Six Ten AM

I come back! I disappeared for a few reasons. First, I’ve been having the worst migraine episodes. This time of year isn’t great for me, and it’s only about to get worse. Can you imagine? Second, anxiety has been kicking my ass! I don’t really know why, but a few days ago, I hit a low point—I literally couldn’t get out of bed because of an overwhelming sense of impending doom. Today, I had an anxiety attack over something I needed to do, and I ended up crying on my way home. So yeah, things haven’t been looking good for me in the mental health or physical health department. But I’m momentarily back to give my two cents on a longstanding internet debate that has never made sense to me. Earlier today, I came across a video of a woman responding to the common  phrase,  “After a long day, I can’t imagine coming home to children.” She said it was odd for people to comment on a life they’re not living. She explained that after a long day, she can’t wait to get home to her kids. Som...

Last Friday, I had my first moot exam. Truthfully, I had no idea what to expect. While most of my classmates were doing their moots earlier this year, I was in a hospital, recovering from an unexpected delivery of my daughter, who decided to make her debut a month early. Since then, I’ve been grappling with a lot of questions. Was everything unfolding the way it was meant to? Am I still on the right path, or am I just holding onto a sinking ship? These thoughts aren’t new—I’ve been battling inner turmoil about school for a while now. It’s wild, really, considering it’s exam season. You’d think I’d be desperate for a break, but instead, I found myself missing school. FOMO will do that to you. I’ve always loved academia; it’s a space where I feel alive. But like most things in life, it comes with its share of complications. Over the last few years, I’ve had to navigate a fair number of those, and at times, they’ve made me wonder if I belong here at all. Anxiety, as always, hasn’t bee...

I guess you could say this is my way of shooting my shot for mom friends  (how awkward of me)! I love the idea of a community where moms can come together to share the highs and lows, offer advice, and just feel understood. Parenthood can feel isolating at times, and a space like this feels so needed. This is a place for everyone—no judgment, no pressure, just real support. We know the ‘mommy police’ are everywhere, but here, it’s all about lifting each other up and creating friendships that actually make us feel good. Whether you’re here to ask for advice, share a funny story, or just have a place to vent, you’re welcome! So if you’re looking for a community that really ‘gets it’, come join me. Let’s make this our village, where we can all support each other through every phase of motherhood. https://chat.whatsapp.com/DXwxam9XXdp7ejMjY0KcJu

I wasn’t really sure how to approach this. Even now, I’m still not certain, if we’re being completely transparent. Just take what I say with a grain of salt.  Abeg.  Being in a relationship with someone well-known often feels like living under a magnifying glass, where people’s curiosity adds a layer of scrutiny. Because of that, I’ve always been reluctant to discuss my love life or offer relationship advice. Writing about this feels strange, almost obnoxious, because I’ve never been in a position where I’m so aware of others watching. I know it comes with the territory, but the truth is, I’m not him . He was made to be seen and heard, and he thrives in that space. I’m just wherever he is simply because I want to be. So no, I’m not going to pretend to be a social butterfly when anxiety beats my ass the way it does. I’m content as a wallflower. I’m not miserable, I promise… I just don’t enjoy being perceived.  Take my word for it.   That said, I’ve lear...

I don’t know if this post requires a trigger warning, but it’s a heavy read. Writing it was heavy. If you feel the need to stop reading, please do. I’m choosing to call this  my  first trimester because my pregnancy journey wasn’t what most people would call “normal.” It was my own, and it was anything but common. I had been wanting a baby for a while but had started to feel like I couldn’t get pregnant. So imagine my shock when the test came back positive.  I’ll start from the beginning. Grab some tea or something because we’re going to be here for a minute.  It was just a regular day in the Botswana heat. My partner and I were lounging in bed, but I remember feeling sluggish. I figured it was my period on its way—thanks to Flo—so the cramps weren’t a surprise. I felt so down in the dumps that I went to lie on the couch alone. By the time my partner left for Zimbabwe, I was about three days late. It didn’t alarm me, since I’m usually a few days early or late.  ...