I’m a good girl by the basic standards. No, allow me to just say it this one time. I’m a good girl. I’ve never been drunk (does wine count?), never smoked (not even weed) and never did the walk of shame. I was proud of it all. Until I was not so proud of it.
Josh Harris is no longer a Christian. And he’s getting a divorce. I don’t know if you understand the weight of those two statements, but I can make it simpler. It’s like saying the pope is no longer catholic and he’s getting married. Although that wouldn’t be so bad.
It feels like my whole youth life was a lie. If you’re still using a yahoo email account, Josh Harris is (was) a pastor and an author. He wrote I Kissed Dating Goodbye and Boy Meets Girl. For a Christian girl who believed Sidney Sheldon was evil and never read Mills and Boons, Josh Harris was my dating and sexuality compass.
Granted, he has apologized and cancelled printing of his books. I have nothing against the guy, but what I’m I supposed to do with all the decisions I made because I believed him? And the other co-admins in his WhatsApp group?
It’s not just about him really. There are numerous things I believed and life has poked holes in almost all of them. Is there really a way of living that is superior to another? What’s the point of offering advice and guidance if one will wake up one day and ‘apologise’ for all of it?
For some reason, I believed that being a ‘good girl’ guaranteed me more happiness than others in some ways. That I would have no regrets and my choices were the good ones. But were they? I’m I? I don’t know.
I’ve encountered some deconstruction of sorts. A reprogramming of my mind and a whole new set of lenses for looking at the world. One thing is constant – Jesus is Lord and saviour of the world. But everything else is varied. I don’t know everything. Oh, God, I don’t. But I’ve been thinking. And that is something I failed to do earlier. Think.
I consumed information that sounded right and didn’t think much about it. And now when the ‘influencers’ of that time start having conflicts of choices and beliefs of their own, I’m caught up in their undoing. It may be subtle and almost invisible, but it’s there.
So, I’ll save you future heartache with a couple of truths. Take them with a sprinkle of cinnamon. If I regret them one day, you’ll hate me a little less.
Kutangulia sio kufika
This might the only time I get to use all the Swahili I studied so I’m not translating that. Google exists for such times as this.
This is one thing I like to tell my friends who feel ‘left out’ or ‘late’ in any life development. If others got ‘it’ before you, it doesn’t make yours less valuable, whatever ‘IT’ is.
If I got married first, I will not be ‘more married’ than you when you finally do. I got married way before one of my very good friends and even got 2 babies. Then she got hitched much later and God hit her with twins. Now we’re even.
I bought my first car 8 years after I graduated. I’m as good a driver as anyone else on that road. Except for the part where I ran someone over last week. (Story for another blog post). My point is, my car didn’t come with three wheels or one side mirror because I bought it ‘late’.
Only date with the intention to marry
(Insert Simon Cowell’s rejection buzzer. Ng’eeeeee)
Date to know the person. If you discover things you can’t live with, leave. I do not understand why single people behave like tortured pilgrims while the rest of us have ‘arrived’. The sole goal in life is to arrive.
Truth is, we look at you from behind the diapers and gold-rings curtains and wish we’d tell you. You’re free. Free to plan a trip overnight and actually go out. Free to carry a bag the size of Sonko’s brain and your clothes fit for two week’s trip.
You can accept a job in any part of this world and move without flinching. I’d need to fetch a thorn from the bottom of Longonot crater before I can even propose relocating.
You can still order dinner from Jumia. The rest of us have to cook a three-course meal for most of the week. There are days I just want to boil an egg and eat it with some salsa salad and sleep. But I have two little mouths that don’t know how f.a.t.i.g.u.e is spelt.
Some people live as though they will only start living when they finally get someone to wear matching vitenges with. I don’t know when ‘married’ became superior to ‘single’. Singlehood is not a disability or ‘situation’ you need to get out of. Enjoy this season. Quit complaining. Live. Now.
If you’re not satisfied with being single, you’ll never be satisfied with being married. The problem is within, you’ll carry it wherever you go. Learn to find your completion in God and your loudest cheerleader.
Make your own Rules
Don’t live your life based on somebody else’s “Great discovery”. Make your own discoveries and mistakes. According to your faith and personality, make your life’s rules and live by them.
Study. Read books and get knowledge. But when it comes to the basic irreducible minimums and your life’s anchor, make your own rules. Do things because you’re convinced of them, not because you read “127 ways to live your best life now’.
It’s our 6th wedding anniversary today. I have loved this 6th year in a way I didn’t live the previous ones. I was a little less hard on myself and Mr.K. I learned what works for ME.
I have learned that sometimes you juggle the balls and catch none. And that I can actually eat chocolate from the toilet and it tastes just as good. I’m less preachy and controlling. And it doesn’t matter what the books say, a woman needs her own money.
Love God. Do stupid stuff. Get silly. Be young. Mature is overrated, be childish!