Love: The Only Religion

It’s no secret that I’ve always been slightly agnostic about religion. I don’t subscribe to indoctrination. I don’t feel inclined to perform rituals based on antiquated beliefs and I don’t actually indulge in conversations with people about religion because it becomes so highly contentious. Also, I have little respect for hypocrisy and the people who advocate what is “right” and “wrong” but who choose to behave in unkind ways with ingrained judgment, hatred towards others, and prejudice.

More than that, I have no respect at all for people who use religion as a basis for harming others. So, for all these reasons, I’ve chosen to use the foundations of love, peace, kindness and compassion as my way of being, while having a reverence for a higher power that is evidenced around everything that I hold sacred.

Notwithstanding my sentiments above, I’ve had very profound experiences in my life, two of which stand out in my memory, where I’ve connected with something supremely powerful.

The first experience happened years ago, when I saw the face of Jesus in a dream. He said nothing to me, but just appeared and disappeared. It was the face that we’ve been taught to believe is the impression of Christ – white male, long beard etc. I was too young to fully understand it, but I woke up weeping from the recognition of something and an overwhelming feeling of love.

The second experience happened the other night, again in a dream.

I know very little about Hinduism, barring what deities I grew up hearing about. I never practiced any ritual and never performed any kind of service. Which is why, the dream I had was so confusing.

In my dream, I was driving down a road at night, in my hometown. In the middle of the road, was a frame with a photo of “someone” I couldn’t fathom, with “something” protruding out of the frame that I couldn’t comprehend, but which looked like an object of sorts. In my dream, I drove around the road again, and when I came back to re-look at the frame, a crowd had gathered and people were enclosing the frame with flowers and candles. I didn’t understand any of it, but felt a “pull” that this phenomenon was exclusively for me. When I woke up, the name “Durga” was playing in my head. A name I’ve never heard before.

I asked friends who are knowledgeable on the subject, about the meaning of this, and also tried to describe the weird feeling I had. It seems my dream was an auspicious one, an invitation of sorts to honour the divine Goddess in me, in whatever way I feel comfortable. Because, I was surprised to hear, Durga is a Hindu deity, a warrior Goddess, combating evil that threatens peace.

Peace.

Sidebar: For my Soar family reading this, you would know why that would give me the tingles.

There are lots of things to take away from this, but the one lesson I want to speak about here, is this illusion we’ve created as humans, that there is only ONE way in which to know God/the Divine/Source /the Universe (however you define the higher power you believe in). This is what sparks hatred and divisiveness – the belief that each religion is separate from the other and that we are all different. Religious fascists make it their mission to force others to accept and adopt their particular way of being, denouncing all other beliefs. This kind of behaviour is what continues to spur the divide we face as a collective species.

My personal experiences left me with an all-encompassing KNOWING of a divine spark that exists within and around me. This is an experiential knowing, based on the truth of my experience, and NOT on information fed to me. It is the feeling of oneness, a thread that forms part of the tapestry of all of us, without any distinction.

I’ve had similar feelings when my kids were born. I feel it when I listen to music that moves my heart. I feel it when I am lying next to the man I love. It surrounds me when I am among my Soar family. Divinity is omniscient. It is in everything, everywhere.

Those who perpetuate a separation with stories of “our God” versus “your God”, do so from a place of fear. Love is the higher law. It’s the foundation upon which all religions are formed. If you’re not operating from that point, you have no relationship with God, and in essence, no relationship with yourself. I am discovering that the deeper I get to know myself, the more I feel the divine.

Honouring The Divine Masculine

There’s an unspoken truth we’ve turned a blind eye to. Which I’m not prepared to remain quiet about any longer. I’ve personally witnessed the destruction this lie has amassed and I’ve seen many spirits break as a result.

The lie I refer to is the way in which we’ve been taught to regard men and the standard in which we’ve upheld them. By “we” I mean society at large. I am not a feminist or fascist in any way or form. My advocacy has always been about truth, authenticity and conscious living. My personal belief is that men and women form part of the same energetic frequency with both masculine and feminine energies. But we’ve been taught to differentiate and prescribe certain roles and responsibilities on to men, exacerbated by antiquated stories of men saving damsels in distress.

We’ve all bought into the bullshit, and hyped it further with sayings like “cowboys don’t cry”. We’ve placed the responsibility of providing financially squarely on the shoulders of men. We defined success for them as a way to measure up. We’ve defined the meaning of a “real man” according to a carefully crafted script. We’ve negated their emotional wellbeing and suppressed their innate ability to nurture or comfort because it wasn’t the “manly” thing to do. We’ve given them the responsibility of taking care of our emotional wellbeing and blamed them for our unhappiness. We’ve used religion or posterity, loyalty and obligation as control mechanisms to get them to conform. We’ve scoffed at their desire to be vulnerable because boys don’t cry. And “real men” don’t behave like sissies. And what we’ve done is create very angry and very sad men who feel isolated, scared and depressed. But they’d rather kill themselves than ever admit their truth. And so they do. The recent spate of suicides by men bears testament.

So what are we doing here and why are we doing it?

The simple answer is conditioning.

As an Indian woman I’ve seen many men aspire to become the vision that was set out for them by their parents. Often this vision had absolutely nothing to do with who they truly were, but they executed that vision to satisfy their parents. They negated their truths out of duty and obligation. I’ve also been a witness to men who wanted to express their pain and yet had to suppress it, which suppression translates into anger.

It’s time we create a new context. There is no men versus women here. It’s men AND women working together towards a collective consciousness. That is the only time we can move forward as a species. These gender specific roles are an illusion. We are all exactly the same. Honouring the divine masculine means honouring parts of ourselves as women. As a collective. There’s no differentiation. There are NO templates to follow that govern how men ought to be.

Beloved masculine, today I invite you to hold a mirror up and take a stark look at yourself. Begin to embrace the real truth and not the bullshit you’ve been fed about how you’re supposed to be. Recognise the courage it takes to be vulnerable and break down those barriers to love. Speak and own your truth. Know that your power is inherent and doesn’t need to be wielded forcefully. Understand that you don’t need to win approval from anyone. Understand that love is not conditional upon what you can provide or who you need to impress. Understand that you have the power to create your own reality. Own the fact that you CAN choose yourself and your happiness. Most importantly, break down the stereotypes and free yourself. It’s okay to exhale.

I honour the divine in You, as part of Me.

The Tenacity of the Human Spirit

A couple of months ago, a very special friend of mine got diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis – a potentially disabling disease that affects the brain and spinal cord. My friend is in her late 20’s and was relatively well until this diagnosis. When I heard about it, my immediate and instinctive reaction was grief and sorrow for what the future now holds for her. I am ashamed at myself for having that reaction. Even more so after seeing her a couple of times this week. She’s vibrant, energetic, enthusiastic and accepting of her diagnosis with more strength and positivity than I gave her credit for, even through her changing physicality.

Similarly, another very special friend was diagnosed at the age of 17 with Limb Girdle Muscular Dystrophy – a weakness and wasting away of limb muscles. She’s in her early 30’s and led an active life until the point of diagnosis. A few weeks ago she was bungee jumping off a dizzying height, followed in tandem by the experience of sampling Mopane Worms – a LARGE, edible caterpillar. My idea of adventure is a lovely, DRIVEN experience through a scenic countryside. So when I questioned my friend’s sanity, her emphatic response was that life is meant to be lived.

I believe in the adage that, when the student is ready, the teacher appears. And in these two beautiful humans, I was taught invaluable life lessons. I am no stranger to crisis and I often wax lyrical about finding the gifts in them, yet my conditioned response to these two women, was to engage them with sympathy. What a small mind-set to have, and what a stunning lesson to have learnt. I’ve watched in awe, the way in which these two women have dealt with their respective diseases and how they both now choose to live their lives – fully and completely present in the now. Each moment for them counts, each day of good health is one to be celebrated in gratitude. Life for them is about creating memories and cherishing the good times. How fortunate am I to have such amazing teachers in my life!

We cognitively know that life is precious and a moment of impact can change it forever. But, we actually take for granted the enormity of what this actually means. Don’t wait for something cataclysmic to happen before making a change.  Don’t waste time waiting for the perfect moment to say something to someone, or to do something, or to take the leap toward the life of your dreams. Everything can change in an instant and there is absolutely no guarantee that tomorrow will come. There is also no meritocratic system in this world, bad shit happens to good people. But, through the bad shit, there is always a lesson. And you need to pay attention to what the universe is trying to tell you.

Maybe you’re cruising and not doing what you’re meant to be doing. Maybe you’re lazy as fuck and letting life pass you by. Maybe you’re so focused on negativity that you just create more and more of it, and don’t see any possibility. Maybe you’re a perpetual victim so the world simply hands your ass to you, time and again. Whatever it is, your current life situation is telling you something. How you FEEL is telling you something. And the time is NOW to make that change, if you want to, towards a more fulfilling life…or, remain the same, and live with regrets later on. The choice is yours, so are the consequences.

The lesson for me, was a reminder of the tenacity of the human spirit and its ability to transcend anything. More than that, is the wake-up call I needed to step up, and be more fierce, more courageous, more compelling with my truth…just more. I made a promise to myself four years ago that I would never play small and these two women served as a reminder to myself, of that commitment.

 

Who Are You…Before The World Taught You Who To Be?

There is a fundamental need that we possess, which we aren’t talking about. It’s the need to tell the truth. Our individual truth. The voice we try to suppress and drown out.

This past week, two celebrities committed suicide within days of each other, shocking their friends and families, all of whom assumed that these people were happy. When you’re living a life of pretence, you become the greatest actor. Life imitates art.

In this era of social media dominance, we are consumed with comparing our “behind the scenes” to someone else’s “highlight reel”.  We have lost perspective and forget that people are putting forward the very best versions of themselves, which can often be nothing more than a facade. We spend so much of time pretending to have perfect lives externally, when the internal reality paints a very different picture.

The desire to fit in is so consuming that people are choosing to end their lives, literally, because of the suppression of their truths. We fake the smiles and happiness. We post stuff on Instagram and Facebook pretending to try and bridge the gap between who we are, and how we want other people to perceive us. We’ve become masters at meeting other peoples’ expectations.

All of this pretending is nothing more than lying. Lying to please others. And it’s making us sick physically and emotionally. We’re a society that is anxious, depressed, addicted and suffering. We’ve become so obsessed with fitting into a societal norm that teaches us to do more, to have more, to want more…and all it seems to be doing is making us more and more miserable.

So, who are you, before the world taught you who to be? Do you even know what that looks like? What freedom tastes like? What happiness feels like?

Prior to my failed suicide attempt four years ago, I was never able to answer these questions. All I wanted to do was fit in, be accepted and not judged. I moulded myself into the woman everyone else wanted me to be. I never listened to my own internal voice and truth and I negated my desires and dreams until I was prepared to end my life for it. Surviving my suicide attempt was the wake-up call I needed. I promised myself then, that I would never ever sacrifice my life in the pursuit of making others happy, or conforming to some stupid prescribed way of being that never encompassed my personal truth. I wanted to figure out who I am for myself, and what I was here to bring. And I got the answer. I discovered my voice and purpose and I was never silenced again. That is true authentic power. Had I fulfilled that intention to kill myself, this world would be robbed of my voice, my words and the gifts that I am here to bring; teaching others about hope and redemption. I will never again give anyone the power to dictate how I should be, how I should live or who I should love.

When you step into the light of who you truly are, you find real freedom and happiness that is authentic which can never be taken away. When will you understand how precious life is? When you’re on your deathbed riddled with regrets? Think about it.

Make today the day. Start now. Choose you.

 

Banishing Silence: Stepping Into Truth

At the age of 19, I was raped.

For 17 years, I kept it a secret, only telling a select few, until last year when I decided to write about it in my autobiography. The details of the incident are discussed in my book, but to me are inconsequential. The bigger issue for me is why I remained silent. Why women continue to remain silent.

Over the years, I’ve experienced sexual harassment verbally, physically and digitally and only recently elected to openly discuss these issues. Why? Because, for years, I was filled with shame, guilt, embarrassment, fear of judgment and ridicule and more importantly, the belief that I would be considered “less than” by any man who wanted to be with me.

It’s a generational pathology to simply do what was always done. And for decades women have been taught to smile and be silent out of fear of judgment and shame. We live in a society that teaches women to shrink, and to be ashamed of telling the truth. But for me, the moment anyone invalidates someone else’s truth, they dehumanise them. I had to learn, that when people start the rumours, when they judge, when they re-tell my story disparagingly, when they mock or ridicule or try to shame me, it’s never ever about me.

Writing has become my solitary place where I’m paying the most attention. It’s a place where my heart is wide open and I am the purest version of myself. It’s also where I am told to be silent, because truth is very inconvenient. I’ve always known that my silence never served me, and since beginning this journey of  truth telling, I accepted my life is the amalgam of brutal and beautiful and I needed to own that, unapologetically, if I was to make any difference in this world.

As women, we are taught that certain things are “unbecoming of a girl” and when we cross the line, there is a hefty price to pay. We weren’t allowed to speak about contentious issues like rape, abuse or sexual harassment, and we couldn’t be smart and draw attention to our intellect.

But silence either makes us too tender or too tough. This metastasizes into either ass-kissing and people pleasing, or conversely, aggression and anger. We become as sick as our secrets.

Fear of judgment, shame and guilt, is a nefarious act that holds us captive from speaking out. This tyranny of impoverished thinking has kept us prisoners in our own minds. We don’t speak out, because we want to be “normal” and accepted but we end up with the truth seeping out sideways through depression or addiction. We need to open our mouths more often to let the truth exist outside rather than allowing our bodies, minds and souls to rot by keeping it inside.

Offering my experience to the world was a form of truth-telling in a way that changed the trajectory of my life. My silence gave other people the power to decide my worth and plan my life for me. When you’re living in the echo chamber of your own mind, you cannot have discernment. When I chose to speak my truth, I did so for posterity’s sake, to change belief systems and give my daughter and the generations to come permission to do the same. No one will determine my story, only I will. My voice will change the world. If it makes you uncomfortable then it’s working. Truth sounds a lot like hate, for those who hate the truth.

In an era that promotes universal facades and pretence, telling the truth starts a revolution.

Insurgent women, it’s time to rise up. Be less concerned with judgment and more concerned with redemption. The time is up for remaining silent.

A Letter To All Parents

When I became a mother 16 years ago, by my own admission, I fucked up a lot. Like most people, I subscribed to deep-rooted cultural beliefs that defined how I parented which closely resembled what I had seen and experienced growing up. In the Indian community especially, there is a prescribed way of parenting and that involves control and enforced discipline, unquestioning uniformity with religious beliefs and an unhealthy affliction toward academic excellence and career aspirations that fit into parents’ unequivocal instruction.

Thankfully, I woke up four years ago, and managed to change my belief system before it caused serious damage to both my children. It is very easy to fall into the trap of becoming puppets to a cultured way of thinking that decides for us what being “good” or “bad” means. We have unconsciously bought into this parity to the detriment of our children. I was lucky enough to start questioning whether I wanted to conform to this ideology of what was taught to me and began empowering myself as a parent. Culture has taught us that disciplining our children is what is required in order to turn them from “bad” kids to “good” kids. Culture has taught us that we need to control our children and that they need to be busy every day. But do we really understand that the culture we’ve bought into only exists in our mind? We’ve created this mandate that if our kids are “bad” we have the right to punish. We have the right to push them to succeed and constantly achieve. We have the right to threaten them and constantly compare them to others or compete with others. Do we understand that this methodology means placing our kids at the bottom, and us, as parents, on top?

I am here to tell you that this way of thinking is the reason that suicide levels amongst the youth are so high.

I am here to tell you that this is why depression amongst pre-teens turns into drug and alcohol abuse later.

I am here to tell you that this is how stress, anxiety and fear take over the joy and aliveness our children are born with.

I am here to tell you that this begins and ends with you, parents.

I have chosen to separate from culture and not give a fuck about who will judge me. I’ve chosen to allow my kids to figure out what is uniquely their own talent and not what I want for them. I want them to discover their own spirit and essence. This is my role as a mother. To take their soul into wholeness and not disintegrate it, as some parents do. This can only be done if you separate from the indoctrinations that govern your parenting style.

If you really love your children, and want to do better, it’s time to think about the way you parent and the destruction that is caused by your behaviour. We do not own our children. We do not live vicariously through them. Our children are here to teach us. We need to pay attention.

 

 

Being Still: An End To 2017

For the first time in many years, I will be spending this Christmas and New Year all alone, without my family, friends or kids; purely by choice. It may seem like an odd concept for those who fall prey to the hype of what society has conditioned us to believe December ought to be – a time of partying, holidays, celebration, festivities and frivolity. And yes, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t buy into the hype too at one point, but for me, this year has been a shift, an ‘unbecoming’ of sorts. So, in that vein, I wanted to end the year differently; alone.

I have done no shopping for Christmas, bought no presents, and have minimised my life for the next few weeks in order to find out what is real and true for me. And the only way to do that is to get really still. It’s an emotional clearing that only solitude can bring. It’s so easy to lose ourselves in this world that teaches us to keep moving and never stop. This is how ‘dis-ease’ creeps in, where we make ourselves sick and miserable believing we are missing out if we don’t join the race. Yet oftentimes, we are like hamsters on a wheel, never making progress toward anything meaningful, trying to strive for a dream that may not even be ours.

I want to find the rapture of living that makes my heart leap, without the pomp and fancy. This is where true transformation takes place, where only my heart speaks and the imperious voices in my head become still. In silence, there is certainty and it introduces you to the secrets of yourself. Water derives lucidity from stillness, imagine how much more profound it can be with the human mind. I want my life to be a reflection of my heart, and that involves a spiritual stillness that takes root in my soul.

Everything gets created through an idea and a thought, and those moments of creative spark can only come through from the nothingness of silence.

So while I am trying to find this expansive spaciousness, I wish you and yours a happy and prosperous 2018. And if, like me, you’re alone this festive season – by choice or circumstance – I wish for you, the gift of clarity and beauty that may be found in the ordinary things. Where we can savour whatever we have, wherever we find ourselves.

I will see you on the other side.

With much love, aliveness and peace xoxo

 

 

A Return to Love

The dominant theme of my life for this year was Love. Love within and without.

It began in February when my soul merged with another. To use the word merge is mild in itself. It was a combustion; a fire so powerful that I couldn’t come out unscathed. It was the stuff dreams were made of, except this was so far ahead of my own dreams that I battled to keep up. I melted into him, his arms were home. He was my doorway to another world. It was the most intense spiritual connection that made me believe in all of the things I’ve only ever read about. For the first time in my life, I learnt the TRUE meaning of love and it made every other interaction pale in comparison.

Notwithstanding that connection, we were never in a relationship. We hardly saw each other. It was unorthodox and unconventional by societal standards, but it was real and true for me. It taught me about the value of truth, where I got to decide the truth about things for myself and not adopt someone else’s biased view. This love taught me patience, something I’ve always lacked. It taught me about the value of time and how precious one hour can be. It taught me about loving someone unconditionally, through their light and their darkness. It taught me about the expansiveness of my own heart. It taught me that “forgiveness” is love’s other name. It taught me that I am so much braver than I ever imagined myself to be. It taught me how to be more awake, more conscious, and more present as the universe gave us such big synchronicities that were more than simply romantic; it was the presence of a divine spark. It taught me about how love is a mirror. He made me face my deepest and darkest fears of insecurity and inadequacy. It taught me how to be my essence of peace and it revealed to me when I was deficient. This spiritual love changed my life forever and changed the very foundations of everything I’ve known to be true and real. It pushed the boundaries of convention and it made me a true believer of magic and divinity.

Through all this beauty, came the proverbial white elephant. And suddenly I had to face certain realities. It wasn’t about giving up; it was actually about REFUSING to give up on me. You see, sometimes a woman has to make a choice to say goodbye to what is even the best thing in her life, because it just doesn’t serve her.  The truth is often painfully clear and goodbye is necessary to remain in the light. It’s the difference between taking the short view, or the long view. There is a chasm wide gulf between co-dependence and love and my very role as a mother is teaching my kids what love truly looks like. And sometimes love is leaving what you think you need.

Each of us has inherent strengths. Mine is listening to my own truth and following the directions, even what that voice of truth sounds terrifying as fuck. My dream was to teach women that strength, women who woke up and found themselves in the middle of their own nightmare. I am here to teach women, through my truth, how to not sit inside that nightmare. That means I have to ACTUALLY live my truth. And my truth has always been about what works and doesn’t work for me and me alone.

I am showing up daily and working to remain strong and not give up even when the wind pries with stiff fingers to rip apart my very foundation. I try and bravely put one foot in front of the other in an effort to stay in the light, because it’s so easy to get back into the dark. The dark is a safe space for someone like me, it’s familiar and I can abdicate all responsibility. But I’ve worked too fucking hard to be that small. I have to do whatever it takes to stay in the light. This means saving myself and returning to love, in order to show others how it’s done.

I’ve believed that in order to find your life, you need to lose it. I have felt like I lost my life again. My hopes, dreams and wishes. But with it gone, I know my life is emerging. Exactly how it’s meant to. That is the way of the Phoenix, rising higher and higher each time, determined to save the only life I could save. Mine.

It is still a love story. Love always wins. It just comes in different shades. My wish for every one of you is that you get to experience this kind of love, even once, because it will teach you how to live. If the invitation comes, take it with arms wide open.

I am grateful for it and grateful for now returning back to me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On Judgment

I’ve been hearing recently about people who speak about the so-called ‘contradictory’ life I lead. Where I profess one thing, and presumably live another. I’ve also been hearing criticism around the way I look with statements like “I am ten times prettier than her”; or statements like “I am decent, she is twice divorced with two kids from two different fathers”. Now, anyone who truly knows me would know that I care a toss about commentary like these because I am aware enough to know that, living in the public eye, sharing my life in all its hideousness and glory makes me susceptible to judgment and criticism all the time. I have come to understand that most often; this judgment is passed by people who sit on the wayside of their lives, with self-righteous indignation, pointing fingers instead of taking a cold, hard look internally. (Sounds harsh but believe me, I am using artistic licence very minimally here).

But this is what bothered me slightly about these recent judgments: they were from women. I am not about bashing another woman. I don’t need to see another woman beaten down in order to feel better about myself. And I guess this is where awareness comes in. And this post is to that end, to try and create a level of awareness for why judgment should never be passed if you are someone who has little insight into who YOU truly are.

I’ve spent many years learning about who I am. I have spent years doing the very hard work to get to a level of understanding about why I’ve made certain decisions in my life. Being a woman isn’t binary. It’s not an easy feat. I’ve stumbled in the dark more times than I can count, breaking my heart and back in an effort to be everything this world required of me. For years, I tried to be the so-called epitome of a ‘decent Indian woman’ by society’s definition and forced myself to be in a marriage that didn’t serve the beat of my own heart. I smiled externally and remained silent, while my insides were screaming and my soul was dying. It took an enormous amount of courage, strength, tenacity and bravery to forge ahead and leave my second marriage because I knew I wanted and deserved more. The flaming spirit that is truly me was literally dying to emerge. And that was a good enough reason to leave. Facing death is sobering. It puts everything into perspective and that is why I have made it my mission in life to always and forever put my happiness first. Nothing else is more important than being happy and at peace.

I have paid my dues and earned the right to put my middle finger up high. I’ve worked myself to the bone to own the bad-ass that I’ve become. I never relied on anyone else to save me; I had to fight until my skin was bare to get to this point. Which is why I am extremely proud to own and embrace every facet of my past experiences: from the two divorces, to the failed relationships to having two kids with two different fathers. I have walked through fire to get to be who I am now and I am unapologetic about it. The reason I make reference to this here, is simply to reveal that not everyone knows my story, so why do people feel like they get a narrative regarding my choices?

Let’s cut to the chase here. This kind of judgment from women to women is a nascent act of violence done in the most sinister and divisive way. It keeps us from stepping into the power we own as women. It also unfairly places the blame on men for sexist behaviour, when women are actually the culprits. Why does speaking about the way I look matter when it’s far more important to focus on what I am looking AT?

It may appear contradictory, if my choices are scrutinised. But, being true means owning MY TRUTH. It doesn’t have to be accepted or approved by anyone else. If it’s true for me, if my intention is only about love and peace and not set to hurt another, then I am not a contradiction, I am still fully in my authentic power. This truth of mine may be terribly inconvenient for others but again, it’s only ever right for me.

Judgment is easy. It’s very easy to point fingers, apportion blame, use slandering words like “whore” or “slut” or “bitch” liberally. It’s easy to criticise a path you’ve not taken, or choices you’ve not made out of fear because then it is far simpler to remain a victim of circumstance. For those of us actually doing the work, we don’t need the judgment. You can turn that mirror inwards, you may not like what you see. 

Why The “You Complete Me” Mentality Is A Load Of Shit

LOVE is a disease, in and of itself, of which, I am the greatest sufferer. I hold it in reverence; and watch as it turns me from a rational woman, into a manic, fevered-face, high-pitched and deranged shadow of my former self. I am an over-the-top romantic and adore grand displays of affection and attention. A man saying “you complete me” would be met with a theatrical ‘slow-fainting’ display, complete with requisite ugly cry (yes, I’ve watched Jerry Maguire more times than I can count).

But, let’s be real. The stuff movies are made of, aren’t real life and the messages are often very dangerous. The inference that we need another to feel complete is the reason so many of us, women especially, keep yearning and searching for that big love and often times, never find it. Not with that mentality anyway. The universe taught me this lesson early on, but I chose to give it the “up yours” sign and instead became a chameleon in order to make the man happy:

Him: “What’s your favourite food?”

Me: “I don’t know…what’s YOUR favourite food?”

Him: “Probably sushi”

Me: “Oh My God! ME too!”

PS. I HATE sushi.

Enough said. I hang my head in shame.

The universe in Her infinite wisdom, made the lessons harder and harder, until finally, I was sick of my own shit and said, “fuck this, I need to be my own hero and complete myself”, which is the journey I’ve been on for the last 14 months.

So this is the problem with movies like Jerry Maguire; it’s all fun and games and dancing in the dark until we try and apply it to real life and the men run away. Fast. It sets the narrative for a love that isn’t real and cannot be sustained and leads to much disappointment.

I am indefatigable when it comes to love. I peel myself back, layer by layer, for the whole world to see. And I love being that way – gloriously lavish in the face of love.

But, the difference is, notwithstanding my expansive heart, I will never again be a man’s sinner, saint or scapegoat in the quest to make him complete me or vice versa. That is way too much of pressure on him and me. The completeness is an internal job. And it’s a deeply personal job, untainted by the pressures of what society thinks I should be. I will be doing the world an injustice if I choose to fade away and live in the shadows of what any man needs me to be, in order to love me. I will be negating my truth if I stay quiet about who I am. I will die a slow death if I succumb to any labels others place on me, as a result of their personal fight with their own significance. I cannot own any of that anymore. I speak loudly, I cannot be unseen. I leave a lasting impression.  I am unapologetic about it.

Being complete all by myself means that I can love without expectation, demand or fear. So when love came knocking at my door, magic was created because I am me, fully, and he is him, fully.

I am versed in a new lingo. It’s no longer, “you complete me” but rather “I see me, in you”. The point being, I see ME first. And that for me is the REAL love story here. It will never ever end.