Your room is hot & there's no light? Take a walk. Make it your meditation time.

  Meditation is medicine for the soul, baby.

• For skin care? Mix vegetable oil and palm oil. Seal it with the blood of Jesus. Thank me later!

• You can't go to chicken rep? Did you not see that beautiful cock playing around your window side in the hostel? You decide what becomes of it. 😂

  Please, just take a picture. Don't make chicken and chips.🤲🏾

• Omo… I can't believe I hid these much updates from my girls. 😩😭😂

What a good day to be a girl?

“Worry less. You'll be fine.”

Says Tess. ❤️✨

PS: Now, let me go and think about how to charge this phone as light bender has refused to bend light.

This is Stack 2.🎉🎉 You won't subscribe keh?😩😂

It's not even possible! 🔪🔪🔪

Yes, that's knife!