African Woman, Amateur Love Doctor, Learning to Live a Balanced Life, Life Lessons, Love is..., Mental Health, Therapy Sessions

I will be the one…you miss

I recently re-connected with an old acquaintance who has been unhappily married for over 15 years. They have been to psychologists, relationship councilors,trips to Rome, Paris, New York. Trips to the sea side to resolve their differences.

They have even been to a divorce lawyer and then backed out of the divorce.

There has been abuse, both verbal and physical.

Still they hold on. Which I find admirable. And yet…

20180225_123421[1]I did ask my old friend: “isn’t it over? Shouldn’t you be over by now?”

She has spoken about this relationship for ever. When I wish we could speak about our dreams and plans for the future, she speaks about this doomed broken-glasspieces-on-floor relationship.

It drains the energy out of everything.

It kills the inspiration that could change the world.

And I said, unwisely:

When it ends – a job, a relationship, a friendship etc, there is a little madness, self-preservation, self-sabotage, megalomania and even recklessness when you say:

“I will be the one you miss. The one you don’t forget. When you are 70 years old, going through your life, and re-running through the decisions you have made, I will be the one you miss.”

There is also self-love, self-respect and a healthy core deep inside when you can say:

“You will look back at your life and ache for my laughter, my energy, my warmth, my coldness, my hysteric overreactions, my silences, my horrible singing voice, my dry hair all over the place, my tired red eyes.

One day, quite unexpectedly, you will long for Me.

But, it will be too late, when you find out what you have lost.”

It may not be true, but try it! When you find yourself in the wrong job, relationship, friendship etc try telling yourself that you deserve something good.

Something energizing.

Something supportive.

Something reliable.

Or whatever it is that makes you inspired to live a fulfilling life.

Because there must be something better out there for you! Don’t you think?

Maybe, that something out there is YOU

The light at the end of the tunnel is YOU!
African Woman, Learning to Live a Balanced Life, Life Lessons, Loves of a Life Time

Dream Men

Maasai Cricket warriors
Maasai Cricket Warriors by Francois Nel/Getty Images

When I see this picture of black men moving their bodies with ease and control; displaying this capacity Africans have to embrace new things and learning without prestige. learning them without abandoning what they already know. I remember my dream man.

As a young girl growing up in Kenya, I never had a dream wedding, just my dream man. He was black, like the men who brought me up – he was dignified, he was “the silent, strong type”. My father drunk too much, so my dream man did not drink. My father smoked and every hug left me feeling like I was hugging his shadow and the real man, my father was hidden behind the layers of cigarette smoke and alcohol. My future man would not smoke.

He would look like that man swinging the Cricket bat and I would adore him and he would adore me. Maybe, if he was kind, I would even *let* him have a mistress to massage his beautiful ego.

And then I moved to Sweden and my dream expanded in form and content. What a twisted rope life is!

African Woman, feminism, Life Lessons, Love is...

Love Is – A Messy Kitchen

That kitchen towel is wet! On the dining table.

Love is: Knowing that the kitchen will be a total, utter, mess when he is done cooking, and finding it in yourself, deep down, to relax and let it happen anyways. The meal will be delicious, so why the hell not? You have already fought, nagged, blackmailed and sulked one thousand and seventy eight times about this, so why bother?

I promise, every second meal, sometimes the simplest one, like tea with sandwiches, he will use all the kitchen apparatus, cutlery and utensils available.

thumbnailThe dishwasher will not save you when he is done.

Relax, Love is everything that happens while you Live.

The five dysfunctions of a team
On the wall behind the dish rack, you can see the above. I love Artificial Harmony!
African Woman, Art & Culture, Loves of a Life Time, Music

Manon Lescaut Seduced by the finer things – in Stockholm

She is pathetic, Manon is. Love me, she says and then she loves fine things more than she loves herself. Or is she a woman of her time? No capital of her own, beautiful, caught between all the men who can offer her one luxury or the other? For something she has – sensuality. She has spirit too. What a voice!

The choices are impossible. To choose love or comfort? To be surrounded by beautiful things or to live in a small apartment with a student? Ack! that we cannot have both. She sings & seduces Des Grieux, again:

“Doesn’t this seem a feast
of gold and colour? It’s all for you!”

I recognize myself in Manon. What, with my love for jewellery and discreet leather products. Discreet to hide the price, of course. My wanderlust that costs a fortune and my fetish for soft whispering fabrics. To explain just how bad the fetish is: the other day, I was on the commuter train, and this gentleman stood right in front of me. He had an autumn coat that looked so exclusive, fabric-wise, I stretched my sweaty, twitching right hand and touched the coat. Lightly. To feel the fabric. He turned around and looked at me with a smile; I smiled back like a gold digger who is suddenly thrown into a gold bank. He must have thought I was reaching out to him. I wasn’t. He wasn’t there. The coat was. I am the same way with colleagues and friends. My first thought when I see their beautiful clothes is “I want to touch that! I want to touch that… I want to touch that…”

This can become an issue if I don’t see someone shrink like person.

fetal positionIf my love said I should leave everything and come away with him, for love, I would probably be found in a fetal position hiding my lovelies under my skirts. Love or no love.

Back to Manon Lescaut. I cried & laughed through ACT 2 & ACT 3/4. All of it. How great is that? That has never happened to me before. Usually it is a small tear here and a small laugh there. Sometimes I close my eyes & listen to the fantastic music. This did not happen at the #StockholmRoyalOperaHouse. My eyes were open & my emotions were in the open through it all.

I am very glad for the years that have passes since Abbé Prévost wrote this wonderful, desperate, tragic story. Grateful that I belong to the generation which can earn a living, buy my own jewellery & live with a man without having to marry him. Or, what the heck! No one is plotting to take me to the cloister just because they can’t be bothered to marry me off! Ah, well, sending me to a Catholic Girl’s High School doesn’t count…or does it?

Did you know that Abbé Prévost worked on different editions of the book for over 20 years? A work of love, like the Mona Lisa. 1st edition published in 1731, final edition; toned down and all, published in 1753. Puccini‘ s adaption of #Manon Lescaut came over 100 years later, in 1893. It is passion in music for a story of a passionate death.


Art & Culture, Life Lessons, Loves of a Life Time, Travel Journals, Tuscany (ITALY) 2017

Tuscany 2017: The Pain of Finding The Beautiful Pincio Gardens

While in Rome, The city view from the Pincio gardens is worth lots of pain. Bear with me.

It is interesting how instinct works. Like love. Or hate. Or fear. You get these feels that you really don’t know where they are coming from and can absolutely not control. You consider ignoring the feels but the “inner compass” just won’t let you. If you try to ignore the feels, you start to get nervous, anxious, fidgety, itchy, neurotic, edgy and irritable. Best way to deal with this is to act on the feels and move on with it.

So, on the day we are to find the Pincio gardens, I wake up with lots of feels. Instinct tells me that a pimple is coming on. So I start the morning with touching my face. I touch the exact place where a huge zit is going to show up because instinct tells me there will be a zit on precisely this spot.

My partner in zit & acne control says that I get all these zits because I touch & scratch my face. It is a chicken-egg situation. I feel the zit coming, instinctively, I touch scratch, squeeze, peel violently, point my nail directly at it & push, use the pincette, apply aloe vera, apply sun cream, ooh too much sun screen, wipe with toner, apply more sun cream, the zit, it comes.

It can’t be any other way.

Does my touching my face cause the zit, or, does the zit cause an itch that I have to deal with before the zit pops up?

Anyways, whatever I do, by breakfast (09:00 am), a spot on my face hurts.

Life goes on!

The hatI place my wonderful hat on my head and it lies right on the zit. It, the pimple itches and hurts all at once.

La vita va avanti!

I have to walk through Rome because my find the best city views partner has a garden he wants to show me. Pincio. We have with us the book Top 10 Rome, & in it is a map. I turn the map upside down, decide which way we have to go and start walking.

If you look at the Google maps navigator below, it should take 40 minutes, tops.

Walk to Pincio!We walked the whole afternoon. From 12:15 to 16:30.

The whole freaking hot afternoon (28 Celsius).

To be on the fair side, it is a wonderful walk in the sun through the best parts of the city. Brushing by the Colosseum, St. Peters Cathedral, Spanish Steps, the shopping district etc. When we find ourselves near the Trevi Fountain, we decide to come back to the Fountain later. I have been saving my 3 cents all week for the Trevi visit.

Because we will always be back to Rome.

We took a break on the way, took a coffee at a small café near the Flaminio tram stop. Just one stop from Flaminio Tram stop. After the coffee, my legs, feet, back & pimple hurt so bad I wanted to take the tram back.

My we are better than that partner said it couldn’t be that far to walk. I did not believe him so we had a short irritated conversation while we walked.

Me “I want to take the tram!

Him “No”

Me “I am tired”

Him “.”

Me: “You don’t hear me!?”

Him “. a look.”

Me “Are you listening???!”

Him “.”

Me: “Oh, there is the Flaminio stop.”  Just look at the map, a little north west of the destination.”

Him “. Smiles at me. touches my hand.

Embarrassed silence. We turn left or is it right?. Up the stairs, definitely up the stairs,  and there lies the famous garden in all its glory. A wonderful view of the city and statues of the historic famous in one place.

Flaminio to Pincio



African Woman, Fashion & Style?

Shopping Blues Caused by the Met Gala

The ways we torture ourselves are numerous.

Like when you buy that chocolate bar and place it on the dining table.staring at you. Mocking you. Calling your name while you sleep. Whispering how good it tastes.

“I will not eat the whole of that in one go!” You tell yourself before you go bananas bonkers on the chocolate bar in the middle of the night when no one is watching..

Or when you watch the angels, feel guilty because you are a feminist jaa, I am totally projecting! and swear to stop objectifying women. Until next year because you are totally hooked.

So, I watched the Met gala and had all these awful wonderful exhilarating depressing feels.

Should I get a new pair of sandals? You know, like Rihanna’s?

Should I get a new gala dress? For that gala I am invited to in 2031 when I am rich & famous? As if that would ever happen to me who cannot save if life depended on it.

Should I or should I?

So I went shopping today. For whatever.

While I shopped, I wrote this in my phone: Shouldn’t shopping effing make me temporarily happy?

You were sad, deeply miserable, before I had a chance to hurt a fly,

You were angry, constantly pissed, before I had the ability to create anger,

You were rolling down the stairs, down the hill, bumping your poor head before my hands could push a barrow,

You were weeping, heartbreaking sobs, disturbing wails, before I broke any heart,

You were fragile, almost broken, before I put my hands out for a hug,

You were disconnected, totally broken, before my looking straight at you was a demand for attention, for action, for approval, for love,

You were sleepless, nagging insomnia, before I started nagging,

You were without friends, unloved, before I started looking for elsewhere love,

You were stressed off your wits, depressed, before I was more than fetus,

You were depressed, untreated & suicidal before I saw the first boy I liked,

How is it then possible, that I felt like I caused it all?

The blues.

The violence.

The anger.

The cold.

The heat.

The storms.

The loveless-mess.

The laughter.

The separations.

The abandonment.

The pain.

The love.

The laughter.

The tears.

The sleeping.

How is it then possible, that I felt like I caused it all?








African Woman, Amateur Love Doctor, feminism, Learning to Live a Balanced Life, Life Lessons

Do Feminists Need LOVE from Men?

I had been thinking.

Pulling my hair.

Gnashing my teeth.

Scratching my back.

Picking at the pimples on my face.

Scratching my scalp bloody.

Biting my nails.

Re-counting my years.

Checking the wrinkles that may or may not be showing up.

Checking my awaited grey hairs.

Learning new things.

Getting promoted.

Investing the savings.

Thinking. Choosing. Re-choosing.

What a luxury! To have choice. All these wonderful choices.

Some mornings, I woke up sad. Some nights, I slept close to tears.


I can afford the rent.

I can feed myself.

I can pay my ticket and hotel room in Paris.

I can buy my own shoes.

The thought hit me.

To choose; when you have everything else and the only thing left to choose is love; you have to choose the love you cannot live without.

The silent question: “how to choose?”

Pooh answered: “You cannot go through your feminist life looking back at the things you rejected and miss & regret when you are 50, 60, 70 years old.

If you cannot say the below to the rejected, the left behind, the discarded, the not-chosen, or to yourself, and really mean it; then you cannot reject. Anything. Anyone. Ever.

  1. I do not love you. I wish you well.
  2. I love someone else. I hope someone else will love you.
  3. I am not available for you. I am prioritizing someone else.
  4. You have to celebrate one more birthday without me. And many more in the future.
  5. Someone else’s feelings and happiness mean more to me than your feelings and happiness. I hope you will be happy anyway.
  6. I will not miss you.
  7. I will not miss your voice.
  8. I will not miss your wonderful face.
  9. I will not miss your smile.
  10. I will not miss your jokes.
  11. I will not miss your body.
  12. I will not miss your body odor. In fact, I will forget it.
  13. I will not your input when I need input.
  14. I will not miss your feedback when I need feedback.
  15. I will not miss taking a walk with you in the city.
  16. I will not miss your/our friends.
  17. I will not miss your family.
  18. I will not miss watching TV with you.
  19. I will not miss spooning with you in the mornings.
  20. When I think of love, when I dream of love, when I speak of love; I will not think of you.”