My state of being.
” The lord shall preserve me from all evil, He shall preserve my soul, the Lord shall preserve my going out and my coming in. From this time forth and even forever more, from this time forth and even…. Forever… More.”
When I was a child, some of my first memories were of music. 90s hip hop is my childhood theme, I am born free as they say in South Africa, 1994 baby.
On the first of july I arrived just in time for lunch, as I always do… (maybe my friends have noticed tihihi)
So, yeah, I arrived neh. I was within as they say in my home country Botswana. Even though I was born in Nairobi Kenya, shout out to my Kentswana buddies btw…
So I was chilling neh, then at 3/4 months I got on my first plane neh. I don’t remember how that was… Cause my memories don’t do that, (lmk if yours do in the comments below.)
Then I came to beautiful Botswana. My God, that place is AMAZING .
Y’all should come visit.
Anyways fast forward to 2020.
I’ve always had a hard time explaining who I am and where I am from because I am many things. I am not alone in this, EVERYONE IS MANY THINGS ALL AT ONCE. And that my friends is what being alive means. Being everything and sometimes feeling like you are nothing at all.
Yesterday I felt like nothing.
This morning I feel like a hero.
Saturday night I felt like a piece of actual excrement.
Now I feel like such a boss bitch and you can’t tell me I am not.
So, let me reintroduce myself.
“I am the stone that the builder refused…”
I am Ivy Mutheu Sumbi, daughter of Mbula and Mulu. I am a Kamba woman. I am a Motswana by the virtue of being raised there. I am a Kenyan because I say I am a fucking Kenyan (bitch don’t get me started).
I am African despite having a Disney Channel accent.
I am clothed in strength and dignity.
I am currently laughing at the days to come.
So… That’s me.
Who the fuck are you to tell me otherwise.
Tell me who you are in the comments. You’ve been part of my family for 7 years now. All love.
Maybe I don’t like you in the way that you think I do. Maybe I just want to be calm… Like you.
Your level of zen makes me question myself.
What I want
Who I am
I hadn’t met you before now
But that quiet in your eyes
That stillness on your lips
The way you craft silence out of words
The way you attract my attention
Your lips, still but speaking to me
The flutter of your eyelashes calling me
I am not into you in the way you think.
You aren’t my muse… But damn I wish you were.
I am not asexual.
I am not sexually attracted to you.
But damn I wish I was. That would explain everything.
This heart ache would make more sense.
This love in my heart would make sense.
These dreams where I hold you close… Make sense.
I don’t love you.
I want to be you.
Does that make sense?
MUTHEU wa Mbula
I am starting to see life for what it is.
A series of mistakes, that if repeated, lead to destruction of self.
Languishing in it makes misery my home.
I could push past myself and love me ’cause I’m lovable.
I am starting to see love for what it is, not what I want it to be. All the words I hold in my tongue so I don’t offend you and the decisions I make despite your advice. And the frustration you have with my ways.
My frustration with you not being on my side.
You won’t love me to my death bed, I heard you say that.
I don’t want to be the kind of person that constantly surpresses who I am and what I want to fit into a world that couldn’t care less.
I don’t want to run away from things that haven’t happened yet.
I fell into the darkness I thought was myself and couldn’t get up.
I am loving myself. It means looking her in the eye every day and giving her pleasures she’s never had.
And that’s okay.