Snow Storm Jonas Blew in Some Clarity..

A month ago yesterday, I embarked on a crazy trip half way across the world to find something I thought would be worth it. Whimsical to say the least, but a thing I felt so strongly about doing that I knew I had to. So I did. And boy what a trip it’s been…

While I promise to organise my thoughts on everything that has happened and then write them down because something this big must be documented in the most special way I know how, this is not the reason for this post. Rather, I am writing this because I am having a slight existential crisis, with regards to our generation and technology. And myself.

I had always said that I wasn’t like all the other kids that can’t exist without the validation of likes on the wide array of social media platforms available to us today. Who can’t truly enjoy a moment without ruining it by thinking of the best way to capture it and present it to the world. Who will then ooh an aah and make you feel special and better than them because you are doing such cool things, with such cool people..at such cool places. I prided myself on this because I could see how it clearly formed the greatest petri dish of all the nutrients required to perfectly construct the worlds fakest relationships.

I know people who live for their feeds.

Now I have always known all this, and although I have felt as though I was above this stupid way of ‘living’ that takes so much away from you as a person, I realised recently just how guilty of it I am. I realised it because I for the first time really came into contact with someone who genuinely doesn’t care for it. At all. And I think the fact that he is the same reason I traveled half way across the world, means that he is important to me and I truly value his opinion.

Something amazing happens when you love someone. You start to see yourself through their eyes. And because you are beautifully clouded by love, you want everything they see to be good. I saw him see me, and watched as he failed to understand the importance of documenting moments to the extent that we do. In my bubble of people that do the same thing, this was not normal. Almost expected. It wasn’t to him.

He called me out. It made me stop. ‘Are the people on your computer more important than actual people here, than actual things that we’re trying to do, than our time together?’ I had no real answer…I hadn’t made that connection although as soon as he said it I knew it was the obvious one to make. When you prioritise Facebook/ Instagram/ Whatever above whatever it is that you’re really doing then you insult on the deepest level the importance of what you are doing, and perhaps maybe even more so, who you are doing it with. And if the people around you aren’t affected by it, then I think it may be time to evaluate those people.

Anyway, I had no phone for the last month. Not by choice but its the best thing that could have happened. I had no Instagram. And Facebook required effort and time. I got a new phone yesterday and one of the accounts I decided to check into this morning was Instagram. The most amazing thing happened. I was on it for a total of 5 min. I found the entire feed to be overwhelming so I decided to actually search for people that I cared to ‘catch up’ with. I literally checked seven people’s feeds. Seven. I follow 400 people and I was interested in less than 10. I can’t for the life of figure out why I have the rest of those other people there. They make me tired. They add no value. Yes they are pretty…but then what? I looked at my own feed. I have 500 followers. Why do these people follow me? Do I present any value to them apart from being good to look at? We have so much time to impact each other positively yet we mostly waste the chance with nonsense. The people whose feeds I looked at, were real. They were nice people that I cared about. They added value to my life.

That is what I want. I want to be valuable. I just want to transcend the nonsense.

‘We don’t need a scrapbook for life’…I agree. I’m so happy to have someone that makes me better.

Love,

Noni

Body Issues- Where Are My Curves?

I’m making my highly anticipated (by me) come back to the blogging world with this racy little number. I was looking through my archives when I came across this picture. I found myself appreciating this thing that is my body, and almost in the same breath my brain flipped back to when I didn’t feel that my body was a thing of pride. And it boggled me how I had gotten to this place of body confidence. I knew then that I wanted to discuss body issues.

I think as young women, and I’m quite certain, young men, we have all had to deal with them. And if you’re anything like me, you’re still dealing with them. When I was younger, all I wanted was to get curves. Those notorious African curves, that if you’re blessed enough to be born black, are just all around you. All the time. And you know what I got? Lankiness. Just long, skinny, awkward limbs that wouldn’t stop growing. Even when I dedicated entire prayers before bedtime to being shorter. I distinctly remember in grade seven having a prayer that said ‘God, please…PLEASE make me shorter. Amen’. I will not discuss the disappointment I experienced in the morning.

When my growth spurt did show signs of slowing down, the next challenge was my curves. They weren’t showing up. Prayers changed to ‘Nkosi, ngicela i- hip-to-waist ratio e-better.’ Sigh. Let’s just say, the struggle was ever so real.

If you or anyone you know is going through this, You won’t find help here. I don’t know where your curves are. I can’t tell you why your friends are developing faster than you. Even at that age I realised that God was more likely than not ignoring my ‘bigger butt please’ prayers because there were things slightly more urgent on his to-do list. I stopped sweating it. I got busy. I excelled at things I loved and thus gave attention to. And one day I walked past a mirror and realised that my body had arrived. It hadn’t made a grand gesture, just quietly taken its shape in silence. Those sharp edges rounded out, that bony structure fleshed out and I filled out where I needed to.

I still don’t have killer curves, and I certainly don’t have a music video booty (you laugh, but it was a sad day when I realised I could never be a video vixen, even if I wanted to)…but all of these ‘limitations’ fell away when I fell in love with my body. I have a fantastic body. It’s fully functional, it listens to me, it looks after me. My body is strong and limber. It very graciously doesn’t hold grudges from the continuous abuse, all the while carrying out a gazillion internal functions without ever disrupting my life.

I know body image is a touchy subject, and issues that have to be overcome with regards to ones body are unique to each person and their body.However, there are some truths that I feel hold for us all: You only have one body, this one body is your vehicle through life, the means by which you will interact with most of your experiences. Does it not make sense to then fall in love first with your own body, bettering it any way you can? Not because of pressure from society, but simply because you understand the impact it has on your quality of life. And when you accept and love yours, it makes it so much easier to do the same for the people in our lives that matter, adding depth to those relationships because you can better understand other peoples insecurities, after having dealt with your own.

Everybody has body insecurities. Fleeting or last lasting, minor or deep-rooted. Be mindful. Be kind. Start with yourself.

Love yours.

Noni

The Hair Issue. 2.0 – From Natural to Getting a Weave

 This post has been a long time coming. I will start by stating the obvious. I have a weave. I love my weave. I think it’s the best accessory I have ever purchased lol. My point is that, I really am enjoying my new hair.

Getting this hair was not an easy call for me. In as much as that might sound silly, after wearing your hair out natural and openly supporting all things ‘team natural’…choosing to wear a weave may seem like a bit of a hypocritical move. Or so I thought. Now, I will always support team natural because (as I have mentioned before) I think we as African women are beautiful beyond measure, just as we are- free of any enhancement. What I did wrong, was to then place less value on those women who chose to make use of those enhancements. As if being natural was somehow better than not being natural. I cannot explain how I even got here because it was not something I ever thought outright and intentionally. in fact, in my first post about hair, I explicitly explained how I was no better than any woman who chooses to wear a weave and that one day I will chose to wear one too and it shouldn’t be a big deal. Boy was I wrong.

I somehow got so lost and confused in my quest to do the right thing that I didn’t even realise that I was being judgmental about something rather silly. I remember knowing that I really wanted to get a weave. I knew which one, how much it was, where I’d get it. Everything. But I couldn’t commit…because weaves were ‘wrong’ and they would go against everything I had been preaching about and the lifestyle I was living. I had basically boxed myself into a box where I was only allowed to either have an afro or braids. Who on earth wants that? Well…not me. I love variety. I love style. I love fun. Above all things, I love freedom. I need it in every sphere of my life. Even my hair. So you know what I did? I got a weave! And in that action I reminded myself that it’s okay to change the way you think, It’s okay to want something different, and above all else. I don’t ever have to explain myself to anyone.

Minor victories. Big impacts. This growth thing is tricky. There are no set rules, and more and more I’m realising that it’s not unlike forging a completely new path. Exhilarating, yet scary. But it promises to be worth it…so I’m gonna stuff my panties with hope and do my best. Join me?

Love,

Noni