I suffered some level of belittlement from those I brought close and held in high esteem. Most of them were family, others, friends. These were people I looked up to, people I thought were more elevated than I was….

I was wrong. 

Some with whom we had the same blood running in our veins, whom we shared the same inside jokes with, the same bed even. But somewhere in their minds they smirked “you’re not that special after all.”

Were they better off materially than we were? No. 

We were privileged to have more food in our bellies and resources at our disposal than many others did; to the glory of God.

But somehow, my perspective of myself then acted as a catalyst for how they treated me. 

My grammar was supposed to be cleaner than how it awkwardly rolled off my lips. After all, I claimed to be in one of the prominent schools, probably better educated…

They must have thought…

So their laughter when I slipped—which was often, because I tried to measure up when they were around—formed eerie images in my head and resounded for days.

Their scoffs and smirks at my inadequacies, laid bare under their demeaning high looks and I withdrew into the safety of my heavy shell most times.

Stuttering at times, stumbling on words, slipping and just talking nonsense in a bid to make some sense and gain their approval, became my pathetic reality. 

Fast forward…

A couple of years down the line, I came across my spiritual home—what deliverance it brought to my soul.

I learnt about my identity in Christ, how beautiful my edges were, because they suited me uniquely. That my life needn’t have all the perfect curves for me to pass off as beautiful.

Perfect imperfections. Lol.

I got fed with the right nutrients…milk, then meat till I matured and became rock solid! 

An Amazon in my world…

Best of all…the Word shaped me and is still shaping me…

Now I’ve observed, these days that the words from my mouth are heavily weighed and even waited upon by these same folks.

Now I speak with my head high, a little knowing smile at the corner of my lips, and wise words festooning my graceful speech…

So I wrote this poem as I thought back in retrospect, grateful to God for how well I have grown…

ROSES AND THORNS

This is my story...

A tale of deep cuts and bruises

On this Everest called love...

Sadly, my innocent eyes have revered those who broke me the most...

Most unfortunately, with bitter impatience, swallowed I 

the swords and thorns they drove down my throat...

Yet, over and over again, my tender heart, 

remained adamant, riveted to them...

My words were taken with the wave of the hand...

My actions, however pure, were overly bespattered with insignificance...

My mistakes were a Colossus in their perfect little world

My flaws,  all bare before them, was a phantom of disgust to their cocked brows.

And so I stood, ever so naked in their presence...

But they were loved ones, they were family.

And they so boldly declared

The word 'love' from their infallible lips.

This is my story...

The story of my sudden rise, like the novel sun at dawn.

But fiercely  reinforces her power in the harmattan's noon.

Bones so hard they won't even bend...

Skin so tough, the once piercing words now ricochet sporadically

Heart, still tender, but wiser now...

Lips now bring forth words, dipped in honey...

Now my actions leave their mouths agape in awe and admiration...

Eyes, that once lowered in self-doubt  now pierce their beings in a single stare... 

Behold! For with a formidable stance,

this queen rules her QUEENDORM...