Source: BECKY’S DAIRIES: THE CROSS ROAD
Source: BECKY’S DAIRIES: THE CROSS ROAD
Source: BECKY’S DAIRIES: THE CROSS ROAD
Many people pretend to know what we are going through, but in actual fact, they have no idea. They are either insulting you in their minds or pretending to be listening to your story. Well, thank God I have you to listen to me.
Years ago, I was a student in my first cycle institution, close to leaving the Junior High School, Final Examination was close. Everybody is seriously preparing for the big ambitions of attending the very popular schools that everyone wished for. There was nothing to care about. Life was full of all the fun you can think of.
I happen to be the only hope of my parents after my senior siblings arrogantly and stubbornly got themselves pregnant in Senior High School.
My parents were happy their teenage girl was leaving Junior High School for Senior High School. The promises to be fulfilled if I get my first choice were enormous. All eyes on me. I was the only chance of my parents getting a university graduate as a daughter. They really cared. “You need to learn”, “make us proud” were my rising and sleeping bells. My parents repeated it as though they were the only words left in the world. Unknown to them, I have my own idea of what I wanted to turn out.
My dreams were not in the classroom. I was one of the best Mathematics students in my school; however, I wasn’t ready to spend decades in school to become successful. To my parents, make good grades, graduate with a good class from the university, get a good job and if you are a woman, get married. But I wanted otherwise. I wanted to be popular, famous and rich.
For all my ideas of fame and popularity, I had no plan to how I wanted to achieve that. I just knew it. But how will I tell Mum and Dad? How will I tell my educationists of parents of this idea that is far from anything they believe in?
I did not want to disappoint them too. I wanted them to be happy, but not in the way they wanted it. I had to find the balance between pleasing my parents and making myself happy; being an actress.
If my memory serves me right, the first time I mentioned an actress as my role model, my dad was so infuriated. I could see the disappointment right in his eyes.
In Senior High School, I joined the drama club to learn my passion and what I believe was my talent. I casted numerous plays from Juliet in the popular Shakespearean tragic romantic drama, “Romeo and Juliet” to playing Queen Ojuola, Odewale’s wife and Mother in Ola Rotimi’s “The God’s are Not to blame,” and many more.
Few months after I have left Senior High School, I met this middle-aged man who could not find words to describe my talent on stage. He made me feel proud and noticed. He saw something in me and made me feel I was twice better than the greatest actresses. Finally, I found someone who sees me even better than I, myself. The best part was that he was a renowned movie director.
He assisted me in numerous ways. And as I write, he has landed me a big contract to cast in an upcoming movie.
As a High school leaver, this is one of biggest opportunities for me to become the star I have always dreamt of; taking the talent from the stage to the screens. However, I cannot make any decision because, I have parents who are yet to come to terms with acting as a profession and very much despise the idea of female actresses. To them, acting makes females promiscuous and puts them in a position of none privacy.
They believe in education and not some profession you can get in trouble with. To them, the popularity, fame, acting, nudity and the likes puts you out there to the world and makes you vulnerable to men. The whole world knows your privacy, dictates to you how to live your life. From their understanding, acting is indecent and it’s enough that their other daughters have shamed them, no need for the third to do same and even worse.
I am at a cross road, confused at what road to take. Your advice can help a young girl make a decision for the future. What do I do?
Love comes in various forms. Sometimes, it comes when you are not ready, and leaves when you need it most. But that is for those who really enjoy their relationships. That is why in most cases, it ends with sad moments. This one is a mixed reaction story with a very rare ending, one that not most of you will relate to.
I meet this guy, head over heels, saying to myself, this could probably be the genesis of a new chapter of no blue mood. In combat with myself, I couldn’t accept it just yet; something so sweet and true. As skeptical as I am, that’s too good to be true. I have been hurt a thousand times that the opening of a new chapter seems to be another played by life’s tricks. I’m alert.
After some persistent expression of his feeling and professes of love, I finally gave in. Right in front of me, the guy of my dreams, the one who fits everywhere in my long list. The only problem was, I am older than him. ‘How old are you?’ ‘I am 20’ he says, and I am 22. He is young, something I have been against in relationship setting. ‘Age is just a number’, that’s what everyone says. But that ‘number’ causes a lot more than just problems, sometimes break-ups.
I found a love for me, which can’t be reached now.
Aside his age, he was a friend of a friend who loved me so much and has expressed in so many words but I don’t feel the same way and made things clear to him. I can’t come in between two friends. I thought I was doing the right thing but then realized that I could give myself a chance at happiness at least.
I have a fragile heart so am pretty much hard on guys, but this time, it was different. My usual posture of shielding myself from getting hurt was overshadowed by the unimaginable chemistry that existed at the time. I felt it so strong. I couldn’t call it love then, yet I knew I was drowned in it. ‘I think about you all the time,’ ‘I can’t live without you’ and so many other clichés of lovers meant nothing to me till I met you. I foolishly and shyly smile thinking about you.
I defied all the wrong reasons and decided to be with you. Being pessimistic was one of things I wanted to avoid. I gave myself all the right reasons and even turned the wrongs to right because, I wanted to embrace happiness. Sadly, I was hit. Hit so hard that rising up became banter between me and myself. He was a liar and a cheat. He had a girlfriend all this while.
Surprised? Well if you are not, then you must be more experienced than I am. The pain and hurt, I couldn’t take.
‘You are never cheating until you are caught’, those were your words some time past. Realized now that it wasn’t one of your jokes; you meant those words and had no hesitation in pouring them out. Now I ask myself if you ever will regret what you did. Many signs prove you never will.
How could you give both girls so much attention? Well I don’t know if you gave your girlfriend much attention but for me, I couldn’t ask for more. You must be really good at this game.
This heartbreak is close to the hardest I have had.
When I subsequently probed if you had a girlfriend and you answered me sincerely, ‘yes’ and I liked that you didn’t lie. Your next step, I expected to be why you never told me, instead you were vehemently enquiring how I knew. Couldn’t you be selfless at least? The fact that someone’s feelings and hurt was on the line, wasn’t close to anything you cared about?
After ignoring his attempt to find out how I knew, his next words were ‘Silence is good too, but break it by telling me who told you, else expect nothing comparable to a reply from me’.
Really? How heartless could you be? ‘I’m out’.
You were sweet, loving, kind, intelligent, super funny and a great storyteller but dominating, honey.
Guess I was foolish and blind. Love really blinds its victims until the unexpected moment. You got me thinking real hard boy! This is harder than I imagined heartbreak would be. I have no justification to get mad, maybe if I had listened to my other self, I would have avoided this pain.
Getting over the pain hasn’t been easy, I have tried everything including mocking myself in front of the mirror as a way of putting that light back in me but guess what… I cried harder than ever. Everyday got sadder. I’m such a waste!
I don’t need an apology from you because I’ve already forgiven you. What I need is obliviousness to forget all the things that make me feel stupid. But there is nothing like that, is there? What I can do is express myself through words. We are now the closest strangers in the world.
You gave me something, and I have no idea what to call it. But it was the best lesson I have learnt as a growing woman. Our texts are now breakfast to me. I would read them over and over; you always knew the right thing to say. I will always remember you because you are too perfect to forget. And though I am hurt it’s okay because I met you; I couldn’t be more grateful for the lessons. I have realized that I went into you deeper than I thought.
The memories are well-heeled.
I should have never trusted my instincts. Telling myself that life is ordinary and that every problem has an expiry date, might have been the dumbest thought I had. There is laughter, lots of them after the tears. I always tried to find consolation in these words, since I had no other option.
I was young, 12, believing my own words. How dumb I was.
‘I hate bad girls! You’re a thief!’ Those were the words that got me sobbing for hours in the secret of my room because I wasn’t trusted.
Those words came from an aunt who believed I stole from a shop. But one thing everybody refused to believe was my story, I was framed. But who will believe a young girl’s words against those of a young man in his late 20s? Who would believe I was framed? I blame no one though.
I never could question why she would believe the story of the young man and not mine. I stayed with you for close to a year, yet you chose to believe the story of a man who you have known for just a month. Though you were not family, I loved you as an aunt. You broke my heart.
At that young age, that was one of the many problems I faced. I was broken and shuttered. Enduring the unbearable pain of such undeserved maltreatment is one experience I pray that no child encounters. It was an experience that will best be understood to behold rather than being told. It was a suicidal situation, because all in one hit me so hard at the exact spot in my heart, I felt it. I could see it; how drained I was in sorrow. Someone has a long life dream and gets it; I don’t get why I have to be different.
So, when then will the silver line be drawn? When then will I crossover to the other side?
That was the genesis of my crushed delirium of life. More of those words hit me hard for two years including many others. I was drenched, psychologically unsound, academically incapable, socialization failure and health disturbed. The irony here was that, I act strong in front of my family making them think I am fine, but am a lie. Nothing was fine.
Wondering where my parents were? Well, I wasn’t living with them at the time, and that practically made things worse. There were no warm arms to run to. Crying, sobbing and lamentations became the norm of my daily routine. I lived each day believing that one day, happier scene of life will be played to me. I always went to bed with the hope of a better tomorrow, which will be filled with naive smiles of a child.
When I finally found way back to mum, it all changed. The reverse became my situation. I was fine. After every suffering comes smiles; at least that’s what I have learnt from my journey to adulthood. It is true. True!
BY: REBECCA FRANS
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