Six Ten AM

My daddy issues are endless, aren’t they? The lore is quite simple: my mother and my bio father had me extremely young. She was an impressionable 16-year-old. I won’t even speak on him, but he’s a sore subject in our household—and understandably so. Because when she finally told me their story, as a woman, having any contact with him made me feel uncomfortable, I suppose. And the fact that I may or may not have a sister somewhere in this city—4 months younger than me? That’s a whole other thing to unpack. Anyway, we bumped into each other earlier this year, and he messaged me on Facebook. I never use that app, so I only saw the text last month, I think. We got to talking about stuff, and he asked to see pictures of my daughter. He had even wanted to meet up, but we missed each other. And honestly? I’m grateful, because I never know what to say around him. In person, that is. My silence is so loud I’d win Beyoncé’s mute challenge. But then the man disappeared. I sent him a te...

After a certain point, some things just become too boring to entertain—especially what people think of you. I’m acknowledging that I’m mentally not in a good space. I don’t have the energy for much at the moment, and I keep getting unfounded, unsolicited opinions thrown at me, which is actually pissing me off. “Why are you letting this get to you?” Because of  who  is making these opinions. I cannot stand people who claim to know me because I barely know myself. I’m aware that I don’t give everyone the same version of me. Sure, there are consistencies in my character, but so much of who I am is influenced by the day-to-day life I live. There’s a lot I keep to myself because I know exactly what certain people judge others for. Maybe that’s a defense mechanism—I don’t know. These people say things that completely miss the mark, and it infuriates me because they genuinely believe they’ve got me all figured out. I’m not a puzzle to be solved. What I am, though, is someone who cons...

Guys, I’ve been on a streak of bad luck lately. My phone fell from my daughter’s cot and quite literally decided it’s done with life. Normally, I’d respect that decision—except it’s my phone, and I need it. It’s got everything on there. Maybe I should start a series called Keeping Up with Ntswaki (or Tess—take your pick. I write as Ntswaki, but otherwise, I’m Tess). I could keep you all updated on my chaotic life instead of starting blogs like this. What do you think? Right, let’s get into it, shall we? And yes, read that in a British accent, please. So, I’ve been sitting with this thought for a while, debating whether I even wanted to say it out loud. Mainly because I’ve realized some people—whether it’s from my blogs, statuses, or random musings—like to make shoes fit when they were never even in the store. People have reached a level of internalizing generalizations that’s honestly wild. Let me make this clear: I am...  not thinking about you like that. At least, not to the p...

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...