Misunderstood by off Starrgirl album.

Many must have slept on this song.
Please don’t let Heaven Baby make you forget this one.

Here is what I took from the song/lyrics.

I don’t know what it is/was, but from the lyrics, I can tell Ayra must have gone through a lot. Maybe from haters, the media, her own fans, or opposing fans. Whatever it is/was, she sounded exhausted by it all, & her only response was to head into the studio, grab the mic, & talk her shii.

The song compounds the hurt she must have felt, how she managed to cope, how her mindset changed, & how she continues to forge ahead despite the negative talks & surrounding noise. She sounded like someone who has developed thicker skin over time; nothing can break her.

Here are the lyrics that stood out to me the most:

Opening lyrics:

“Little Miss unbothered”
“Little Broken Hearted”
“But she ain’t nobody’s fool.”

“She was a black sheep in the middle of a white room”
“She was a lone wolf in a pack of plus twos”

I see a young girl with her cup filled to the brim with confusion. New to the game, with no one, & with no idea how to break out of the crowd.

Then she goes on to say:

“They told her, never could, never would, never should, never make it on her own.”

Lots of doubters & naysayers, but guess what? She never backed down. Despite being a lone wolf, she was stubborn to the core. Her head was fixated on one thing: to break out, no matter what.

I love this part the most. Amazingly beautiful:

“If they to the right, the left she follows”
“In a two-door model Gas with no brakes”
“Carving her way”

This part touched me a bunch. She essentially said: despite the doubts, despite being misunderstood, the dislikes, despite her inexperience, no matter how slow I move (two door model car), I’ll still do my thing. I won’t follow the crowd, I’ll do it the way I can & know how to do it. You’ll have to accept me as I am, theres no stopping me, till I get to my destination. She took us back to that line about being a “black sheep in the middle of a white room.”

She’s screaming:

“I don’t care. I’m here to stay. I’ll talk my shit, & you all will have to accept me.”

In summary, Ayra is urging all, especially young women like her to chase their dreams, put their minds to it, & keep going. One day, the world will adjust to see you for who you are & hear your voice.

Go play the song.

I don’t know what came over me.
I tried to walk away,
but something in you
kept pulling me back to you.

It wasn’t meant to happen.
A gargantuan mistake it was.

Being with you was a felony,
and I deserve to be hung for it. 😔

I’m in no hurry.

Can’t explain it.

Quite a funny story.

I spotted you, my vision turned blurry.

Sighted you at the CLUB ACE.

Everything felt slow-paced.

Now, getting to know you, & it seems fast-paced.

Becoming obsessed.

I’m sensing success.

These feelings must be written in upper case.

As I stepped in, quickly I admired.

Sweet gurl, colorful attire.

I mean it, my brain rewired.

I felt your heat. I perspired.

This is written in stones, no satires.

My Damilola,

I’m stuck on your barbed wire.

Only your extinguisher quenches my fire.

My brain yearns for you; the need is dire.

My anxiety fluctuates.

You my tranquilizer.

Damilola?

You & me till I retire.

With Love,

Ug🥀

I can’t get enough of "Heaven Baby" by (feat. Zayn). It is an absolutely distinct song, easily my best song off the album.

The song takes you to places your headspace can barely comprehend. I’ll call it a love song mixed with one’s ethereal obsession, worship & devotion for their significant other.

Pay close attention to its lyrics; you’ll understand better.

Words like, "Die for you if you let me, baby," "If you ever left this planet, baby, "couldn’t manage, baby" - these are intense words, loaded with a chunk of affection & possession. She’s literally saying, "Anywhere you go, I’ll go," alive or not. Like I said earlier, emphasis on "Ethereal."

If you feel nothing after listening to the song, go to the doctors. You might need to get your emotions checked.

Every single time I hit repeat, I pause as I wonder, "Ayra, what emotions were you feeling at the time you were writing this song & what emotions were you trying to express?"

Everything about this song is perfect. Indescribable.

Ayra is indeed a Starrgirl.

I’m obsessed.

Kindly read this too:

https://substack.com/@ugwrites/note/p-211176920?r=6g0uba&utm_medium=ios&utm_source=notes-share-action

Heaven Baby by Starr (feat. Zayn) gave me the most exotic & emotionally reflective chills.

Listening to the song, all I could do was think about love, heartbreak, & my ex from years back. This song will rile you up, put your emotions in stacks, as your emotions get gently attacked. Honestly? Engrossed I was.

Had to play it a couple of times, immersing myself in the lyrics, down to the instrumentals.

Lyrics like:

“You could be my Heaven baby”
“Die for you if I let you baby”
“If you ever left this planet baby”
“Couldn’t manage baby”

I don’t need to explain too much; the words are simple enough for all to understand. I could sense her feelings in the lyrics. She glaringly poured her heart into this.

Oh my gosh!

Everything about the song got me soaked in a fabric of emotions devoid of discordance. I just can’t explain it. Zayn came in, did his thing too, & it sounded so perfect.

I found myself hitting that rewind button over & over. I strongly wish the song was a bit longer.

Nonetheless… 😮‍💨

Lurking dangerously in your head, created by unknown folks from time immemorial, just to keep you stuck in a loop of endless failing romantic relationships.

It’s heavily deceptive, a sham, shady, treacherous, you name it.

With that phrase lingering in your subconscious, you never fully commit to a relationship.

You find someone, you fall in love with them, you manage to progress into a fine relationship with them. Next thing, you’re thinking of an exit?

Why?

Because they pissed you off just one time?

Okay, fine. Let’s say they pissed you off 50 times. So what?

So long as it’s not emotional neglect, abuse, toxicity, or anything chaotic, then you both are fine to go on.

See that old couple down the street.

Do you think they never fought & still fight?

Do you think it was all a bed of roses from the start till they got older?

Do you know how many times they forgave each other?

Most people in this generation forget that a relationship is a daily ground to strengthen and improve the learning curve.

It gets boring at some point. Growth happens. Quarrels happen. Disagreements happen.

When all this happens, it is not an avenue to look outside in search of a new person.

All you need do at this point is to put things into better perspective.

Communicate. Learn. Improve. Understand what happened. Be intentional. Speak with love and care.

Finding and jumping into a new relationship will not save you.

Fine, let’s say you jump into a new relationship today. That new relationship, you’ll start all over again from Stage 1 - “the sweet infatuation phase.”

Once the sweet stage passes, what then happens?

Arguments and disagreements will start.

So what would you do then?

Search for another fish in the ocean? Laughable.

Is that how you’ll keep jumping?

Why not sit down, put your arms, your legs, head, body, soul, spirit, heart, and mind together so you can push your current relationship to the promised land?

I’m speaking from firsthand experience and I’ll tell you this in all honesty: since my ex and I separated, the dating market hasn’t been favorable. It’s saturated by leeches and witches, ready to kill and destroy.

Stay in that relationship, so long as they are keen on improving, same page with you, apologetic, and importantly not toxic. Stay and make it work.

The grass only gets greener where it’s watered. Like I would always say, only the intentional & wise lovers make it out to the end in a relationship. A word is enough…

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Emotions run high. Consciousness goes haywire as the brain embarks on a field trip with the mind.

I throw these questions into the air each time.

They bounce off the four corners of my room & land back on the tip of my big toe.

Inwardly? I’m downcast.

You engross me in melancholy.
You ambushed me with hostility,
confined me in anguish.

It’s vile. Villainous & Nefarious.

I’m conflicted over which adjective best describes this ordeal.

You sleep peacefully at night despite knowing you placed my emotions in harm’s way?

My heart is a squashed pancake.

Devoid of shape, scraped to pieces,
& served to the dogs.

I’m stuck in a maze of iniquity.

I seek tranquility.

An arduous task it has proven to be thus far.

Asleep that night when I felt a presence. I slowly opened my eyes and peeped.

Yo!

It was a woman. A familiar woman.

A friend of my mum’s, Madam Sharon.

She wore a white dress and sat quietly at the top edge of my bed.

I couldn’t scream. No words came out of my mouth.

All i could do was peep at her as she sat there, staring back at me.

Suddenly, i felt something run from the middle of my back all the way up to my hair.

Gosh!

It was her hand.

Her hand was running through my back up to my hair.

But how can she do this?

When she is literally sitting still right in front of me.

Do witches have long hands? Oh God… I’m dead.

Then another thought hit me.

Is there another presence in here apart from her?

I tried to scream.

“Jesus! Mummy! Daddy! God!”

Nothing.

No sound came out.

It felt like I was trapped in a room where only me could hear myself.

The hand grabbed my hair and pulled it backwards.

I stiffened my head against the bed in fear before slowly turning around.

It was Madam Sharon’s daughter.

She stood behind me, dressed in red.

Quickly, i buried my face in the pillow.

“Father Lord, if I make it through this night, I’ll worship You even harder.”

After a few seconds, i looked again.

Madam Sharon’s daughter was dancing in the middle of my bedroom.

Madam Sharon remained seated at the top edge of my bed, nodding her head gently as her daughter danced.

Then i heard drums. Loud drums.

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I still don’t understand how they never woke anyone in the house.

My little brother, who normally wakes up at the slightest sound, was sleeping peacefully right beside me.

That’s when I realized I was the only one who could hear them.

My heartbeat raced.

My feet turned cold.

Even with the air conditioner on, sweat covered my body.

“I’m dying today,” I whispered.

I pressed my face back into the pillow.

Then something strange happened.

It felt like I was moving through the clouds.

God… am I being transported?

I slowly opened my eyes.

The drums were louder now.

Everything around me was darker.

It didn’t feel like my bedroom anymore.

We’re floating.

But where are they taking me?

God… I’m dead.

I was soaked in my own pee, crying and praying.

Within seconds, everything became blurry.

Was I drugged?

I think I lost consciousness.

When I opened my eyes again, my hands were tied.

My legs were tied.

My mouth was taped shut.

My clothes were gone.

At least they had the courtesy to leave my undershorts on.

The drums started again.

People danced in circles around me while I sat in the middle.

Madam Sharon watched from a high seat, almost like a throne, while her daughter danced with strange unsettling movements.

Then a voice echoed.

“THE KNIFE AND CALABASH ARE PREPARED.”

The voice sounded familiar.

I turned to look.

It was my mum.

Mummy… Do you want to sacrifice your own child?

“Mummy, please save me.”

“Mummy, don’t tell me you’re part of this group.”

“Mummy… how did we get here?”

I screamed every word inside my heart because the tape wouldn’t let me speak.

Tears rolled freely down my face.

“Silence!” she ordered as she stepped closer.

I trembled.

The response was immediate.

The drums stopped.

The dancing stopped.

The singing stopped.

Even the chanting died instantly.

She began to move.

Slowly.

Gracefully.

She swirled around, making strange dance movements while chanting words I couldn’t understand.

Everyone bowed.

Every single one of them.

Even Madam Sharon.

Even her daughter.

I stared in disbelief.

Wait…

My mum is the Queen of this group?

Not Madam Sharon like I thought?

My God.

The smallest person among them walked over and removed the tape from my mouth.

I screamed.

“Mummy, save me!”

“Mummy, save me!”

She looked straight into my eyes.

“SHUT UP!”

“You are not my son!”

“You are not my son!”

“You were adopted!”

“Your time on earth ends tonight!”

TBC…

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Monogamously obsessed.
I must confess.
In my life, you come first.
I stare into your eyes;
your lips lead every conquest.

You govern my mind;
my heart grants your every request.
Touch by touch, your body I caress.
Twist & turn, you put me in duress.
Only you I long to undress.

Through every trial,
my love knows no regress.
No matter the persecution,
this love, I profess.

Like Odysseus and Penelope,
our story needs no embellishment.
I string the bow, I loose the arrow.
For you alone, I’ll fight every contest.

The one I got on my left arm?
I still haven’t gotten rid of it.
Why get rid of it?
No day has gone past without the thoughts of you running through my head.
You stabbed me!
The wound is evident!

Thoughts of you have been consistent.
Every millisecond. Every second. Every minute. Every hour, and every single day.
I still can’t get over the fact that you left.

What was your aim?
What was the gain to be attained?
The reason why you left, have you found it yet?
If yes, why not do me the honors to let me know?
Send me a text or an email.
If you can’t bring yourself to do those, you can send me a Raven. I’ll wait, even if it takes a year for it to get to me.

What made you leave? I’m curious.
Don’t leave me hanging, please.
It feels obtuse.
I’m immensely confused.
My head is contused.
My soul is all bruised.
What is this agony? I used to be your muse.
Since you left, blurry defined my vision.
Barely can I see. Poor is my refraction.
Please respond to me. I’m ready for reparations.

I’m stuck in your scent.
It’s been four years, and I’m still in search of my senses. Can the heavens touch your heart?
How could you even do that?
You left at a time I needed you the most.
You were aware Daddy was sick.
You proceeded to leave. At the exact time when daddy’s health deteriorated?
At a time when I needed emotional support the most?
Not up to 24 hours after you broke us without any explanation, Daddy passed away.
I dropped you a text to inform you.
You simply wrote, “R.I.P.”
I asked, “Is that all?”
You responded, “What do you want me to say?”
I cried my eyes out.

I guess I expected too much.
You were cold, you were cruel, you were mean.
I’ve never experienced you in that manner before.
Did you hate me already? That quick? 😭
You never checked on me again to know how I was doing mentally and emotionally. By any chance did you think I was lying? Lying and trying to manipulate your emotions so you’d come back to me? I guess I’ll never know.

I’ll stop here for now.

Angela? God sees all. 😭

I’m still waiting for an answer you probably won’t give😔

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She gave me a ring last night.

Her first word? “Babe.”

Me???!! 😳

My ears stood erect in disbelief.

Quickly, I asked, “Babe??? You’re calling me babe?”

“Yes, baby. Ain’t you my babe?” she replied.

Just as I was about to say, “But we broke up…”

She shushed me instantly. 😩

“Y-Yeah… I am,” I accepted without delay.

Then she said in a seductive voice,

“Make-up loving tomorrow by eight.
It’s a love-making date.
Rest tight. We’ll fight.
Probably take flight.
I’ll drain you till you surrender your widow’s mite.”

Then my alarm screamed.
I opened my eyes.
My room was empty.
Angela… where are you? 😭

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I sit in Mummy’s kitchen, reflecting.

My body? I own.

Soul and spirit? On Mars.

My hands run through the fur of my kitten.

On my thighs, Jess sits as she meows.

Barely could I hear her.

Her cry seemed to come from a distance.

Oh, shit!

I’m lost in a trance.

Excessively, I’m reflecting.

My thoughts? Unsettling.

I’m damned.

It’s upsetting.

She overwhelms my thoughts.

Anxiety. I’m drowning in anxiety.

Sanity. She’s messing with my sanity.

Are you still making us suffer for the sins of our forefathers?

Take a break already!

What audacity!

Tardily,

she’s coming for humanity.

No bargains.

No one gets immunity.

No crime committed.

So what’s the crime committed?

Why do we bear her penalties without impunity?

Isn’t that cruelty?

Time of her arrival?

No certainty.

She doesn’t knock.

She doesn’t text.

She doesn’t wait until you’re ready.

Like a thief in the night, she arrives.

A baby cries.

A mother prays.

A husband hopes.

A daughter waits.

She doesn’t care.

Irrespective of the situation,

she thrives.

Piety?

What piety?

I’m a believer in piety.

Whether or not you practiced chastity,

she sweeps you off quietly.

Coy she is,

cloaked in ambiguity.

What is the purpose of humanity?

To be born,

to love,

to lose,

to suffer,

then be gone?

Vanity!

All is vanity.

And tomorrow,

someone else’s chair

will be empty.

What is this cycle of madness?

Thank you for reading🙂

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Angela, my baby, is that how it goes?
Last night we had dinner, you massaged my toes.
You threw it back on the back-shots, then I burst on your ten toes.

What’s with the cheating? Man! Only God knows. Oh my days!
I was about to propose. 😭

Eight years of love, just washed down the hose.
I thought you were different,
but are you just one of the hoes?

Insanity spins where my heartbeat slows.
You’re worse than Dirty Diana
Michael Jackson already wrote those woes. 😔💔

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A child grows up in a home filled with fear.

A home with little or no love. No emotional reassurance. No real attention. No safe place to speak. Seeing an elephant dancing in the street would be more likely than seeing Mum and Dad laugh together or play with each other.

The child grows up without anyone willing to listen. Every attempt to speak is met with shouting, scolding, or punishment. So they learn to stay quiet. Why speak up when they’ll be blamed? Why explain themselves when they’ll be flogged, insulted, or sent to bed hungry? Of course, silence becomes survival.

Know what’s even sadder? They watch other parents laugh with their children and then quietly wonder, “Why is my family different?”

Years pass. The child becomes an adult. They struggle to express emotions except through anger. They’re timid around people yet sometimes unnecessarily aggressive. Emotional regulation feels foreign. Speaking softly feels unnatural. Vulnerability feels like weakness.

Then love enters their life. Someone who listens. Someone who reassures them. Someone who is patient. Instead of embracing it, they push it away. Why? Affection feels uncomfortable. Emotional conversations feel cringe. Being genuinely cared for feels suspicious.

Is it because they’re evil? No.

Is it because they don’t want love? No.

Why then?

Because they’ve spent most of their formative years in a home where love was rarely shown, emotional expression was discouraged, and vulnerability often came with consequences.

Most children grow into adults reflecting the kind of love they were taught. And when they were never taught healthy love, receiving it can feel just as unfamiliar as giving it.

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Can you imagine being in a relationship with someone like this? And you genuinely want to build something with them. Your patience? Needs to be as tall as the Burj Khalifa.

Bluntly, patience alone isn’t even enough.

Understanding someone’s childhood explains their behaviour, but it doesn’t excuse hurting others. Healing remains their responsibility.

Healing only begins when they are willing to acknowledge their wounds, unlearn old survival patterns, and choose a healthier way of loving.

Sincerely, how was your childhood?

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Road accidents happen every single day, yet we still get into our cars to drive. We hop on motorcycles, bicycles, and scooters without letting yesterday’s tragedy become today’s and tomorrow’s prison.

A plane crashes today? Thousands of people still board flights before the day ends.

Mount Everest is home to the frozen bodies of climbers who never made it back. Yet every year, climbers still look forward to the climb.

Risk has never stopped people from living.

So why should one failed relationship stop you from loving?

Every worthwhile thing in life comes with uncertainty.

Businesses fail.

Friendships end.

Dreams collapse.

Hearts break.

But we keep trying because the possibility of something beautiful is worth the risk.

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There will always be negative stories. Someone will tell you love isn’t real. Another someone will tell you loyalty doesn’t exist. Another will warn you never to trust again because of what happened to them.

Listen, I beg you, don’t surrender your future to someone else’s past. A past that must have failed them. A past that doesn’t define your own future.

One person betrayed you is not proof that everyone will betray you. One broken relationship is not evidence that love is broken.

Don’t let a bad ex convince you that genuine people no longer exist. Don’t build walls so high that the very new person that is capable of loving you cannot get in.

Protect your heart? Yes.

Learn from your mistakes? Absolutely.

But don’t become so afraid of pain that you reject the possibility of joy.

The greatest relationships are built by people who had every reason to quit on love but chose to believe again. A bad ex was just a chapter. Please don’t let them become the title of your entire story.

I’m rooting for you 💛

A bad ex was just a chapter. Please don’t let them become the title of your entire story.

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You crave real love.

No matter how genuine,

you must suffer to find it.

And when it’s found?

you suffer to keep it.

For to love is to suffer.

You don’t want to suffer?

Then stay away from love.

But if you stay away from love,

you suffer the loneliness of having no lover.

You don’t want to suffer a life without having a lover?

Then embrace the sufferings of love.

There is no in-between.

I say to you:

To find love, you suffer.

Not to find love, you suffer.

It is exciting to fall in love.

To keep that excitement alive is to suffer.

And no one wants to suffer.

But if no one wants to suffer,

then how does anyone ever find love?

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She was sleek. The peaceful warmth in my heart froze as she slowly dished out this heartbreak like a quiet winter storm. The shards pierced through my chest, etching an unforgettable scar in my heart.

Building 39C, Apartments 46 and 47. A long trip from London to Miami. Oblivious I was to everything looming; the signs were glaring. The scent was all over the room, yet my sense of smell moved in woeful malfunction. I was deeply embedded in this love that even a sloth would have made decisions faster than I did. Again, she was sleek, intelligent with the Orangutan brains

Sixty gruesome days spent in Miami:

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BEFORE THE TRIP TO MIAMI

Behind me, she booked her flight and paid for her own apartment, for a trip we both planned. I asked, “Why?” and in her words, “I suggest we share separate rooms for the sake of change.” I mumbled in a shaky voice, “Aren’t we a couple?” She responded firmly, “Book your own apartment or I’ll cancel my flight entirely.” I clenched my teeth in pain for a second. I quickly obliged, “Okay, baby.” I was oblivious to that which was looming.

IN MIAMI

Building 39C, Apartments 46 and 47. Same building, different rooms. Hers, 46. Mine, 47. She insisted I drop a text informing her before I knocked on her door to see her. This was obnoxious. Guess what? I obliged.

The first time I knocked, did she open the door? No. Her reason? She said she had suddenly gotten on a call with her dad. When did I suddenly become a stranger to her dad? Four year old relationship, and I needed an invite to speak to my girl. If this was the card she was going to play, at least she could have told me to wait on text instead of inviting me over only to ignore my knocks. Isn't that disrespectful? Did I look into this? No. Oblivious I was again to what was looming.

On the second attempt to see her in her apartment, I texted, double texted, even triple texted. My messages? “Read” on iMessage, yet no replies. Furious, I got up, walked out, and knocked on her door to elicit a response, to no avail. A thought whispered in my heart, “Go check social media.” Lo and behold, she was in a club in New York, having a decent time. I had to check my phone to confirm my location. I was filled with questions. How did she fly to New York on just our third day in Miami? A three hour thirty minute flight, for that matter? When did she book this? What was the motive behind it? How was this orchestrated?

Three days later, she responded to my messages, saying she needed alone time. I asked where she was; she said, “At my friend’s in New York.” I asked, “When are we going to have a fun time together?” She responded, “Soon, but for now, you can have fun with whomever. I’m not bothered.” At this point, my brain started thinking something must be up. Guess what? My heart shunned it. Again, oblivious I was to what was looming.

Until day sixty, we never saw each other again. The last time I laid eyes on her was when we checked into Apartments 46 and 47. I spent sixty days in Miami hurt, distraught, confused, and suspended between hope and reality.

I flew back to London alone. Two days after I arrived, a message lit up my phone. ‘We ain’t no more.’ Atelectasis. That’s what it felt like. As though my lungs had folded into themselves. My eyes closed, and my knees surrendered to the floor.

The signs had been everywhere. I was simply too in love to read them. To this day, I have never received an explanation. Not then. Not now.”

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I was at this party with my guy in Portugal the other day. While on the dance floor, I spotted a cutie standing alone at the bar, and I decided to shoot my shot. My friend and I were in different parts of the venue, so I had the field to myself. She turned out to be extremely warm and receptive. As a chill guy, I did what I do. Got us drinks, we vibed, laughed, exchanged numbers, and made plans to continue the night after the party. I spent decent money, not to flex, but hey, money makes the world go round, right?

Fast forward to the end of the night. She grabbed her coat, fully ready to roll with me. I called my friend, who was also ready to leave but clearly in a bad mood because his night had been a bust. We hopped in the car, and that’s when everything exploded. My friend suddenly yelled, “Betty!” I froze. Betty? My Betty? Before I could process it, she lit up, “Samuel! You came to Portugal without telling me?”

Long story short, they’ve been in a long-distance relationship for over a year. I sat there in the backseat, third-wheeling the most awkward reunion of all time. One minute I’m feeling like I just had a successful night out; next minute I’m basically a background character in a love story I didn’t even know existed. The drinks, the vibe, the plans, all of it just quietly expired in real time.

And honestly, I can’t even be mad. It’s a lie. I’m in tears😭!

That night taught me something weird about timing and people. You’re not always stepping into a blank story. Sometimes you’re stepping into a plot that’s already been running for years, and nobody gave you the memo. I just happened to be the unfortunate guy in this situation.

But on a side note, don’t you think she’s a potential cheat, and my guy is a potential cheat as well?

Think about it.

- By Ug🥀

Difficult conversations are a necessity in every healthy relationship. Yet many couples get this wrong. They sideline their partners, shut the door on honest conversations, become dismissive, and somehow convince themselves it won’t affect the relationship.

How?

If the very thing that builds understanding is absent, what exactly do you expect to happen?

Imagine both partners continually avoiding difficult conversations. What do you think the outcome will be?

It will look something like this:

1. Plenty of sweet “I love you” moments.

2. Plenty of calm, conflict-free days.

3. Faux serenity.

To the superficial eye, everything appears peaceful. But dig a little deeper, and the picture changes. Ironic, isn’t it?

You may wonder, “How?”

Because those “I love you” moments gradually become shallow. The “I love you” moments lose weight because the relationship isn’t growing beneath the surface. You’re talking, but you’re not truly communicating. You’re avoiding the uncomfortable truths that should be spoken with love, respect, and kindness.

Yes, there will be fewer arguments.

Why?

Because conversations are being avoided.

You notice something that hurts you, but you remain silent because you don’t want to seem confrontational. You disagree with something your partner says, but you suppress your thoughts because you’re trying to preserve the peace.

But is it really peace?

How can a relationship grow when the conversations that strengthen it are never had?

That’s where faux serenity begins.

Faux happiness.

Faux joy.

Faux smiles.

Faux intimacy.

Everything becomes a performance until emotional detachment quietly settles in. Then comes resentment. Eventually, the relationship breaks apart.

Without realizing it, you’re both drifting farther from each other, sinking into the deep end while convincing yourselves everything is fine.

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So, what’s the solution?

Converse.

Have the difficult conversations.

Speak your mind with kindness. Help your partner understand where they may be getting it wrong. Explain how you want to be loved, and be willing to listen to how they want to be loved too.

Growth doesn’t happen through silence.

It happens through conversations that are honest enough to challenge you, yet gentle enough to keep love alive.

Those conversations don’t suffocate a relationship.

They oxygenate it.

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By Ug🥀

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My eyes? Shut.

My mouth? Sealed.

Entrapped in what seemed like a dark room.

I attempted to move.

I staggered across the room.

Every step I took met a wall.

A wall in front.

A wall behind.

A wall on either side.

By grace, my eyes unsealed.

The room was dark, dark as the depths of an abandoned well.

Yet your name glowed from every corner.

Every wall.

Every shadow.

Every silence.

Even here, in this prison of darkness, my heart still yearns for you.