4C hair

I haven’t posted for a while because I’ve been absolutely overwhelmed with work. But I’m back and I’m better!

Since this blog is about my life in general, I’ve decided to share another part of my life. Here is a poem entitled 4C:

She turns the chair around…. do you like it?

I nod unconvincing.

Trying to figure out the exact problem with the mirror image that stares back at me.

Is it the smooth curls of hair that flow down my back?

Or the perfectly parted waves that I tuck behind my ear?

I shake my head, and with this small motion, I shake away the unsettling thoughts that filled my mind only a moment ago.

Could you lay my edges?

This… is this the thought that attempted to creep into my consciousness. That battered its carefully crafted cage, howling for attention.

Or is it the fact that this will never feel natural.

It will never be the same as the curls that spiral unapologetically from my scalp.

My soft gravity- defying crown.

That I suppress and repress despite my assertions of love and affection.


Because it’s easier. I’m protecting my hair

Well you could learn how to control it.

Scratch that.

Because it looks better.

But how can anything that is fake look better than the real thing.

Interesting point.

Because it’s more acceptable.

There. There it is. The underlying reason that pushes me back to this chair,every time.


Feeling fruity?

Galatians 5:22-23 But the fruits of the Spirit are love, joy, peace, patience , kindness, goodness, faithfulness,gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.

So I was walking through the park the other day (because apparently I enjoy doing that nowadays). And I realised that I was completely, ridiculously, unapologetically happy. For no apparent reason. So maybe joyful is a better description?

And I realised that Joy is one of the fruits of the spirit. You know those attributes that our parents are forever telling us to try to acquire. Love, joy, peace, goodness etc. My parents have always told me that God gives us specific spiritual gifts. Like speaking in tongues or prophesying. So maybe it’s the same for the fruits of the spirit? Even though we should obviously try to have all of them, maybe there’s a specific one that’s always at work in our lives?

Even though I feel like mine is Joy, I can definitely see other fruits in other people. My older brother for example, his is definitely gentleness. Because it takes a lot to get him angry and even when he is angry, he reacts ridiculously rationally (something I definitely need to work on 😂).

And my best friend’s is faithfulness. Regardless of the situation you put her in, she will always be the same. I wonder what it’s like for other people?

New year, new tea?

As the new year begins I’m planning to change a few things in my life. Though I’ve always had resolutions, this year is going to be slightly different.

If 2018 has taught me anything, it’s that I need to start prioritising differently. That means God, my family and my studies will be the most important things in that order. As much as I love my friends and they are a priority, I’ve decided to start matching people’s energy and actually mean it. For most of my friendships, nothing will change, but there’s a few areas where I need to step back and prioritise myself. Need to protect my heart (and my bank account).

So what is this post really about? All ‘tea’ that applies to me is going to be good things. You know what they say, you gotta put your positive thoughts in the air as well.

I’m actually going to have fitness goals this year. For someone who genuinely used to hate hearing the word gym, this is a huge step for me lol. Less red meats/ processed foods and more vegetables. I think this will be my hardest resolution to keep to be honest.

And lastly, no more messy situations involving guys. I feel like a veto on all men is very naive but…. no more messaging first. If they’re really interested, they can make a move. If they don’t, maybe it’s not worth it. I’m a changed woman and I’m gonna love it.

The Average ‘Prince Harry’ Part 2

Moving on from a summer of misadventures, I arrived back at university bushy-tailed and bright-eyed expecting to stick to my veto on men. After very little persuasion, I yet again went on a night out, expecting to avoid the dramatic at all costs. Within an hour of being there, I bumped into Harry. I expected a slightly awkward hi and bye. But he shocked me. He started by apologising for being an absolute dick last year (which he was) and ended by telling me he was seeing someone. There were pit stops at I think you’re a really great girl and you deserve much better than me. Also I’m a f**k boy and I know there’s a really good guy out there for you. Whilst I felt like someone was breaking up with me, in a weird way, his drunken spiel was kind of sweet. Of course, I didn’t think of it as anything more than a drunken spiel but when he repeated it all again the next tine I saw him, it genuinely sounded like he had thought about it. Drunkenly at least; which is probably why he thought it was okay for him to self-proclaim his f- boy status. Though he was now single, he was still firmly on the path of pursuing another girl and I as a normal human being, took this to mean that he didn’t care at all.

Enter Oliver and the real reason why I ended up in boots. Oliver and Harry were  pretty good friends and seemed like the type to tell each other everything. Thus when Ollie tried to kiss me, I told him that I’d kissed his friend before and therefore nothing should happen. I was swiftly informed that Harry wouldn’t care and while feeling incredibly horny (yes virgins get horny too), and worn down due to his several attempts, let the kiss happen. Considering my usual luck, I wasn’t surprised when we bumped into Harry, who acted weirdly. I presumed it was because we had kissed before but didn’t think it was anything deeper than this. Some greater context for this, Ollie knew some of my university friends from home and generally had too many mutual acquaintances with me (A rookie mistake).

We ended up at his, didn’t have sex but did other things and he implied very strongly that this was a 1 night thing. Fast-forward past 2 direct messages from me (why do I never learn), one asking for a photo he had of our group and another highlighting an inbetweeners joke I had made on that night I crashed at his, we arrived back two weeks later, in yet another club. A drunken kiss later, I realised that this guy was sending mixed signals attempted to figure it out his motive without directly asking. This is where the mutual friends became a problem. Too many people knew, too many people were teasing us and there were too many instances where his name was brought up. Somehow, someway, this boy who had kissed ME several times took this to mean that I was keen on him and he need to let me down easy. *insert meme of man blinking rapidly in disbelief*. To my credit, I set him straight and naively believed that this would be the end of the Oliver saga.

Oh girl, why must you be so naive. Once again, I saw Ollie on a night out, he tried to kiss me. I replied with a pretty weak no because I was still attracted to Harry. Baring in mind that before this night I had always preferred Harry but figured there was no point in pursuing a guy who clearly didn’t even want to kiss me again. I was told that Ollie had been in more complicated situations than this and essentially it wasn’t that deep. Once again my inhibitions were dulled by alcohol and we ended up in my bed. And there was a moment where, without being to vulgar, his d**k went in for like, a second. And I froze. I don’t know if it was guilt or shock or surprise but it was as if time stopped. And then I of course pushed him off. Hence the Boots trip. Because I believed that a guy who had a lot more sexual experience than me would know when the morning after pill was required (it wasn’t by the way). But I don’t think that this changes my virginity status. Because it was an unintended accident and I didn’t experience sex in all it’s supposed glory.  Then my period came two weeks early as a result of the pill and it was really shitty.

But I think the worst part was the guilt. Because I couldn’t believe that I’d put myself in the position that I was that close to doing the deed. And that made me feel like I couldn’t be close to God for a few days. I know for certain that I don’t want to lose my virginity to a guy who thinks an adequate reply to my refusal to sleep with him is, ‘I promise I won’t be weird afterwards’. Like, get tf outta here. To add insult to injury, he said, with his chest, that he is most attracted to oriental girls. So I’m not even really his type.

An update on Harry: He spoke to one of my flat mates (Sober, I might add). And repeated his general thoughts of how I deserved this amazing guy and he could never be that person. That he hoped I’d find him and I’d stop wasting my time. He also said that the situation was messy and he’d never kiss me again. And it was at that moment that I realised, I done fucked up.

Because even though I consider the things he said to be the bare minimum, it’s nice to hear a guy put ‘my feelings’ above sexual pleasure and dopamine. So I guess he did care…. And maybe Princes aren’t as far away as we think.

What’s the moral of the story? If you can’t have the guy you really want, be single. It’s much easier

The Average ‘Prince Harry’ Part 1

Picture this: A 20 year old me, standing in boots whispering to the pharmacist that I needed the morning after pill. Now, you may be wondering how I, the woman who hadn’t even had sex, had ended up in this position. The short answer: Men are trash. The long answer, well for that I’d need to start from the very beginning.

I’ve always been the kind of girl that it never really happened for. When I say this, I’m not referring to my academics or family or friends but rather my ‘love life’. I’d always been the girl that a guy got with just before he realised that he really wanted to settle down. Kind of like the final pit stop before you reach Disneyland. Having accepted my fate by the third year of university, I’d decided to stop looking for the elusive good guy and attempt to concentrate on my studies.

It’s pretty weird but whenever you tell people that you want to concentrate on your studies they assume that it’s because you can’t find or keep a man. Rather than realising that maybe I no longer want to be involved in the male drama that seems to follow me everywhere.

Unfortunately I, like all human beings still have needs. Though I don’t have sex, life seems to be infinitely better when you have someone to kiss. And I figured, since I don’t want a boyfriend, a few harmless kisses here and there would be fine. Before I delve into the reason why I was in Boots whispering to a pharmacist, I just want to understand why I end up in these situations. Apparently I’m emitting two of the worst signals. 1. Please come and waste my time and take mi fi eediat (take me for an idiot) and 2. I’m a weirdo who desperately wants a man. How is this possible?

The real context for this story begins on May the 31st. I had just finished my exams, I was out in one of the worst clubs/ bars known to man (but it was the only one open on a Thursday) and I had been fed multiple shots by all of my friends. Enter male 1, let’s call him Harry. You know those people that you recognise but you’ve never met, in a University town, that feeling of ‘I kinda know you’ is multiplied by 109. Immediately I met Harry, we got on like a house on fire. His sarcastic dry humour matched my sarcasm perfectly. A multitude of drinks later, we end up at his. At which point I tell him that I won’t sleep with him because I’ve never had sex. To which he unsurprisingly reacts to with shock. After 2 years of university I’m pretty used to this reaction but I won’t lie to you, lying in bed with him was one of the hardest things. Having the self-control to not have sex is hard enough, but with a guy who seems to get you, it’s a million times harder. But it was made easier by the fact that he told me he wanted to stay single until 25 (this fact is important for later in the story) I’m not going to lie to you, staying a virgin is probably the biggest challenge I’ve had in life. But I don’t exactly help myself 😪.

Fast forward to the next morning when his crazy lesbian flatmate bursts in at around 7am. Now I only mention that she’s a lesbian or potentially bi-sexual because she was so clearly in love with Harry. I thought she was a lesbian but we girls can recognise all the signs. There’s nothing like a girl who’s so clearly trying to mark her territory. Leaving feeling thoroughly freaked out at how comfortable she was chilling in Harry’s room while we were in his bed, I shook off the night before and arrived home in a borrowed t-shirt.

But of course, this being me, I wasn’t done embarrassing myself. Ahhhh the drunk message. The bane of my existence. After bumping into Harry and his crazy flatmate on another night out, let’s call her Christine. I then proceeded to message him. (She had marked her territory again and I wasn’t here for her bullshit). Long story short, after a series of replies that took WAY too long to arrive, I realised that I was wasting my time and this guy was not interested.