And What Do We Learn from The Artistry of Ms. Beyoncé Giselle Knowles-Carter?

Me rn.

I almost gave up this month.

Not I almost, actually, I did give up.

On my dreams, and a lot of my goals. I just stopped working towards them because life was too hard. So I distracted myself with just about anything, refused to feel, and told myself that I have made peace with not reaching the goals I have set for myself.

Now, if you are familiar with my lore, then you will know that I am obsessed with Beyoncé. Not obsessed as in crazy stalker fan-girling, but obsessed as much as Josephine Olubode can be.

It hasn’t always been this way, actually. For the greater part of the time I have been listening to music I didn’t really listen to her because well, I don’t know. Very few people around me listen to her. I mean I knew the basics – Halo, Single Ladies, even XO and Love on Top. But I wasn’t in awe of her and her artistry like I am now.

(I feel like I should write capital “HER” when referring to Queen Bey because she is indeed, Mother.)

I fell in love with Beyoncé sometime in August 2023, during the Renaissance World Tour. I remember laying in bed for hours one Sunday morning, watching TikToks of her performing songs from Act I over and over again, and realizing what had been missing from my life until then. I was in awe (still am), and mesmerized. If it is ever possible for me to practice idolatry, Beyoncé Giselle Knowles-Carter is a very viable candidate for Josephine’s idol worship.

Starting that day, I listened to every single one of her albums until I knew all her songs by heart. Then I listened to the singles and the collabs and everything ‘The Carters’ made. I even listened to a bit of Jay-Z, lol. I watched TikToks of her performances, even from when she was a part of Destiny’s Child. I went on YouTube and searched up everything I could find relating to Beyoncé and watched religiously. I even went on Google and Instagram, and I learnt Beyoncé lore. Every single thing I could consume, I gulped down like it was water and I’d been stuck in the desert for ages.

Today is May 29th, and Beyoncé just released “COWBOY CARTER”, ACT II of the Renaissance, her new album. It’s 1:50 AM, and I am yet to listen to it because my phone is charging, and I simply refuse to listen to it without my earphones. Also, I’m scared. It feels sacred, and I don’t know if I’m ready for it yet.

I know I am rambling, but I am making a point. So please, stay with me.

In the past, I have talked about Beyoncé’s music healing me. Every Sunday, while I wash clothes, I listen to the ‘Renaissance’ album on repeat. (I know all the songs on that album by heart by the way; “Heated” is my favorite.) My favorite album to listen to while I’m studying is the “Homecoming” album, I think because it’s so upbeat and it makes Veterinary Medicine bearable.

Truly, music is healing and nothing does it for me better than listening to Ms. Carter sing. So like I said yeah, I love Beyoncé. You could even call me a member of the Beyhive.

Now, back to the fact that March was hard, same old, same old. I am currently preparing for my second MB; and to say I am struggling with studying is an understatement. I hit a huge roadblock, and it seemed to not be budging, until like an hour ago.

Beyoncé dropped Cowboy Carter, and I had a light bulb moment. I was thinking about the album, and how she can drop hit songs in any genre and just generally admiring her artistry. That was when I realized a few things.

What Lessons Have I Learnt From Beyoncé’s Artistry?

💡. Keep going until you’re a f*cking legend. I’m serious. This woman has a career spanning at least 25 years, and she is still so relevant in the industry. It doesn’t get more legendary than that, I’m afraid.

💡. Practice, practice, practice. If there is one thing Beyoncé does, it is practicing. She constantly pushes herself to the limit. Working hard at everything until she’s satisfied and perfect. And if somebody with a legacy such as hers still performs even with a broken knee, who am I to give up on my dreams just because life is hard and I want my mommy? (Not that there’s anything wrong with wanting your mommy, of course)

💡. It is okay to re-invent yourself over and over and over again. You can do anything, and when I say anything, I mean it. Beyoncé dropped a culture-shifting House album last year, and today, she dropped a Country Album. I wasn’t a country girlie until I listened to “16 Carriages” and “Texas Hold Em” when she dropped them earlier in the year. I still am not, but best believe I’m donning my cowboy hat and boots because that’s what Mother said we’re doing.

💡. Anything she does, she does it excellently well. She started her “Cecred” haircare line, and it was perfect. She has been a music icon for as long as I can remember. And she’s not letting up. She keeps going.

There are so many other things to write about, because she really is That Girl, but whew this is getting long.

I think today, I have driven past my metaphorical roadblock. This doesn’t mean that it will automatically get easier to live my life or study for these exams, but I am now in a different headspace.

I don’t have an excuse for giving up, and neither do you by the way.
Your dreams are your dreams for a reason. Own them. Work towards them. You can be anything you want to be. You can do anything you want to do, I promise.

Until next month, please pray for me. I’m going to really need them.

 
Thank you for sticking around until now.

Love always,
Josephine. ♥️✨️

P.S: It’s 4:35 AM. I have listened to the album. And I’d just like to thank the Lord for Beyoncé.

If there is anything Ms. Carter knows how to do, it is put on a show. Currently picturing how heavenly it would feel to attend the world tour on my phone.

Album of the century. Sheesh.

February, 2024

In true Josephine fashion, I am here trying to write the blog post for February on the 28th day, at 10:03 PM. 

And I still have no idea what to write about. You know, the article for the blog is the only obligatory thing I have to write, so most months I don’t write a comprehensive article until it’s time for the blog.

Maybe I should write about how creatives procrastinate and leave things until the last minute to do them. You know why I’m not bothered right now? I still feel like in the next 24 hours I’ll get a burst of inspiration and what I’m supposed to write about will come to me.

Why do I procrastinate?

I don’t know, I’ll do it anyway and I’ll do it so well nobody will ever know I waited until the very last minute to do it. 

Now, I know that this is not such a good habit, so I think I’ll try to do something to change this habit, especially with regards to the blog posts. What I do for most of my other projects is create deadlines for myself that are very far from the actual date I need the project done. Like when you give your dress to a Nigerian tailor and you tell them you need it on the 10th when you actually need it on the 25th, because you know they’ll never get it done on time. 

I could try that for writing the blogs as from next month. Create a cute little reminder; write it on a sticky note and put it up on the wall in my room, and we’ll take it from there. 

Do I actually have anything to say to you? Not really.

I hope February was a fun month for you!

Don’t forget to drink a lot of water, and mind your business!!!

Love always, 

Josephine. 

I’m a Gemini, so I

Over the past month, I have watched a lot of astrology TikToks. It started with that trend “I’m a -, of course I do so and so.”

I’m a Gemini (June 3), so the algorithm brought me videos of people saying things like “I’m a Gemini, of course I’m going to put on the charm to get my way”, or “I’m a Gemini, of course I can adapt to any situation I’m in.”

As I watched these videos, more came up about random Gemini, air sign stuff, and you know, I thought it was fun so I kept watching them.

One of my favorites is “I’m a Gemini, of course I think I’m funny”. Because I swear to God I’m always cracking myself up. But also there is “I’m a Gemini, of course I like to be mad dramatic for no reason.”
To be fair I like all of them, I don’t have any favorites. Let’s just leave it at that.

So, over the past month, I have learnt that Gemini is the sign that people want to date the least. Gemini are manipulative; two-faced; changeable; easily bored; over thinkers; need variety to spice up their lives; can never make up their mind; liars; arrogant; like to play games; among other things.

Most of these things are accurate, and I even saved some of these videos because I thought they were funny with how well they described me. I think astrology is very science-y with how it makes predictions based on past observation and data gathered and stuff. So I can open TikTok and find people describing me because they have experienced people in the past born around the same time as me.

But anyway, one thing that stood out to me is the ‘I’m a Gemini, of course I have multiple personalities’ part. Okay it’s not one thing that stood out to me, a lot of things stood out to me. But that is what I want to write about in this article because it has been at the forefront of my mind for a while now.

The thing is, I don’t like to think of it as me having multiple personalities and changing who I am to fit into the situation I’m in. I like to think of it as me being a very complex and multifaceted person who likes to present the side of her to people that she thinks they will relate the most to, especially when she doesn’t feel close enough to them.

Basically, I’m like an onion. And there are more than a thousand layers. Perhaps only one person has managed to almost finish peeling all these layers in my almost 21 years of existence.

So, onion. When I first meet a person, I look at them, and I decide which side of me they would love the most, and that is the part that I present to them. If we get closer and I discover new things about them that I like, they get to peel more layers and see more parts.

But the problem is, I really love being on my own, and I never get to spend enough time with people to get close enough to them that they can peel more than a few layers. As a result of this, different people have different opinions/experiences of me.

Frankly, I don’t have a problem with this, but somebody pointed out to me last week that I never let people fully experience who I am, and nobody really knows me.

I say why should I? What if I show them all of myself and they can’t handle it? How do I collect my thing back? (Even I am discovering new things about myself every day)

They say I shouldn’t decide for people what part of me they can handle, but lol. Lol, I don’t know about that sha.

A lot of people have the general opinion, though – quiet, innocent looking, nerdy introvert. (She’s my favourite girl fr).

Okay.

So, this means that different people get to experience different parts of me, and it can lead to people thinking I’m pretending to be something I’m not.

I think I’m halfway through this article and I haven’t even made the point I set out to make, but I’m bored and I suddenly realized that I’m over-explaining the concept of me as a person.

We don’t want that, so I think we shall come to an abrupt stop here. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

Happy New Year, my babies! I hope 2024 turns out to be an amazing year for all of us and @ramblingsyoucanrelateto on WordPress.

Until next month,

Stay hydrated (very important).

Also, I think you should watch Tiktoks about your sign and laugh.

Love,

Josephine.🥂❤️

Was 2023 Good?

*Prelude*

Have you ever had to navigate heartbreak at home? You know that kind where your mum and siblings are sitting down with you and talking and suddenly the tears come so you have to pretend something got into your eye and you run into the bathroom to bawl. Yes, that kind. 

I saw a tiktok that goes something like this: 

Grief is love’s souvenir. It’s our proof that we once loved. Truly loved. Grief is the receipt we wave in the air that says to the world “Look! Love was once mine. I am capable of love. I love well. Here is my proof that I paid the price.”

And I have chosen to internalize that. 

I.

Hi my loves.

As I write this, my heart is full. There are a lot of feelings that I feel, but foremost are gratitude and pride. I am grateful to you for consistently reading my work and encouraging me by doing so. I am proud of myself for sticking to my resolutions and putting out something every month, no matter how hard it was to write. 

There’s a special spot in my heart for those of you that leave comments, the idea that my art inspires something in people and sharing my thoughts with people can help shape their lives makes me feel full of love. I love you guys for liking the articles, and sharing my links on your social media pages. 

You are my whole heart, every single reader we had this year. You inspire me and make me want to create, to do more, to leave an imprint in the sands of your hearts.

 ❤️

 

II. 

The person I was in January, when I wrote that article, is not the same person I am now. I have undergone a learning curve that is so wide and has been so impactful that it’s hard to remember who I used to be. 

One thing me and her can both agree on though, is that we did nothing but try our best this year. 

Quick recap? 

What happened in 2023? 

I wrote my first professional exams in January/February and I made distinctions in them. I like to think back on that, because it reminds me that I can do anything I put my mind to, as long as I work hard enough. 

I got my first job that paid good money, and for a while I slaved away both at work and at school. Because of that job, I was able to save up money to make two “big girl purchases” that significantly improved the quality of my life this year. 

I got burnt out, and tired of school. I was so done, but I wrote two more sets of exams after the ones in January.

I put myself out there this year. I applied for competitions and scholarships. I sent out so many job applications that it started feeling like all I did was beg people to choose me. I even pitched my crochet business to people sometimes. 

I found myself a community of friends. People with whom I feel safe, happy and like I’m floating in a bubble. People that I know will hold me up no matter what and I wouldn’t hesitate to do the same for them.

I turned 20, and it has been sweet and sad and beautiful and hard all at the same time. I lived. I tried my best to love life and romanticize my life, hard as it was on some days.

I loved, and I was loved and I’m still loving. 

I was hurt too. God, I cried a lot this year. One of my friends even suggested I do a crying wrapped for the year, but we’ll do it in 2024 because I didn’t keep count this year. 

I learnt so much about myself, about life. 

I don’t have any regrets from the year 2023, only lessons. I want to say I regret the lessons, but I actually don’t. 

III.

If we’re defining a good year as one where I was happy all through, then this was not the year for that. 

I think this year was one for growth and self-realization? I don’t know if that is a word, but that is what this year was. It was an okay year, creatively. I didn’t push myself so hard, just did enough to not run insane from keeping it all in. 

It was a year where I laughed and cried in equal parts. Sometimes I laughed through the tears because I thought it funny how sad I was at that moment.  

I have experienced a lot of intense emotions. But I’m better for all of them, or so I’d like to think. 

In 2023, I learnt that it is possible for me to experience permanent heart palpitations for almost a month. Anxiety kicked my ass. My mental health took a lot of huge hits and it took more effort than ever before to stay afloat and keep hoping. 

But yes, 2023 was good.

IV.

What are our hopes and plans for the new year?

In 2024, I want to do nothing but live. I want to be here, and be present in my life. 

I want to live in the moments and create memories I’d cherish for the rest of my life. I want to hold the people I love closer than ever, because you never know when you’d have to say goodbye to somebody.

I want to create. I want to work magic with my hands, to do with them what exactly they were made for.

I want to love. I want to be loved. If I get hurt in the process of doing that, then there is no other option than to love even harder, right?

I want to eat good food. Hot, spicy food. I want to laugh with my friends and dance with them and be happy in those moments. I want to listen to good music and read books that make me cry. I want to wear beautiful clothes and bring all my ideas to life. 

I want to take so many pictures too. I have recently realized that I don’t capture enough moments in my life. It is no longer enough to write about core memories, I need to be able to go back and see them.

I want to continue feeling all my emotions so intensely, because what will I be if I no longer feel? 

I want to live as me, in my truth and all my fullness. 

I’m going to turn 21 this year, and I want this year to be one for the books.

In order to become the person I am now (and the person I will be), I have had to lose some very important people. Therefore, we must not let that go to waste. We have to make the pain worthwhile.

V.

Will 2024 be good?

Oh yes, we have to continue this winning streak. 

I’m writing my second MB early in the year. The prospect is scary and I think I’ll almost die, but no matter what happens, it will end in May. Then I shall have the rest of the year to do my thing. So help me God. 

VI.

What happens to ‘Wild Thoughts’ in 2024?

There’s a part of me that wants to not continue the blog next year. But I don’t know, I do love writing here. It’s my own personal project and it has been fulfilling. 

I guess by the end of January, we’ll see what we decide. 

Until then, I love you my babes!❤️

Have a very happy new year.

And don’t forget to drink water.

Love always and forever,

Josephine. 

<3.

So Live Your Life.

November did not pass me by.

Not this month, no.

I lived. Out loud, I laughed. I did what I wanted to do. Even though the part of me that is scared of how people perceive me is not yet totally silenced, for once she did not win.

So I trusted my intuition and did what my body told me to do. And I loved it.

This month, I wanted to tell you guys about my sisters and how much I have grown to love them. I wanted to talk to you about what sisterhood means to me and how I would never trade it for the world.

But it seems unfair to only write about that given that so many things have happened in the past thirty days. So I decided that for this month, I would show you excerpts from some of the things I wrote. I did write a lot in November, it was a lot of emotions.

These excerpts are just tiny pieces out of the big picture that the stories I wrote are. In a way, I am doing this because I want to show you how my headspace progressed throughout the month, but this is not to say that the pieces are arranged in chronological order.

Some of them will make sense on their own, and for the others you might not even get what I was trying to portray when I wrote them.

But all that matters is that I’m sharing my art with you, right?

I.

It’s November, and life feels like it has come to a standstill.
Like, a roadblock, nothing is moving.
I don’t really know anything I just know that I am tired.
And I want to cry, but there are no tears.

II.

I was mad, and I thought I would write an article about how some women claim to be feminists but still have space for misogyny in their lives. And how everybody is not that bad if you get to know them, and how we should stop humanizing our oppressors because there is nobody that does not have a little bit of good in them. I came up with the line “There is no small misogyny or big misogyny, misogyny is misogyny. Plain and simple! Every single form of misogyny contributes to the hurt of women all over the world, Period!”

III.

I am worried that I am talentless and I will live all of my life from hand to mouth, never really having enough, not to talk of leftover.
I am scared that my skills are useless and cannot give me the type of life I want, and that I will fail miserably at school, the one thing I’m supposedly good at, because of my state of mind.
I am tired of my life as it is, the constant state of want. Never being sure of what tomorrow will bring.
It will be alright though, one day in future, I think.
It’ll be okay, right?

IV.

Earlier this week, my sisters came to spend time with me. I recently moved into my own place so it’s easier to see them. It was a really nice experience, perhaps one of the most wholesome things to have happened to me this year. It was really nice.

Talking and laughing with them made me think of how we’re actually so similar. They’re like me, with the same ideals and thought processes, just in need of some refining.

Anytime I think of my youngest sister, the memory that comes to mind is me holding her very small, fat, baby hands in mine and lifting her up and smiling at her. But the last time I held her hands, they were the same size as mine, and now she’s taller than I am and I’m teaching her physics.

It feels like a whole phase of their lives has passed me by. And now I just want to spend as much time as I can with them and tell them everything I know about anything.

V.

Same person, sometime around midnight. Sitting beside me, so close I can smell them, my head resting on their shoulder. Waking me up to eat. Asking me if I want to go sleep inside. Checking in on me. Making me feel like I matter, like they care.

VI.

We wonder if in alternate universes, the plot is kinder and we get to stay together for longer. But I guess we will never know, not in this universe.

We can only hope to make the best with the cup we have been served. Hold each other while we can, talk about everything. Take huge gulps and try to swallow as much of each other as we can.

We can only laugh together when we can, and look back on the memories we have made. Cherish them for as long as we can, until they fade away like everything does.

VII.

And I hope you understand. I hope you get me. I hope I don’t hurt you and break you.

VIII.

It feels like the universe is playing a cruel joke, like the writers of this story are having a good laugh right now.

IX.

Poverty really does limit you. It holds you down, suffocates you and stops you from breathing.
It pins you down, refuses to let you go. You think you can rise up, high above it and fly. But just as you are about to start soaring, you realize that you are tethered to the ground. You hear the sounds of a million voices laughing at you and the fact that you had the audacity to dare to dream. To try to rise above the norm that you were brought up in.
Let’s say you rise, for a while. Then what?
What happens next? How do you plan to bring everybody up with you? Or will you leave them behind in the mud?
You are not allowed to dream too big, because then that would be crazy.

X.

I did not know what I was missing before they came into my life. And like I always believe, what you don’t know won’t hurt you.
But now I do, and it absolutely sucks to have to let go of that.

Love,
Josephine.✨❤️

Feeling Everybody’s Feelings So You Don’t Have To.

I think I am too in touch with my emotions.

I cry a lot, perhaps too much. I am passionate about issues, whether or not they affect me. I don’t like arguing, but once I start, it’s a quick spiral downhill until I’m a crying, blubbering mess.

Half the time, I am berating myself for crying over little things my friends don’t think are important. You know, long after people have stopped talking about stuff, I find myself still thinking about the topic and struggling to articulate my thoughts.

I overthink, reading a lot of meaning into the littlest actions and words people say. I am always carefully watching people, noticing their tone, expressions, and the light in their eyes.

It’s very easy only to notice the ugly side of this part of me. To only see the tears and angry passion. To only hear people’s voices telling me, “Your own is too much” and “ There’s no point in arguing with you 20–year–old Twitter feminists; real life is different from social media”.

I don’t care for the 20–year–old ‘Twitter’ feminist slander sha. But let’s talk about the good side of feeling my feelings more deeply than most people.

#1

It makes me highly empathetic. Apart from feeling my feelings, I can quickly “feel for other people” and share their emotions. That makes me a good person to come to for comfort/advice/ to be happy for you when good things happen.

It might also be partly because I’m the first daughter, but it is what it is.

#2

I also get to be happy for long, that is, whenever I’m happy. When I feel good, I feel good, and it’s like a high.

#3

It gives me my activist blood. Literally, because I am so passionate about everything, I find it hard to stay indifferent in the face of perceived injustice. This is hard, particularly given that I live in Nigeria, where everybody is encouraged to stay silent and be oppressed for as long as they can.

But just know that if you ever see me fighting with somebody, it’s because they’re giving oppressor, and we don’t fw that over here.

#4

I am good at reading people and knowing how best to relate with them. I have quite the built-in bull-shit detector, and while this might appear to some people as pessimism and not giving people a chance, I like to think of it as something else. Something that protects me from people who could disappoint or hurt me in the future.

#5

I don’t forget past wrongs/good deeds.

See now I don’t know if this is such a good thing, but I’m running out of steam, so we’re just going to take it as number 5 and say goodbye.

Until the next time,

Drink water, and take care of yourself.

Love,

Me. ✨❤️

Web, Habits. Or the Impact Our Past Relationships Have on Our Lives.

Lol.

Believe it or not, that would have been this month’s blog post. But I opened the app to check out my past record, and I just could not leave you with that half-assed note.

So instead, you get an edited version of something I wrote earlier in the month.

You’re welcome.

*****

I haven’t written in a while now, because I’ve been doing life stuff, I think. So now it’s 12:32 AM on another Tuesday morning, I woke up exactly an hour ago after a four-hour after-school nap. I’m mildly irritated, but it’ll pass.  

Earlier today, I was thinking about how much loving someone allows them to have a big impact on our lives. How they come in and we learn how to do things the way they do, and when they leave, there’s still a chip of them left, a tiny part of them that you don’t even know is there until one day you find yourself doing something the way they used to. Then you get a little sad and retrospective, but you brush it off because why should you cry over lost love? 

A past lover taught you to brush your lips when you’re brushing your teeth. You have totally forgotten about that, yet one of the things you loved the most about them was the vibrant pink color of their lower lip. One day, your current lover mentions that they brush their lips because you taught them to. And then you pause midway through spitting toothpaste in the sink, and you wonder whether or not it would be appropriate to point out the irony of the situation. But you don’t, because some things are better left unsaid.

Another person you once loved taught you to cook noodles the way you do, and somehow you have managed to teach that to the person you’re with now.

There are songs that somehow found their way into your list of favorites on Spotify that you wouldn’t have discovered if they didn’t sing them to you on happy nights. Some places you haven’t been to in years but that you can’t walk by now without being hit by a truckload of memories that almost leave you dizzy.  

It’s funny, and sometimes you wonder just how intertwined all our lives are. You also wonder how many people are walking around this world doing things the way their partner’s exes used to.

You try to remember how many things you do now because it is the way your current partner likes them. You wonder if it is only easy to remember them in retrospect. You think about if your relationship with them will end one day and you’d be teaching some other person to do things the way they taught you. Or if you’d be together forever and raise little people who would also go into the world and teach other people’s offspring to do things the way you and your lover do.

It’s incredible really, this web we’ve all managed to spin with our lives. It’s beautiful, and a little bit hard to comprehend. I’ve never really understood the concept of the butterfly effect, but if ever there has been a butterfly effect, it’s this one right here.

****

Love,

Me✨❤️

Of The Women, For The Women, And By The Women.

When I started this blog some two years ago, I subconsciously decided to not write about my feminism or any of my activism. 

Then, fighting for women’s rights was not such a big part of my life. It was something I wrote about in my diary, something I wondered about and got into arguments over, but not something I was ready to tell the world about yet.

Also, I did not want to be seen as angry and bitter feminist who hates men, so instead I wrote about everything but it.

Last month, I don’t remember what I wrote about in the blog post, I just know I put up something. But immediately after I posted it, I came up with the idea for this article. 

In the past month, I have fallen asleep with the words of this article floating in front of my eyes. I have thought about the women in my life, and how much impact their friendships with me have had in shaping my life. I have thought about my relationship with my mother, and gotten emotional over the thought of my sisters. I have read articles and stories written by women, and reflected upon how similar yet different our lives have all been. I have thought to myself, over and over again, how I’m just a girl.

The thing is, I have always had girls around me, literally grew up in a house full of em. Early in my life though, I thought I didn’t like girls. For a while, I believed that I couldn’t be friends with girls because they would not accept me for who I was. 

I was socially awkward and quite unfriendly (frankly I still am to an extent), and I placed a huge importance on romantic relationships. So even though I was friends with girls, I didn’t think of them as important enough.

For a while, I felt like I lacked love in my life, and like I didn’t have quality, strong and healthy friendships in my life. I have since been proved wrong of course. 

I think being a feminist has played a huge part in my becoming friends with women. After a while you just get tired of only talking to men who can’t relate to half the things you are worried about. 

I have come across women who have loved me for who I am. Even though they know and will not hesitate to tell me when I’m being aloof and unfriendly, even though we have had fights and misunderstandings, they have loved and accepted me.

There are F and K, my first real girlfriends in University, girls with whom I learnt, grew, and explored who I really am. There were times when it was weird and I gave up on being friends with them, there are times when it was beautiful and I told myself I would never let them go, but all in all, we have loved each other. We have laughed together, and opened up to each other. Allowed ourselves to be vulnerable so that we would grow, taken correction, and been there for each other.

There is M, with whom the start was rocky, but who my relationship with has blossomed beautifully over the years. We have cried together, and had insanely long hugs in the middle of the hallway in Queens hall when things got hard and we just needed someone. We have listened to music together, fought, and fed each other. I have been there to witness the start of M’s being aware of misogyny and just how much it affects our lives, and it has been a beautiful journey, with us growing together. 

There is I, who I met and hit it off with immediately because we have so much in common. I have known her for only a short while, but she means so much to me already. She is bubbly where I am quiet, and we complement each other perfectly. 

There is K, who gave me almost all the literature on feminism and just random books that I have read. K, who I know I can text when I’m feeling sad about the most recent injustice I have seen on the internet. K, who gave me her tablet to read with when my phone got stolen on the first day of exams. I love her, and she is one of the most beautiful people I know in my life.

P was my roommate in 100l. We used to be three, but now we’re two. She has been a steady presence in my life all through the years. Laughing together, having long phone calls where we could talk about anything and everything and it all felt right. Someone I know would always be there for me because she has proven that she would, someone I love.

There’s Z, who I have known for what seems like forever but who I just started talking to. Z who takes care of me and always makes me feel safe. With Z, I have learnt a lot, and I’m still learning. But most importantly, we have laughed together, been there for each other, and I love her.

My sisters, who I love with all of my life and there are a few things I wouldn’t do for. My sisters, for whom I am fighting to make the world a better place. My sisters, for whom I rebelled so that they wouldn’t have to fight the same fights I have fought, and I am still fighting. 

My mother, who has taught me what seems like so much, but yet is not enough. My mother who gave me her fighting spirit, and almost everything that made me into who I am today. My mother who I have to fight a little so that she would accept me for myself and let me go, and know that I am old enough now to feed myself.

Random women who have passed through my life, giving me a compliment here, a word of advice there. Women who used to be my closest friends but we had to go our separate ways because life happens. Women who have been there for me, no matter how hard it was. Women who have annoyed me, and who have made me laugh. The ones who offered me a hug when I least expected it but I needed one. Ones who have pleasantly surprised me when I got to know them and learn about them. 

I have laughed and cried with these women. We have held up each other in times of need. Complained about social injustice together and how much it hurts sometimes to be a woman. Talked about our love lives and love interests, books, movies, random things, our futures, our sexualities, and just life in general.

My relationships with women are complex, each one different from the last. But if nothing else, they have all taught me one thing, that if us women don’t stick together and fight for each other, nobody else will. 

In my future, I hope to still be surrounded by women with whom I have strong, healthy relationships. I hope to grow, to appreciate the women I’m blessed to be given to do life with. I wish to meet more of them, and to be able to uplift as many as I can. 

Most importantly, I hope to never stop doing feminism. After all,  I have been female for so long, and it is only right that I stand up for myself. 

Blog Post Number 7, 2023.

“If this were to be a handwritten letter, it would have been rendered illegible by all my tears.”

This was the closing line of something I wrote a few days ago.

Do you know that feeling when it feels like your tears will never stop? And you have to hide your face from everybody that sees you during the day for fear that they’ll look too closely at you and see how red-rimmed and puffy your eyes have become?

Yeah, I thought I’d forgotten what that felt like too. 

The last time I felt that way, it was in 2019 and I had just gotten my heart broken. And my eyes were permanently leaking. I don’t think I realized how miserable I was until my father called me to ask me what was wrong with me and begged me to start eating again. 

Apparently I hadn’t eaten any food for two days. 

In retrospect, that is funny. But lol, heartbreak will almost take your life.

Anyway, now my heart isn’t broken. I don’t even think I know what exactly was wrong with me. I have an idea, bits and pieces in my head that could have formed a complete picture. 

But mostly, I was tired. I was overwhelmed by this whole thing called life, and being an adult. I felt so lonely, and I cried myself to sleep at night. I was starving myself, and I wasn’t even talking to anybody on social media, not to talk of physically. 

Now, I’d like to think I’m in a better place. And I’m not that alone, you know. 

Lately, I find myself thinking longingly about when I was younger. And times were so much better. It’s not as if things were absolutely perfect then either, but I had little to no worries. My mummy took care of everything, and I didn’t have to adult. 

I think it’s weird how I’m barely twenty but I’m already reminiscing so much about easier times, but I guess it’s a testament to how badly the country has deteriorated. 

Do you ever miss a certain period in your life? Not necessarily when you were a child, but a time when life seemed easier. A time when you could laugh out loud and long, when you felt like you were surrounded by so much love. A time when you felt safe, and you wanted to stay in that bubble forever.

Dwelling for too long in the past is never a good thing though. But I wish that if nothing else, the next time good times come, I’m able to recognize the fact that they’re good times so that I would cherish them and hold them tighter to my chest. 

For now though, I’ve stopped crying. And I’ll take it one day at a time. 

I hope you’re good too, and that you remember that it’s okay to rest when things get too much. Rest, but don’t quit. 

Because you know, na who give up fuck up.

Take care of yourself, and drink water.

Love, 

Me.🥂💕

Before 25, I will kick a cow.

Periodt.

In a few days, I will turn 20 years old. And while I have tried my hardest to not think of that fact for the past few days, it is all I can think about. 

I have mixed feelings about this birthday. I’m happy because I will finally step out of the realms of teenager-hood, and I’m sad because I’m always sad about my birthdays. It’s just a Josephine thing.

I do hope this birthday turns out to be good though, as last year’s was particularly bad. I was all alone and I cried a lot. So let’s hope this year, I’m able to do all the things I plan to do for myself on June 3rd. 

All my life, I’ve been the youngest in every place I’ve gone. From primary school to university, I have consistently been the youngest in my classes. At church, and even at home among my siblings, I have crossed milestones at the lowest age. Maybe this comes with being the brilliant over-achieving first daughter, but my life has always felt so fast-paced.

Whenever I’m asked my age, I am always reluctant to say it because the response has always been “Ah you’re young oh! You’re even my younger sister!”. And you know that thing Nigerians do when they become rude to you once they believe they’re older than you are? I absolutely hate it. But maybe now that I’m 20 I’d start saying my age more. (Lol that’s a lie) 

I started dating at 15, because I had graduated from secondary school and all my mates were dating. But now I know that was a bad idea, because if my 18 year old sister tells me she has a boyfriend now, I will throw a fit. 

At 20, I have started my own small business. She is flailing, but she is there. I am a freelance writer, I am on my way to 400 level. I have written my first medical exams and had distinctions in them. 

It seems like I have done a lot, but at the same time I probably haven’t.

At 19, my favorite song is ‘I Drink Wine’ by Adele, and I listen to it on repeat for hours on end. My favorite drink changes every-day and I love eating oats. I have found my style, and I can somewhat afford to eat what I want.

I am hyper independent, and I have a hard time accepting help from people. I am something of a pessimist, a feminist, and just a woman. 

I find it hard to go to my parents for help or advice, because I feel all grown and like I’m old. That is not so. But I spend all my time with people older than I am, of course I would feel the need to act grown.

The purpose of this article is not to tell you all that is wrong with my life though, let’s leave that for my diary to deal with. 

Today, I want to write about things I’d like to have done by 25. Just 13 things though, because a bucket list should not be too long and overwhelming. 

And because I can’t think of anything else🙊

The last time I wrote a bucket list, I was 16 years old and I had self-esteem issues. The number one item on that list was to “learn to love myself’ and today, four years later, I am glad to say that I love myself now. 

Now, let’s talk about the bucket list. By 25, I want:

• To have published a book, or two. 
• To have visited at least three countries apart from Nigeria.
• Anavrin, my small business to no longer be small. I want her to have grown into a multi-million dollar company that is self-sustainable.
• To own land, or have built a house. 
• To be fully comfortable in my own skin. To know myself, and to accept her and love her even more than I already do.
• To have attended at least one Adele concert and maybe a Rihanna one, if she ever goes back to performing.
• To no longer laugh in serious situations.
• To no longer care what people think. 
• To have a skincare routine that I can afford to follow.
• To be able to comfortably take care of the needs of the members of my immediate family.
• To learn how to make beaded bags, and embroider, and bake a croissant.
• To have taken 15 shots in one night.
• To have an article published in a best-selling magazine

Some of the things on this list might seem weird, or like I’m rushing. But I’ve rushed all my life anyway, so why not stay true to my nature and continue over-achieving? 

It’s not necessary to have done everything by 2028, but it wouldn’t hurt to have this list as a guide. 

Maybe I’d be lucky to retire early and enjoy my old age. 

On June 3rd, text me and tell me happy birthday. Send me sweet emails @olubodejosephine781@gmail.com. Pray for me, send me money, and maybe buy me gifts. 

Until the next time I talk to you, take care of yourself. And drink a lot of water.

Love, Josephine. ❤️🥂

P.S: The reason for the title of this article is because a cow kicked me during a practical class a few weeks ago, and it made me cry. Best believe I’m getting my revenge on that whole species sometime in the next five years.