Make it Count

Water your own grass...

Someone asked me what I’m grateful for in this new chapter of life, and I said, "Being alive." He scoffed and told me to think again.

That reaction was telling. Some people walk through life with a bitter heart, carrying a "why not me?" complex like a badge of honor. This man spent the last three years grinding, trying to "level up" so he could finally access the women who once rejected him. Now, with money in his pocket but no depth beyond his bank balance, he still stinks of insecurity.

I considered explaining why my gratitude is rooted in something as fundamental as breath, but I let it go. Why waste energy convincing a man who sees life through a narrow, critical lens? His world is built on complicated meanings, unstable material things, and a habit of dismissing simple joys. I refuse to grant people like him access to my peace, even in passing conversations. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that misery always wants company.

The last decade of my life? A whirlwind. A patchwork of joy, reflection, and a whole lot of discomfort. If I had to describe it in seasons, it would be Spring—messy, unpredictable, but always blooming.

At 19, I was desperate for a solution to painful periods and often thought death was the answer. At 20, a kind UK doctor handed me options for hormonal balance, a small but life-altering relief. That same year, I got stood up at Swindon rail station in -4° weather, an experience that led to a downward spiral. At 23, a brutal breakup had me at a suicide window on the 5th floor of a Lekki apartment, drowning in pain words couldn’t express. Grief therapy became my lifeline, setting me on a path to healing. At 24, I found love again. At 26, the pandemic unraveled everything, and I relapsed, but this time, instead of choosing my old "solution," I self-sabotaged in ways that took years to undo.

By 28, something shifted. I found purpose in my work, bet on myself, and started winning—in career, friendships, finances, and the pursuit of joy. That decade is coming to a close, and I’m walking into summer. And let me tell you, summer looks good.

Spring is deceptive like that. The flowers bloom, the sun peeks out, but the wind still whistles through buildings, and rain can last for days. You might need a light jacket even when you thought it would be warm. It reminds you where you started, keeps you on your toes, and occasionally blindsides you with unexpected chills. But in between all that, there’s beauty. That’s what my 20s felt like.

I know many women enter their late 20s and early 30s with a sense of dread, feeling like they’re running out of time to reach milestones they “should” have hit by now. To them, I say: keep watering your grass. If you don’t believe in how much growth is happening, go through your sent emails from five years ago. Compare the friendships you had then to the ones you have now. Scroll through your old photos. Revisit the prayers you whispered back then. Five years ago, I was unemployed, struggling to afford toiletries, relying on a food business that needed at least five orders a week just to keep me afloat. A year later, I landed the worst job I’ve ever had. The year after that? I found the best job I’ve ever had. Things can change in an instant or drag on endlessly, but eventually, your work bears fruit. Imagine if I had let the hard moments stop me from moving forward.

Let me paint you a picture: I wouldn’t be here. One of my attempts might have been successful, leaving my loved ones to a lifetime of grief. I wouldn’t know the joys I cherish now, the friendships that fill my life with laughter, the peace I fought so hard for. I wouldn’t have discovered my love for alternative and soul music, rekindled my passion for literature through African authors who write women so well, even in the face of suffering. This blog wouldn’t exist. I wouldn’t have tasted the best sushi of my life at Kyoto on a fully funded trip. My dad and I would still have a strained relationship, and it would have reflected on my siblings’ lives too.

This is why I keep going.

The grass is greener where you water it. If you crave soft and attentive friendships, be a soft and attentive friend. Allow time to reveal the truth about the people, jobs, and love interests in your life. Pay attention. The answers are already in front of you. While waiting for big wins, celebrate the small ones. Progress isn’t always a straight line; sometimes it zigzags, sometimes it flows like a wave. The trick is to enjoy the ride and pick up the lessons that truly matter. Travel light. Your journey is vastly different from anyone else’s, so stop seeking validation in someone else’s curated highlight reel.

Things I enjoyed…

• Reading mature female friendships in Dream Count

• Using a menstrual cup for the first time

• Being proven right about certain people (sweet, sweet vindication)

• Getting professional pictures taken in preparation for my birthday next month

• Olivia Dean live at the Hammersmith Apollo (I love everything she sings)

For April, I will gift you all an article every week even if it kills me.

Stay jiggy folks,