PICTURE-PERFECT RELATIONSHIPS, AKA 'COUPLE GOALS'

Hello darlings! I trust you have all kept well, loving even if treated unkind, and  healthy even if broke lol....
So early this week, thanks to the internet and a bunch of sleepless neighbors, we were served some drama when a prominent vlogging couple had a nasty breakup, or extension of a breakup, and got some text and even video evidence of the goings-on.
This made me want to write about those picture-perfect couples we all have seen at some point of our lives (especially on social media), or even have the pleasure of knowing personally. Although there is no such thing as a perfect union of any kind, we are all really easy to deceive and find ourselves typing fast 'couple goals' on pictures of people whom we have never ever met just based on what they share online.
As either a victim or ambassador (depending on where you stand) of being idolized as a perfect couple member myself, I'm here to tell you that the fights are bitter, and the compromise needed is out of this world.
Contrary to popular belief, we do not always split the tab and the house chores, neither do we find ourselves completing each other's sentences and being synchronous in everything we do.

Sometimes he wants left while I want right, and others he won't eat dagaa yet it may be all I'm craving for.
Other times he will refuse to help out with some duty when I'm feeling too unwell to do it, or even act up a storm if I ask him to help, and I in turn will archive this to torment him with days, weeks, or even months after the event, at my own pleasure.
Outside, people see us stepping aside for the other to pass, or calmly arguing about some issue or other with healthy attitudes and hearty smiles, and for some reason they think that we carry this to our home and stay like that from sun up to sun down.
This is honestly not even possible to say the truth, because we are two different people with different backgrounds and upbringing, different opinions and even different hormones flowing through us, of variable concentrations and combinations, so stress will affect us differently, for instance.
I cannot even start to say how difficult it is when I'm pregnant or we are going through some financial issue or just generally under pressure from life;we borderline turn into animals and the house becomes a multi-room fight club.
When the kids are around and/or awake though, we try very hard to disagree amicably; so hard, in fact, that it is becoming a kind of second nature to us to have a diplomatic fight without raising our voices or lifting our fists against each other. Personally I grew up

in a home where my parents fought plenty, openly, and no holds barred, though never physically but verbally and up to this day, I can't stand being yelled at and being in an environment where people are yelling at each other stresses me tf out.
I do not want to put my kids through this, and fortunately, neither does he, so for this I am lucky-we all are, because we have relative peace of mind while at home, and even if the two of us are fighting, it becomes very exhausting to keep switching from angry to happy, back to fight mode then again play mode. Over time, I hope we will be able to stop altogether, but I am not disillusioned enough to imagine that our seas will be permanently calm.
Still, I keep praying for the best.
I believe that it is this kind of irrational thinking that has pushed the divorce rates through the roof, the thinking that one can find a spouse that will never be angry, will always be supportive, and will never be broke (lol for that one especially). It is not even that they grew up in perfect households, and they are not perfect themselves, but they seem to think that they can have a tv-kind of person, and it saddens me to say that girls and ladies are the worst afflicted.
It is so bad that I had a friend who used to tell me that she's 'talking to' about four guys at any given point, and when I asked her how she would feel if the guys were also 'talking to' other ladies, she hesitated before saying that she would not really mind. So then I asked her what her endgame was, and she told me she wanted to settle with one that ticked a majority of her boxes, which included having a car, and for the longest time ever, she would pick a guy then drop him, because according to her 'he was wealthy but didn't have good looks, or he was handsome but didn't drive, or he expected me to stop talking to the other guys'
..etc....
...etc....
....etc....
So eventually I told her she wasn't being realistic, and that she should also realize she had some glaring flaws herself so she can't just hop from boy to guy to boy and so on because eventually she would fail at her own game, and she chastised me, asking me why I was saying that things like driving were not necessarily deal breakers yet when I met and settled for my boyfriend/baby daddy/mzee he was driving.
I wondered if it had been a competition all along, but she went on to tell me that most of her friends

in serious relationships were with driving guys. It didn't seem to change her mind when I told her that he was not driving at the time we met, and we actually got serious a while before he  got the car, and though we stopped arguing at this point, I'm not sure if she heard me. All the same, she eventually settled down with a guy with a car, and a general nice personality, so I was kinda relieved that she had managed to have her cake and eat it too, and yes, there is no tragedy to read about here.
I was a bit careful about talking relationship issues with her after that however, because we were clearly of two very different mind-sets, and we drifted apart since then so apart from the random checking up on her, we don't exactly talk that much.
It just got home to me at that time that females seem to have their priorities messed up, because they will very often choose wealth over charisma, kindness, and even health.
I'm not saying go to the gutters to collect the brokest of the broke, after all guys will also seek out the most attractive female they can find to shack up with, just that you should not dismiss everyone who can't drive you to a black-tie dinner every two weeks because who knows, you may walk everywhere but glow from the unadulterated love you are getting, all while keeping fit.....
That's all I have for today, and I hope that people(women) will stop trying to get impossible ideals while they are themselves very basic and have little to offer besides warmth on a bed. Til next time, stay sane my friends!
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THE APP OF THE DEVIL LOL

The day of lovers, what a wonderful, warm, love-inspiring name.... if only we were a pair of normal people who did not respond to feelings of disconnection in our relationship by downloading tinder on our phones *sigh*. Welcome to today's post though, read on, that you may be wiser where I was not, and that you may not fall in the same potholes I fell in....

The story begins when we have a mood fight at some point of the evening because I'm feeling unwell and don't get the degree of pampering for the length of time I had envisioned and I end up feeling lonely, bored, restless, and alone.

 They were not wrong when they talked about an idle mind being the devil's workshop, and in the wee hours of the night with sleep still some light years away from me, I get a bright idea. Pick up my phone, and try to resist at the last moment, opening pinterest to look at some crochet ideas in a small effort to occupy my mind. It doesn't really work, the way nothing does when you have sex on your mind, so with a sigh, I open the play store, and start to type.

It seems the universe is plotting with me here, I get the suggestion just after the first letter and click on it, then click 'install' with a kind of anxious hope that my phone does not have enough memory but alas, I did get the extra RAM for moments like this, clever, silly me. At this point I am strangely starting to get sleepy but it's too late now and there's no turning back. So I log in, and get asked to confirm my phone number, but start to get taken round in circles because I didn't pick the facebook option to log in, and I didn't want to because *information theft.....
I have to do this in the end though, and this worsens my already bad mood some more, but I am in, and I have messages, from my past chats, like a year and a half ago. I curiously go through them, stealthily creeping along not to trip any live wires that might be there, but only for a second. I loose the care in a snap and go through the messages, responding to some, ignoring others, swiping left and right on the main page, etc. I get a message and I am rather surprised, it is after all half past one in the morning, and I though it would take a while to get those old gears going. It's a blast from the past, with a VERY randy message, one that makes me look over my shoulder in a mix of fear and childish glee.

Wow....
Do I want to do this really?
I don't feel too sure if this is what I wanted........... So I respond in the positive and it's on, but not for long. Seems my chat-mate is sleepy as he's soon offline, I learn after I doze off myself and wake up to no responses. I get a brief vision of hastily undressing in the throes of passion just to fall asleep before any activities, barking dogs, ha.
Naturally, I awake with some difficulty at some minutes past eight and wonder if my indiscretion is still private.... The notification bar is alive with a million things; twitter, whatsapp, instagram, telegram, text, and of course, tinder. I carry the phone to the living room where he's sat down, we pour the tea and pair it with some sweet potatoes that I regret buying; they are watery and stringy as hell but well whatever.
A child randomly yells outside, another screams, so I go outside to investigate but cannot come to any conclusion with no injuries in sight, I go back to my tea. We have some conversation about nothing in particular amidst sips of tea and screams of babies, and he asks if I will be so kind as to open the gate for him, I agree, and though I catch something there I am not too sure what it is so I
release it.
He leaves, I finish my tea, then pick my phone up from the seat where I left it, and start to clear the notifications one by one, but there are no red flames from tinder any more..... I was sure there were about four when I woke up, or did I open the damn app before going out to look at the yelling kids? I can honestly not remember at all so I let it go, no point losing my mind over something I will know soon enough, one way or another.
Days pass and I guess he's gotten as numb as me, or is playing some strange game so I think ok, I will wait it out and cross that bridge when I come to it.....
Also read it here!
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WHAT GETTING CHEATED ON DOES TO YOU

It's not rocket science that getting cheated on sucks big time. Worse if your shit of a cheat is also gas-lighting you and is a narcissist.
There should be a unit in hospitals for people who get cheated on, and those who get all I've mentioned above done to them, not leaving behind victims of both physical and verbal abuse.
Damn, where did we go so wrong as a species?
Without further ado, here's my analysis of what happens to you when you get cheated on several times; a breakdown of a suffering which I call 'SCD' i.e. Severe Cheat Disorder.

Mentally
I would be lying if I said that I have always been a sunny ray of a girl, but I was not this dark. After the first occurrence of cheating I got in a bad way, and it did not help that I had just had a baby so post natal depression came big time, or just plain depression. I would forget simple things and had a hell of a time performing the simplest of tasks.
To say I was preoccupied is a gross understatement, and it is by the grace of our Creator that I did a halfway decent job of raising that child. I was in a constant state of panic, anxiety, and paranoia; where is he? What is he doing? Did he go back to meet her? Is he thinking of me? Did he ever love me? What could I have done differently to prevent this? Was it my fault? etc etc and it never stopped, not even when he was right there next to me.
My mind was so crowded with these and more nonsense thoughts that I had no more room for creativity; songs I composed effortlessly were now a heavy chore; words I wrote into poems were jumbled and it was a pain to bring them to rhyme and the fabric I had bought by the yard now lay mildewing in my wardrobe.
I lost track of humor and sarcasm and pretty much everything said to me was an attack which brought out the combatant in me. I alternated between confusion and bitterness, assurance of doom and hopelessness all day, every day.
What did she have that I did not? Was he thinking of me-a few days from my due date-while he was with her? Could I ever forgive him? Did I even want to? Did she know about me and how did she see me, as broken as I saw myself, or stupid, or both? It was a full-time job with no pay, and it started to show.

Physically
I started to have messy eating-habits, sometimes eating too much in an absent-minded state, or not eating at all. There was no order or organization to my diet plans, just anything edible would find its way into my mouth. Coupled with the lack of support from him as when I baked it was a bit soggy and when I fried it was too salty and nothing was ever done right by him, I lost interest in cooking, just put things together and put them on the cooker to get it over with.
Fine little wrinkles appeared on my face from dehydration and I wondered if I had always had dark circles under my eyes.
It was hell.
My skin got dry and flaky; lost its natural glow and felt itchy too, with proper moisturization just out of reach for me because I couldn't or wouldn't do anything to fix it. I was so damn tired all the time and my body hurt, kinda like it does when you have malaria, or maybe I did honestly I don't know. I just wished for strength to carry on, thank goodness my baby kept my hands full, and I never once dropped him (thank goodness for real).
I needed serious strength to smile and laugh and generally be around people without letting the vortex inside me suck all the light and love from their midst and I could rarely summon it so I chose to keep to myself as it was easier that way.

Spiritually
Was there really a God out there and if so why did he let things like these happen? But that was unfair, no third party should be blamed for the wrongdoings of any one individual, no matter how closely aligned they are to each other. I did not see the point of giving thanks or being grateful-for what?
It would have been a gift to sleep and not wake up, and I am sad to admit that I thought of suicide for a while. I felt that I owed it to my son to hang in there for another day, if  only to tickle him and see his toothless grin and hear his hearty laugh; it almost made me forget the emptiness in me.
It felt like an insurmountable task to feed my soul with healthy habits like meditation, reading, and exercise. Reminded me of that old blue song whose lyrics went something like 'why does the sun go on shining, why does the sea rush to shore, don't they know it's the end of the world, for you don't love me anymore......' and I felt it on a spiritual level.

Psychologically
I was stressed and my trust levels in him plummeted. I could hardly trust him after the first time, but after the second one I had negative trust left in him if that was possible. He was a literal green snake in the grass and I wondered why it took so long for me to see his true from.
I felt bitter towards him, and started to see him and his friends as one large cartel of shitheads (which they are anyway haha).
The loathing spread to his family and I would draw connections between all their bad habits then damn them collectively because well the same dirty, cheating blood flowed through all of their veins.
It did not matter that I wanted to forgive and make things work for the sake of our young family; I was just on a level of irrevocable anger, even when I had no reason to be.
The plus side is that I developed an a-hole radar, and can now tell from a guy's words and actions whether he was any good or just along for the ride, and I hope this saves me the heartache next time.

It was a tough trip for me because even after I caught him the second time and he confessed and swore that he had called it off, the affair still went on for close to nine months, with me all the while being silly thinking it was over for real and going through life as normal; going home to visit my mum and stay for a few days etc, to which he had no objection whatsoever. It would seem that the good old proverb against confidence tricks works for relationships as well; "when the deal is too good think twice", because love is after all the ripest field for cons of all natures.
No matter how strong, independent, good-looking, wealthy, healthy, intelligent, or anything else you are, getting cheated on is something no one should have to go through because the implications of it can easily last for a lifetime.
For most people, the details are hazy and cloudy at best for memories of their first kiss, their proposal, or even their first born's births, but ask them about a time they got cheated on and you will be equal parts shocked and dismayed at how much detail they can remember surrounding their discovery of the affair. The human brain is simply that; human, and it will emboss on your brain the things that hurt you the most while it blurs the best as if to protect them from being over-scrutinized and consequently ruined.
The moral is simple. Do Not Cheat, no matter the reason or the occasion, just don't do it, because you will succeed in one thing and that is to tie yourself to the worst part of the worst memory of the person you cheat on. If you have desires they cannot satisfy or you just don't love them anymore, do the sensible and grown-up thing and leave.
Also read it here!
                                                             
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