Category Archives: The Love Doctor

Happy New Year 2015 !!

Standard

Don’t you just love beginnings? The hope, the optimism, the fresh new pep in your step? That’s how I feel about the dawn of a new year. It’s a chance to start over, to get it right, to take a step in the right direction.

So, I’m raising my glass this first day of 2015 to everything new. New dreams, new successes, new achievements, and a new realization that the only limitations we have, are those we accept in our minds.

Happy New Year people!

Disclaimer 2 2 . 01 . 2015 : just found this lurking in my ‘draft’ folder and realize it didn’t get published. Oops! It’s still (barely) January though,  so here goes!

My ‘almost’ travel woes

Standard

I have a newfound respect for people who trawl embassies trying to emigrate.

I mean, I’m not even trying to emigrate, but these last few days I have received some of the most appalling treatment ever, from an embassy. I’ll do a full review AFTER I have gotten my passport ( and hopefully visa) back, lol. Gats to stay smart. 😎

So this is me at 1:27 am, trawling http://www.flightstats.com (shout out to you guys by the way,  your Android app is amazing!!) trying to find a flight, more like series of flights, that will permit me catch up to my plans for the rest of the week. I think I’ve found a route via 3 different airlines with acceptable arrival time at destination. (Bored with this yet? Hang on a little longer. There’s a point in here somewhere). Email sent off for ticket confirmation, and all I can do now is wait. So I get back into bed. And then the doubts start rolling in. Will my flight be on time? Will I miss the connections? What do I do if the flights get cancelled?

My biggest fear and the point I’m trying to make? The aviation industry in this part of the world is rubbish!!! Oh, we’ve got (minimal) coverage. What we cannot pretend to have is reliability. I’ve had flights cancelled without warning  flight times brought forward  (!!!!!!), postponed for a week, consistently late, etc. And of course, all this without any notification whatsoever.

So I’m here sweating blood,  shitting bricks and begging God to give me a break, otherwise my hair’s gonna start falling out from the stress. And this seemed like the perfect place to rant.

Lol, sorry.

PS : I’m getting good at typing long paragraphs on a purely touchscreen phone. Yay me!
PPS : any typos are down to the phone. Grammatical errors are all mine tho. Forgive me. I’m sleepy.

All this ‘Feminist’ Bulls***

Standard

I’m a feminist.

Weren’t expecting that when you read the title of this post, were you?

Yup, I’m a feminist. I’m a black, passionate, overweight young woman with nappy hair and a propensity for headwraps and African fabric.

I also love makeup, heels, romcoms, and a man who will take care of me (yes, those are my words).

War of the opposites, you might think? NO!

I don’t know how many times this needs to be said. I guess as long as there are clueless people out there, this will be a pet peeve of mine.

Feminism is not about men. It’s not about man-hating, man-bashing, man-annihilating, or any other anti-men propaganda.

Feminism is about choices and opportunities.

It’s about the choice to wear trousers or a skirt, about the choice to have children or not, about the choice to get married at 25 or 45. It’s about the opportunity to go to school, the opportunity to study industrial weldering, the opportunity to be a professional footballer, the opportunity to be CEO of a Fortune 500 company.

Dear men, I don’t want to be you. I know that you have it difficult in your own way. All I want to do is to be me, a me free from societal obligations, expectations and limitations – a me free to dream dreams unhampered by gender inequality – the best me I can be.

Is that seriously too much to ask?

I don’t want to be passed over for a promotion at work, because my boss is afraid next year when he needs me I’ll go on maternity leave. I don’t want to not be invited to the management office party, because the top brass need to bring their girlfriends/need to go to the strip club/don’t like fraternising with women. I don’t want to be afraid to build a house, as that will scare eligible young bachelors away/attract the gigolos/make a man feel like I don’t need him. I don’t want to have to worry about a 9-5 work day and then dinner for  a man who got off work at 3pm and has been since parked on the couch, scratching his b**** and waiting for me to come and cook.

I want to be respected for my intelligence, my hard work, my determination, my success. I want to be appreciated for the line of my neck and the curve of my hips, as well as for my passion and compassion. I want a man to choose to hold my door and chair, while accepting that I could do those things if I wanted. I

I am a feminist, but I am also a woman. Both do not have to be mutually exclusive.

 

New Year Resolutions

Standard

Happy holidays!

Transitioning is never easy. I feel like I have lost my passion for writing – it has fallen through the cracks thanks to all the other hectic-ness (is that even a word?) that is my life.

Know what it took to get me back here today? A close friend of mine lost her elder brother a couple of days ago. He was in his 30s, had so many dreams, so many reasons to live (not the least of which was a wife and two kids) but yet, he couldn’t stay. Thinking about all the stuff he wanted to do ‘when I get well’ got me thinking…what if I never get the chance to do all of the stuff I want to do?

I mean, it’s all good and nice to have all these plans and hopes and dreams – but what are you actually doing about them? Are they realistic? Where do you wanna go with them? Do you have a real plan?

So last night, while lying in my bed and praying for sleep, I decided to myself that I would actually make New Year resolutions for 2015, and STICK to them! The plan is to pick 5 important, realisable, measurable things (no ‘I want to be a better person’ ish) and then track my progress. So, by putting it out here I’m making myself accountable to all of you. If I don’t accomplish these, feel free to call me out on it! Here goes:

1. Go back to school, get an Accounting qualification of some sort (online courses count)
2. Lose 20kg minimum
3. Blog more often, go bungee-jumping and/or parasailing
4. Do something life-changing for a person in need and unrelated to me
5. Save 50% of my annual salary.

Sounds reasonable, right? I’m determined that these won’t go the way of other New Year resolutions ie, forgotten by mid-February.

So, how about you? got any New Year resolutions of your own? Express you in the box below!

Happy Holidays!

Be My Valentine

Standard

Everybody seems to be talking about the same old same old, this Valentine. It’s either ‘me and my significant other’ or ‘I’m loving myself this year’.

When will Valentine’s Day ever be about fighting for love?

It’s all good and fine to spout all that hogwash about waiting for the right guy and all, but some of y’all ladies out there KNOW that you already had him, and lost him. Nine-tenths of the time it was his fault (let’s be honest, men can be pretty clueless), but Miss Thang, you can’t deny that sometimes you were too demanding, a bit selfish, always busy, always jealous, always accusing…so he dumped you, and now you are alone.

This Valentine, let go of the self-love smokescreen (doesn’t it get old, btw?) and tell yourself the truth – you want him back. Instead of sitting around wallowing in a warm bath and a few tears, accept where you went wrong. Admit you want him back, then fight for his love.

‘Tis the season, let’s celebrate love, revel in love, fight for love. After all, how many spa deals can a girl buy in her life?

Happy Valentine’s Day, y’all.

Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.

Let’s talk about sex…

Standard

images (1)

It’s a right pain in the butt when your 60+year-old retired mother becomes a techno-guru, trawling the internet for fun…and stumbling upon all manner of things you would rather she didn’t see. eg. this post.

Well *Eminem voice* I said I’m sorry mama…

Unfortunately (is it though?) for me, I’m from a South-Western tribe in my country called the ‘Bayangi’. It’s the Nigerian equivalent of a Calabar girl. Or the equivalent of a ‘Latina’. For those of you who don’t get the significance, girls from my tribe are rumoured to be *cough cough* highly demanding and well-skilled in matters of the flesh. *hides face*

Cue in today’s topic – so I’m sitting at work, daydreaming thinking about relationships, how they morph from friendships into something more binding, what makes them fizzle out and what makes them remain strong against crazy odds, when a couple of things popped into my head.

(1) Recently I got into a dalliance with a very, sweet, charming and more or less successful guy – who lives in another country. Despite the fact that we enjoyed each other’s company and were both quite unattached, I found it difficult to commit. Then a friend said something which made me stop and think. She said *”Dis one wey you be bayangi, man no di even know sef. Sometime you di still draw skin because you and ei nova do“.

Basically “Given your tribe’s reputation, I bet your reluctance stems from the fact that y’all haven’t *cough cough* done the do.”

*side note – I’m coughing a lot in this post. My throat/keypad isn’t used to such topics*

At the time, I laughed about it and brushed it off, but today for whatever reason, it popped in my head, and I’m inclined to think about it a bit more and bounce it off you.

(2)Still recently, a friend told me about her boyfriend of over 2 years, who all of a sudden is no longer interested in bedmatics. His reason? He wants them to get married. Hold your applause. Tentative marriage date? In ‘About’ two years! Of course, I told her that he was getting it elsewhere – that reason just did not hold water, especially when combined wih his general cold behaviour.

As humans, we always have our little idiosyncrasies, particularly when it comes to love. Sometimes we won’t commit until we say ‘I love you’. Or until the other person says ‘I love you’, or until they presents us to their family/friends/work colleagues as their ‘girlfriend/boyfriend’.

Or until we knock boots with them.

Is sex in a relationship really that big a deal? Does sleeping with someone mark some sort of line that cannot be crossed? Does it take the relationship to another level? And does not sleeping with them (in case you started, and the decision to stop wasn’t mutual) signify a downgrading of the relationship, say from ‘serious’ to ‘open’?

Guy or girl, if you slept with someone you liked and were seeing casually, would you consider it some sort of commitment? And when things go sour, can sex hold it together until other issues are resolved?

Use the comment box below and express yourself! *don’t be shy now, you can do so anonymously!*

Standard

So I’m not a mother yet, but this is hilariously true…Two thumbs up for all hands-on mothers, career women or no, who bend over backwards to take care of their families!

*calling my mother*

Benir Vida

Yesterday I posted a short piece about how much I enjoy being friends with my spouse and the importance of finding the humor in a long term relationship.  So in the interest of balanced representation here, I think it’s only fair that tonight’s brief reflection be – how shall we say – a little less glowing of our counterparts.

Note to men, or masculine partners anywhere… Or for that matter, note to half of couple who is NOT the person at home with children most of the time.

When I say, “Oh my freaking [insert appropriate deity’s name to take in vain here], it has been the longest day and I am flipping exhausted because I never get a moment OFF to just be myself…” 

When I say that, that is your cue to tell me I am amazing and you deeply admire and respect my Herculean ability to balance…

View original post 479 more words