Linda here, welcome to our first part of the Brave Women, Unique Tales series. Our first ever guest decided she remain anonymous but we’ll call her Flower. I’m proud of her for sharing her story to the world. The purpose of this series is to create awareness about hormonal imbalance, fertility related conditions and chronic illnesses. Many females and males (this concerns you too men) could be down playing these conditions and the effect they have on our lives. To understand why we are doing this, check here.
Without further ado, Flower is here all weekend, show her some love, ask questions, engage her and most importantly let her story be known so that other women like her and me can get back up from a life we thought was over due to these health conditions.
Flower take it away………
FOR AS LONG AS I CAN REMEMBER (it’s been a part of me that long), I’ve always had irregular periods. At first I didn’t really care about it, one less thing to worry about womanhood. No cramps, no annoying moist feeling down there and certainly no feeling like the entire Niagara Falls was coming out of you when you burst out laughing.When I brought it up casually at any doctors’ appointments (it wouldn’t really be the sole reason for my visits, but I’d sneak it in because WHY NOT? I’m smart like that) the response would be that I’m young and my body would find its natural rhythm eventually.
I WAS OKAY.
IT DIDN’T REALLY AFFECT ME.
THIS WAS OKAY…I HAD MY WHOLE LIFE TO LIVE AND THIS WOULDN’T BE A BIG PART OF IT….RIGHT?…right?
right? *seeks validation from imaginary audience*
The moment it hit me like Simon Cowell hitting the huge red button that is followed by a large red “X” to symbolize rejection on the show “X Factor” was when I joined campus. I started to notice I wasn’t really “normal”. Remember those doctors that promised my period would normalize? Yeah they were wrong.
It got worse and my esteem got lower because I bottled it all up. My period got scarce, I’d get it about twice a year. My flow also got super heavy…pads couldn’t contain it, I’d stain my sheets even when I slept like a log (no seriously, I once googled “how to sleep like a log” and tried to stay in said position all night). It was frustrating to say the least- still is. The salt to my wound was that I had lots of friends but only one out of them shared my condition.
It wasn’t something we really talked about, it wasn’t something people sat around fires and told stories about during camping. It turned into something shameful for me. I would be perceived as less of a woman if anybody knew this side of me ..so I got an empty CocaCola bottle and did what I do best… bottled up all my feelings. (Won first prize in the annual Bootling Up Feelings Olympics that year).
Wow, Anonymous person writing about her story, that must have been tough to live with, the dear reader wonders. Yes, yes it was. It affected my esteem greatly…I had horrible resultant acne that was like a stubborn stain. No matter how hard I tried (and still do) it couldn’t allow my face to breathe. I hated myself. Fell into depression.Hated taking pictures with a flash on, I stopped looking into the mirror. There were nights (and some days…and some afternoons) where I’d cry my eyes out in frustration. It was unbearable.
What made all this worse was that I became my acne. All the good things about me were overshadowed by the acne because it affected me so much. People would say stuff like “oh she looks nice but would look better if it wasn’t for the acne”. I’d be in a good mood,walking with a happy skip in town and get stopped by random people giving me unsolicited advice on skin and telling me to try out “new” things…things that I had already probably tried before as a result of watching thousands of “Get clear skin instantly DIY” youtube videos.
“HaVe yOu TrIed GLyCerine”? *eyeroll* “Drink more water” *as if I don’t already swallow the whole river Nile* “Sister kozesa kano, kajja kuyamba” *eyeroll*. “Have you tried this (extremely bitter) herbal concotion?” All this irritated me and my “leopard print skin” even more. (Oh, btw, H.I also brings gifts with her, mood swings is one of them)
Last year my visits to the doctors became more intentional and specific to my hormonal condition. It clearly wasn’t a casual consultation anymore. The doctor mentioned that I’d have difficulty in conceiving at a later time in life and that crushed me escpecially because I have beautiful nieces that I LOVE TO BITS and I would absolutely love to have kids of my own someday. They just became a reminder of what I could possibly never have in my life. A “kokonyo” of sorts. I got so angry at myself, at my body for being so damn incompetent and at God in general to whom I had prayed severally to heal me. *Cue “GOD WHY ME” and listening to sad depressing music all day phase*
I started to distance myself even further from any men/ attention I was getting from them (not that I had a variety to choose from to begin with), I decided if I stayed alone (with 80 cats) I wouldn’t have to share this tough experience with anyone and they would probably leave me if they found out. I would be a lone ranger! ….aaaaaaaand then I watched “Pretty Woman” for the 100th time in my depression and decided I wanted to be loved and I wanted to be wanted. I wanted to know what that felt like rather than olympic run from my problems like I usually do (Usain Bolt ain’t got nuthin’ on me). I figured the right person (who hasn’t had the pleasure of meeting my awesome ass yet) would love me, flaws and all.
This year I decided to live courageously, to dare to love myself inspite of my flaws because for anyone to love me and vice versa, I’d have to be able to acknowledge my own badassery. I’m a smart, beautiful, stylish, accomplished,witty, beautiful woman with a great taste in music and movies and H.I can no longer hold me captive.
It’s not easy, but I’m taking one day at a time, praying about it, seeking practical solutions because I have heard of people that have been able to beat this.
*IN GOD WE TRUST. WATCH OUT FOR PART 2* *CAST*