It is Saturday morning and it has been a few months since I wrote something here. It is not because I did not have anything to share but I had to much in my mind that I had been finding hard to put down. So many ideas have been popping in my mind, head, and being. But mostly, in my heart. I have been feeling things in the deepest of my being, living my truths, the joyful as well as the painful ones. The joys and celebrations of my parenting journey as well as the disappointment of one of my relationship, that I had invested a lot in. See, I do love to feel things deeply and I do love to share. I do reflect on things I do, choices I make, things I chose to ignore even though they are bothering me or things I consciously choose to invest in carefully weighing in my options.
Right now, my mind takes me to the days when my youngest was nearly two years old and I had discovered her capacity to know clearly what she does like and what she does not like and her will to make herself heard. Whether a choice between fruits to take at snack time, what to wear and when or what game to engage in. I was amazed on how we would insist or impose her on something, she would stand, look straight into my eyes and say a resounding No! At first I was shocked! But the intensity of her eyes, the confidence in her body when she said no, every time made me stop and pay attention before I take my next move. It was not just when she said No it was even when she said Yes. She meant it and this made me think. I wondered, how an earth a two years old knows exactly what she wants? She was my second and I wondered how come I never noticed before? Was our first not sure of herself or is it simply because I never noticed? I am not sure. Maybe it is because our first had us wrapped around her finger.
As a toddler, our first was very independent, less engaging in conversations, happy doing her own thing. I thought she was independent simply because she was our first, without other children around to play with. She loved to run around the house, climb the kitchen cupboards and many times we found her on the top of kitchen work surfaces going through the top shelves of the kitchen cupboard. She never fell while going up or down the cupboards whether we were watching her or not. For the time we observed her, she always careful climbed, using different strategies to get herself up. Sometimes she would use the lower cupboards shelves and open the cutlery draw to get herself up or/and occasionally bringing her small chair to use as support to get herself to the height of the kitchen working top, surface. She would be looking for either a snack or a bowl to play with. She also loved to write, she discovered pencil and papers when she was probably 15 months and by the time she was 18 months she could hold a pen really well and looking at her, you would she think that she probably knew how to write. She had one particular hobby, writing on the walls. When she started this, she was unstoppable. When things were quiet around the house, and I or her Dad were busy doing chores or just in a conversation, by the time I would go check on her she would be either playing with her toy, drawing or writing on the walls. Most of the time using her coloured pencils but her favourite was using a pen. We would rush and take the pen off her hand and give her a paper or activity books to draw in, which she would turn away and go back to the walls. I can’t count how many times we scrabbled that wall of her scribbles, drawings. She also used to run around the house so quick and a few times bumped her head either on the Fridge, wall or floor outside and a few times as first time parents we took her to the Royal Hospital for Children fearing the worst but eventually being turned away by what the Doctors took as a scratches, nothing serious. Well the joys of being a first time parent. I remember a few occasions when she would spill a drink on a friend when we visited our friends, the looks we got from our Rwandan friends in some of the rare gathering with some of them giving us a piece of their mind: Hey you are spoiling this child too much. Or, you are too soft on her or you need to get your parent act together! Some would go as far as suggesting, hey you need to have a second child so this one behaves (You would be surprised to hear that this is common in Rwandan conversations or circles where by when a youngest child behaves a certain way people suggest getting another kid will automatically correct the behaviour of the current child – may be this explains why our ancestors had many children😀). Today thinking at the ridicule of this suggestion make me smile!
So with our first child I never paid attention or noticed about her confidence in making her choices as I noticed with our second, maybe because they had different personalities or the fact that I was at different stage of my parenting journey.
Anyway where I am trying to get? Looking back at my own childhood I do not remember being asked what I particularly liked. What was my favourite colour, what did I like the most? I find myself trying to answer these questions as an adult and some I am still discovering. What is my favourite colour? Blue is my favourite colour though I find that red is my favourite too especially when it comes to dresses. I love red dresses, for me or even someone else wearing red dress or top. Yes I love red and blue in different shades. What do you I like to eat? Mmmh not sure. Apparently I am a fussy eater so I have been told and there might be a truth in that. My mum told me when I was a baby I was a fussy eater too. I also love to engage in a good conversation. I do. Deep conversations are my favourites. Though I have engaged and still engage in small talks for necessity they are least of my favourite and I do try to reduce or avoid them when I can and able to make that choice for myself. No surprises there coming from a long line of story tellers, my mum being one of them. And I do enjoy my mum’s story telling, her level of detail and expressions she makes when telling a story! And I miss that! One of the downside of living far from my country of origin, far from families and friends.
Going back, the community I grew up in or cultural set-up or even the dynamic of my family, as one of the youngest and a people pleaser at it then, I remember following in the footsteps of my siblings. I was what you would call an easy going child, I was a happy child, loved helping around the house, entertaining, I loved to play, dance and sing and I was not shy at all. I was also an open book, when I was sad it was clear I was and when I was happy it was the same. In my earlier years of primary school I had a few nicknames that referred to my enthusiasm and energy. My teachers use to refer to me as” Dynamique”. I was constantly moving about, never sitting in one spot and I loved any game involving running and I was good at it. Though when I was in my teens I started to be shy, but this is a story of another day.
In those days, we weren’t asked about our choices as such, many choices were made for us and I was happy that way and if I wasn’t I had to let it go because there was no other way. Or was there? It was our parent way or teacher way or we would feel the full weight of consequences if or anyone who would dare push for a different way. There were many children who dared challenge the adults way but they were most of the time punished. If you were like my oldest sister who knew her mind and pushed boundaries, you were punished for it or you would find yourself in many fights. My brothers pushed my parents boundaries too and they got into trouble too many times. I was very observant as a child therefore I learned to be on the right side and be compliant, a habit that followed me way long even in my teenager years and young adulthood until I started to challenge it!
The journey of self-discovery. When did this start? Maybe earlier than I think. Going back as a young child I remember roughly knowing about what I wanted and occasionally asking things to my parents, siblings. Sometimes it paid off and I got what I wanted, other times I got in trouble.Just like any other child I learned to know the good times to ask for something or times to let it go because my parent weren’t in the right mood, so to say! I learned that there is time for everything. Time to express my truths and times to just keep quiet and let it go. Thinking about it, this is a dynamic for any human experience right? As I grew up, I started to develop a sense of self and knew particularly what I liked and what I did not like.However the more I grew up I realised it was not that easy to express my truths or even did not know how to express them. I also recognise while growing up, I had also other ways or say room to express myself, a bit more freedom to do things, making comparison to current days whereby our children are not able to do many things I was able to do when I was their age. But then again the context of our lives are totally different.
Right, where am I on that journey of self-discovery? I must say, I am in a good place. Let me be clear. It is not a comfortable place, rather a difficult one as I am confronting some of my most difficult realities, truths. With that, many dynamics in my relationships have changed or are changing. Some for the best but some for the worst. I have kept some, left some and still undecided on others but as a result I know it is the right price to pay to live an authentic life, whatever that means for me. I am living my deepest truths, the scariest ones but it is a journey I have consciously embarked on. I have been on it actually longer than I might have envisaged but what I am meeting on the way is a story worth sharing. The truths I am sharing or I will be sharing are and will be a self-reflection on how far I have come and how much growth I have had and still to have. How much of me I have taken as part of me, accepted without shame or fear.
One thing for sure I discovered that I am sure of a hundred percent is this: I do love being a parent and with all the joys and pain it brings, mostly joys I recognise, it is a journey I fully and consciously immerse myself in. Without any doubt that it is one of my most rewarding part of my life journey and that I am grateful to be. No wonder my parents called me Nyinawumuntu!
Another thing I know is, I do express myself truthfully and honestly when in safe spaces or consider to be. This has either been rewarding or backfired so many times but it is one of the things I do know I won’t give up on. Why? Because I do love authentic relationships whether at home, work or elsewhere. When I show up, I show up as me, not always but when I fail to be myself,I found it to be my biggest pain, the bigger there is.
But then again, who is this “myself” I keep referring to? Well, duh! A journey of self-discovery? I am hoping down the line I would have more clarity to who she really is.
The journey of self-discovery continues, and today I decided to share this piece on mind today. What next? We shall see.
Mimi Saturday 29-01-2022
