Opinion+ Self Help, Rants and Bants, THINK

Unlearning Self-Hate

I used to be clueless about self love; well not anymore. Lately I’ve been learning and the process for me can only be described as grueling, painful, and liberating.

I used to think loving one’s self meant being proud and turning your nose up at peoples opinions and walking around with a superior air.

While growing up I thought it was something that was gotten from having done something right. Something that I described as a well DESERVED payment for doing good.
These days I find myself learning that, that analogy is faulty.
I am learning that Self Love means giving yourself the permission to just “Be” and being content with all that you are.
It is taking the all that you think you know about love and unlearning it.

I certainly will not say that you hate yourself, far from it, but if you are anything like me you feel like whatever move you make is being scrutinized by the entire universe and that unless they give you permission love would forever seem like a myth. You want to feel like you Deserve Love unless you’ll feel like a fraud.

We sacrifice every waking moment to the quest of waiting hand and foot on people to tell us they need us and validate our actions.

It nauseates me to think this is what I spent my 22yrs on earth doing.

We throw ourselves at the mercy of these people and enthrone them, living off the scraps they offer us. But we have the choice to forever hold up our hearts to people who would forever keep smashing them to bits or take our hearts polish them and say its ok to not know what love is but I know hurting isn’t loving”

The truth is this I haven’t mastered the art yet, I am still learning, but the more I learn the easier it becomes for me live a life filled with joy and peace.
It is easy to want to compare and belittle yourself at whatever chance you get. Just because we haven’t accomplished the things we should have at a certain age.

If we keep doing that it simply means we don’t really like ourselves at all.

I have lived so much in self hate that love now seems like a distant cousin whom I’ve never met.

But I have chosen to abandon self hate and instead start on a road that encourages me daily to embrace my flaws and all the goodness that oozes out of me even though I am shortsighted to see it sometime, That same path that shows me the escape hatch out of the perfection mentality, the constant need to be more.

These days I simply allow myself “BE”, clipping the wings of wanting to tear myself down with my thoughts, sleeping on the couch of self-forgiveness instead of lying in bed with liars whose constant torment of ” You are not enough” used to be the gospel I preached to myself daily.

Love is patient, Love is Kind…….

Love is doesn’t hold back the best of itself

Love does not pick days to love

Most importantly……

Love Does Not Hate Itself

With Love

Poems, THINK

This Is How To Die- A Poem

Eat up every poison laced meal of self
doubt and wash it down with a glass of anxiety.

Take a knife to your soul and shred every bit of kindness your mama ever taught you, Because being a flower in world where everyone is concrete Equates vulnerability to Weakness.

Inject your veins with a Milligram of blood curling screams worth of criticism from friends and foe alike and recite it as your daily Mantra.

Stay close to the edge of the cliff that was made from seeking Validity, for existing in a world where everyone wants to be seen or heard.

Choke on your Words because you believe that if you shout loud enough, you will be heard, you see; the world spins madly on and so even when you are speaking so loudly all they see is lips moving.

Accept Poison, Laced in the form of a relationship, Have it eat away at your Self-Esteem, teaching you to only want the small things, While accepting Scraps and calling it Love.

Set yourself on a platform disguised as friendship, become a hang man, put your head in a noose and watch friends turn into butterflies, fluttering away while you watch the breath slip from you.

Stab away at your soul for being the one who takes up space, who shows up every single day and lives.

Gamble away your life at a particular table called Apology, Say sorry for every single decision you’ve ever made, even for fighting everyday to stay alive.

Better yet………

Choose daily to shred off all the weight, the disappointment, the hurt, the pain, by pouring Gasoline on your being and taking a match to you.

Because you believe that the only way to destroy what they had put in you was to burn down your whole body, while chanting “When there is nothing else left to burn, You set Yourself on Fire”

This truly is only how to become ashes when you were always meant to be the phoenix.




I was 6 when I noticed that one side of Olanma’s face was sagging, so low like Iya Lasun’s aged breast which had nursed five children, it was often rumored that if you put a beetle on those breasts it would start “standing” like Aunty Laide’s own, so it was natural that I,Ogechi and Ugochukwu would call Olanma and put Ugo’s beetle on the sagging part of Her face just so that her face will stand too.

Mama chinedu caught us one day, and threatened to tell Mama, one knows that the fear of “utali” is the beginning of true wisdom. So we left olanma’s face to its fate.

On the morning when Olanma started running towards us with the same gait that Chuma the imbecile ran with, one leg few inches apart, one hand bent at an awkward angle, refusing to lift its head like Mallam Musa when he slept at his kiosk ,with spittle drooping by the corner of her lips, I stood there rooted to the ground, my brain willing me to move .

I was the smart 6 year old who had always wanted to become a doctor, I had read all the medical magazines that Brother Dami brought back from Randle General hospital to know that Olanma had partial stroke, I told mama but she told me ” That children do not suffer from stroke, only old men, who worked from dawn till dusk like Chief Olugbemi who owned the yellow house where chidinma lived, suffered such unfortunate diseases”

Everyday people came to pray in her house, they would scream and beg God to make the devil leave her alone, they scrubbed her head with iron sponge, that type that Mama Ugochukwu use in washing her iron pot, one night I heard her scream, the type Toheeb screamed when brother Saheed locked him and beat him with koboko.

That night when Olanma couldn’t move again, Papa Tolani came with his big motor and carried all her family members, her brother who we called professor, told us they were going to the “hospitah”

Later that night I had dreams of Her, but in my dreams, her face was standing and her hair which was coiled to perfection like that Fulani man who stayed at Musa’s kiosk was combed backwards and her big brown eyes were staring at me accusingly, before I saw her in the tiny box where she laid still and closed her eyes.

Okoro told me that everybody said it was somebody in our compound that poisoned her, that she ate food in Mama Blessings house and since then her face started sagging. what one did not know, one did not speak of; Mama hushed me and told me to go wash the beans so that we will start going to the junction to sell evening market.

I guess I had him to thank because It prepared me for the drama that hit our yard that afternoon, when Mama Chinedu came back and poured water into Mama Blessings house and swore to kill one of her children if Olanma died, Mama told me that it was motherly instinct that made her speak in such a ridiculous manner, she told me that when one was Faced with the reality of losing a child, one turned to a person capable of murder.

I stood in our parlor which was located at the other side of the compound and told God that if Olanma lived I would stop making her do my chores while I stuffed myself with mama Bose’s rice , and go to church every friday for children class, armed with the things I had been told at church that God Loved Me and will answer me.

This afternoon all the men in Mama Chinedu’s house and Mama Blessing’s house came together they were speaking in hushed tones and looked too serious. Like the way those elders in that “feem” “Okonta” looked when the community was in crises.

I knew it that moment that things would never remain the same. I still prayed under my breath, Lord let her live, because really what is a human being without hope? No one told me that hopes could be crushed into dust. No one told me that little girls could die and leave holes shaped like them in peoples heart.

So when Papa Tolani’s van stopped in front of our yard, and I saw one small looking box at the back with white clothe on it, I knew that all my sunday school teachers had taught me the wrong thing and I would never go to children class again

It dawned on me that,God Loved me, But Sometimes He Loved Little Girls with sagging faces that refused to stand.

“Kamnelechukwu Susan Obasi”


For Gweni; The Reason May Became Special :)

“You Go Dey Alright She Said”
I still find myself saying that phrase when I feel overwhelmed or uncertain about a certain situation.

This is for that one time when we met on the streets of twitter.

This is for that one time we felt “Americanah” was highly overrated.

This is for the other times when I felt like we were kindred spirits.

This also is for those times when distance became so unbearable, and we could go days without speaking to each other, but when we do we just pick up from where we left off.

This also is for those times when I would whatsapp you about something that made me happy or sad or I just wanted gist.

This is for when you amazed me and gave me a book I had longed to read. “Jeffrey Archer’s – A Twist in The Tale” ok not give exactly but prompted me in downloading it”

This too is for that one time when you wrote me that beautiful note, I still feel butterflies when I read it.

This is also for that one time when you told me about side hustle, when you support my art with your words.

This is also for all the beautiful memories we would still share; yeah for the bachelorette parties, the baby showers, Long phone calls, the traveling to see places, buying all the books on amazon, eating all the chocolate we lay our hands on, serving God diligently and getting old and trying to see whose gray her fits her more.

There are friends you would meet and they simply “get you”, no pretense. They encourage you to see past your flaws, and dare you to be you.

I wouldn’t even start to tell you how amazing you are, even without having met you I just know it, like Gods Word Shut up in my Bones.

I pray you soar, I pray you shine, I pray you win daily.

Come June 2015 I hope to work miracles, then we can eat a big cake on your behalf, but for now I am just content with saying happy birthday to the most amazing person on earth.

Words aren’t enough Gweni’ to say all I want to say.

Daughter of consolation.
A Blessing.
A Lifter of Men.
An encouragement.

I love you from the very depth of my heart *dont you dare roll your eyes at me*

Happy birthday Gweni’. You deserve all the love in the world.

Love Suzanne.


“That Awesome Love Story I Wrote”

Be Warned This is not a typical Boy meets girl story!
Sue doesn’t do Sappy.
Its beautiful in a way.
And its my second attempt at writing fiction.
I stood there glancing at the sky, that was so blue it hurt to look at it, but was so radiant and perfect that it broke your heart in a good way to not look at it, I have been standing here feeling the weight of all my baggage weighing me down.

No man wants a girl with all my baggage, look at me with all my self doubt,insecurities,I found what
appalled me: a zoo of lusts, a bedlam of
ambitions, a nursery of fears, a harem of
fondled hatreds. My name was legion.” Far
from being a bad, morbid, overly
introspective thing, yet this man has decided that I was the only thing that mattered to him.
It was too good to be true. I kept staring at the sky, sometimes silence was all that was needed, nature can be a comforting companion no need for it to reply to the questions buzzing in my head but yet providing serenity to bring me back to sanity.

I remember my first encounter with him; it was on a cold wednesday when I felt like my world was crumbling, I couldn’t be bothered to get out of bed, suffering from one of my depression bouts that I picked up a letter from him, telling me how much he loves me, It annoyed me so much, that I flung it to the far end of my room. Why would this man lie to me? Is it not enough that I am alone and lonely? Why should he care to love “me”. In my anger I decided I was going to talk to me about his little prank and end it before it got too far.

I got out of bed, feeling woozy from lying down too much and taking painkillers in attempt to dull a pain whose source was more emotional than physical, how does one cure emotional pain with painkillers? I took a shower,dressed up and prepared to write him back.

I finished writing in two seconds with words “Leave me alone, I am not good enough”
I picked up his letter and was looking for a return address and was pissed when all I saw was “In Your Heart”

What kind of man signs a letter with “in your heart”?
Besides who writes letters in 2015 anymore? Chuckling to myself as I remember the Nipost office down my street.
Still I wouldn’t be bothered.

I decided I was going to look up his profile just to get a kick out of it. I Searched for his name on Google and suddenly the color drained from my face, what sort of Joke was this?
He isn’t even wealthy enough to take me on dates, has no ferrari, porsche, nor family name, he wasn’t the most attractive of men.
My love life is doomed if men like this were seeking me out.
I looked for a phone number, so desperate to call him and warn him to “Piss off”
What I saw actually pissed me off, his phone number was “just talk am listening”
Are we in the stone age?
I quickly turned my data off.
What a waste of time.

I suddenly felt the sudden need to try the silly idea just because I didn’t want him to contact me anymore.
I sat still thinking about what to say, I wasn’t raised to be rude, I started by saying my name, and why I was calling him. Leave me alone was all I said, it was barely a whisper but I hoped he got the message.

As I went about doing whatever caught my fancy. I noticed another letter on my table that simply said.
“I will never leave you nor forsake you even till the end of time”

Rolling my eyes at the letter I shook my head, this is the corniest pickup line ever. I flung it with the first one that I saw in the morning.

Why would this man love me so deeply?

I decided to talk to him again
I was bored.

The more I talked the more enchanted I became with him, I didn’t want to stop talking. I would tell him everything from who started a fight with me, to who I felt hated me, to how I didn’t like being depressed and stuff. Almost everything.

I didn’t have to bother about talking too much, he was there, even at 2am when everyone was sleeping, when I became sick he wrote me saying ” I have Healed you”

I didn’t want it to stop.
It was personal, something to finally call mine. I didn’t want to share.

I found out I just wanted him to not stop replying, and oh the letters after the first two was so beautiful.
I say again I didn’t want it to end!

He told me of how they killed him, no lot literally, they smashed nails into his hands and legs and left him for dead. He died! And I cried so much because i was the reason he stayed on the cross.
His love was so great that that pain had nothing on that love.

But then

I started cheating
I started messing around his brain.
I started playing mind games
I found someone new.
I had mistaken a prince for the King.
I wanted out!

I didn’t speak to him for days.
I wouldn’t read his letters.

I killed him all over again!

Yet he was so kind.

He brought me gifts, he would make me laugh until my stomach hurt.
I still loved him.
But I put him in the Dreaded Friend Zone
When all he wanted was for me to Love him so Badly.

Then calamity struck.
The toad I left him for messed me up so bad that I didn’t know what to do. He broke my heart to smithereens.

Yet I cried out to him and he answered.
He nourished me back.
He steadied my heart once more.
And here I am basking in the warmth of his constant Love.
And he got me wondering why I ever left him in the first place.

I ask again, why would a perfect person love a flawed lady like me?

Then something happened.
I thought he was cheating on me.
I realized everyone loved him, and he loved them back.
You could say he was a Ladies man.
I couldn’t imagine him having the kind of relationship he had with me with anyone else.

But he wrote me a letter ” Love is not Jealous” he said.

He is everything I want and ever would need

I am his bride and someday I hope to be united with him.
He is Emmanuel, Love personified.

The Love of my Life.

I am Suzanne and this is My Love Story.