The older I get, the more I realize how we ladies need strong, supportive women in our lives. I loved my mother-in-law, and after I moved to Sydney, I was ‘adopted’ by my church mother, a wonderful older supportive woman who has since moved away. I miss them both, but very glad for the supportive nurturing love they gave to me.
I am thankful for the strong, kind women I have befriended here on WordPress, and also in my daily life I am focusing on my female friendships. We can bring so much to each other’s lives, all for the better, and we need each other.
Sometimes we do what we have to do. At the time I was studying, there were parts I did not like at all. Actually, anything to do with one of my majors. I loved the applied maths and linear programming. Matrices and maths and solving the traveling salesman problem. It was defined and I understood it and enjoyed it. But unless I studied further and specialized, there didn’t seem to be much use for it. So I followed the generic part of my degree, and took up an IBM graduate position.
It filled me with daily dread, and so I left. I joined a small team doing technical ‘stuff’. I was a junior, ran around a lot, crimped a lot of cables and pulled out network and dialogic cards, replaced them, wrote C code, worked late nights, bought a car and moved out of home.
And after that I was on my own. Sink or swim baby and make sure to earn enough to feed myself.
I don’t think I’ve ever fully recovered. The question is, what changes to make to live a better life? To not be in tears every day and constantly feeling less than? I’ve asked myself this question so many times. And I have no answer!
Big news is! I gave my first toastmasters speech this evening. And I never would have thought it, but apparently I am a natural! I have to admit, I love public speaking. This is really strange to think because I hardly ever speak during the day. Just keep to myself, try not to burst into tears, and harass people for help. And go home and write poetry. Because poetry 😍
But this evening during my speech, when I wasn’t speaking on anything technical with the accompanying feeling of being less than, I was a totally different person.
I received the most fantastic feedback. Like they were listening to my speech like it was scenes from a movie. And I have the most open, sparkling personality and smile. Wow. Was that really me they were referring to? My bff has told me that too before, she said there are two sides to me. The confident sparkling Vonita, and the other one.
This morning I received a beautiful encouraging message. We do not need to do much to be a help to others. Sometimes we can just be ourselves. And that is enough.
I was feeling so down on Friday, and my mood was really low, and simple faith has lifted me up again. We are spiritual beings in a natural form, and our natural bodies need natural resources. There will always be that need to feed it. But our natural form will fade and die. Our bodies will die. But we are spirit! There is something higher!
It is a lesson once again to be thankful and grateful for our lives, and the air we breathe. We are alive! We breathe! Yay for that.
The birds outside are chirping, and the sun is rising. Grace for today, that is my prayer.
My mother left us too soon. It is strange how you can have a life, a home, everything around you as it is, and then suddenly you are no longer there. Just plucked from your life, and there you go, dead.
I sometimes think about the life my mother left behind. If she suddenly returned how everything has changed. Her home is no longer. Her children have married. She would be a grandmother. There is google. There are smartphones. Can you believe that 21 years there was no google?
The last time I saw my mother she was wearing a blue sweater I bought her. She was going on an overseas vacation with my father. We drove to the airport, hugged goodbye, and then she was gone. I was 21, soon to be 22.
I went to a wedding yesterday, it was a beautiful day, and reminded me so much of my own wedding. We also had a garden wedding over lunch, and it was a bright sunny day.
On the day of my wedding, my father was to collect me at my home and take me to the venue. He arrived late! Everyone was seated and waiting, and I was only leaving my home. I ended up half an hour late. I could see on the recording afterwards my husband anxiously waiting for the car to arrive.
As soon as I left the car, I grabbed my father (after a quick scuffle on which side I should be on, minor overlooked details leading up to the day), and practically ran down the aisle. Really, I’m not joking. There were no small slow steps for me, no sirree, I was late and in a rush and I had my husband-to-be waiting. Fortunately, he waited. That was fifteeen years, two kids and a miscarriage, another continent, three months and 11 days ago.
I’ve been on medication for five weeks today. I still have anxiety and my obsessive thoughts, but I noticed something yesterday.
My nails have grown! Normally they get to a certain length, less than what they currently are, and I tear them off in a state of anxiety. Usually when I’m at work and struggling with something. I know. It’s disgusting. A bad habit. This past week I have been under time pressure and trying to learn something. But I still have my nails.
Is it because of the happy pills? I’m not sure. Maybe it is!
At the end of last year I volunteered for a project at work. I had no idea how I would build it, or how to even start. But I decided I would do it.
And I’ve completed it. The client finished their user acceptance testing yesterday. There are some parts I would do differently if I had to do it over again. There were difficulties and challenges, and failures too. But even so, it is done.
I have achieved something. I have learnt. I have created.
With the magic of Google (thank you, Google maps), I was able to locate the exact tree under which I sliced the soft skin of my foot, of which I still bear the scar. I was six years old when I was stood on a broken piece of glass, and all I saw and felt was never-ending blood.
I love that the tree is so well maintained, and clearly loved with that bright red ribbon.
If I close my eyes and travel back, I smell banana yoghurt as well as choc chip, I remember ballet lessons, being left out of my 8 year birthday party (all my friends wanting to play with my sister), a red bicycle, and a broken collarbone. I remember wooden floors and happy times. Sitting in the backseat of the car holding a tea towel over my bleeding foot, all the while it was getting soaked.
And the Friday after my birthday we left school early, moved from my home town, away from my best friend (who for some reason must have not been at my party), and to the big lights of the city (Johannesburg). Away from the beautiful tree, and the best school ever. Jenny, David, Angie.
My first full time position was a pretty cool graduate position at IBM. Yes. That IBM. I managed to land this plum position partly because I studied a computer degree and so I qualified for it, and partly because of the interview. I quite confidently assured the executive director (or whatever important title he had), that yes I do have weaknesses, and one being that I am an alcoholic. (What I really meant to say is I am a workaholic).
He was shocked, and so was I. It was awkward. I blushed like a tomato, and above all of this it was funny. No, I am definitely not an alcoholic. No, not me.
And so I got the job. And I started. And I hated it. I did not fit in. I was placed into a business strategy team (or something), and not a technical team. There didn’t seem to be any technical teams, only sales and marketing and business-related stuff. I needed technical.
My mother died suddenly, and so without having anyone to disappoint, I left. I did so without having another job lined up. I didn’t care. I left at the end of July, and on 1 September I started a new job. A job I loved.