Once upon a time there was a man who kept pleading with God to let him win the lottery. Like all good prayerful people he was extremely persistent with this request, right down to the gnashing of the teeth and wearing of sackcloth. God was paying attention of course but eventually could take it no more. One day, as “gnasher” (as he was more popularly known by now) started his wail of the day, God’s voice boomed down from heaven in that way that it does … “ Dude … I’ll let you win BUT could you at least buy a lottery ticket?!!”
The KICC prayer service for single women created quite a buzz. All sorts of questions have been raised and there have been many a debate in bars, homes and salons. Tough philosophical questions like “Does the good Kenyan man exist” as if we were on the hunt for some mystic animal or monster like the Nandi bear. The media have had a field day of course, at our expense, but the ones who really take the cake are our wonderful Kenyan brothers who now believe that they are so special, are such a gift, that only divine intervention will snare them.
Ladies … you can date and even snag whomever you want, when you want. It’s a proven fact. But like “gnasher” what’s the point of wailing about it if you are not participating in the game? You have to buy a ticket! If you think dating is tricky in your 20’s try throwing yourself in the mix when you have tonnes of life experience, kids and dogs.
After my marriage came to an abrupt stop (yes a stop not an end) and I’d worried myself into a frenzy with thoughts of survival and all the usual drivel, my next shock horror moment was the realization that I was now one of them … “a single chic”. The ones I would look at with such pity and smugness as I clung to my (ex) hubbie’s arm back in the married years. Poor them… having to (still) be in the dating scene and all. How the mighty fall. Flash forward and here I was, with kids and dogs in tow, back at square one about to start asking the same questions and dealing with the same insecurities I’d had when I was teenager.
Jumping back into the dating scene is like jumping into a tank of sharks. I was totally out of touch, using all the wrong lingo and listening to a lot of the wrong people. I mean think about it … I was hanging out with single chics in their mid 30’s who hadn’t been married or had long term relationships. Their prognosis was grim and their pep talks depressing. The general conclusion was “there are no good men in Kenya” and here I was thinking I’d get it right 2nd time around??
Cinderella had to go to the ball to meet the Prince and if you try the Sleeping Beauty approach you may be sleeping forever. Bottom line – cowering in the house making random conclusions is not the solution. Roving in packs won’t help much either by the way. Since my return to the tank I have learnt to express myself freely (and sometimes rather loudly), dance hip hop, walk in killer heels for at least 5 minutes, re-discovered makeup and glamour and enjoyed most parts of just meeting men from different walks of life. I’ve learnt that one must invest in meeting that special someone and yes there are many frogs along the way. Whether you kiss them or not is a personal decision. I’m tuning out the negativity and I will not be flustered ….this is my season and I know what I bring to the party.
So buy a ticket … participate … ditch toxic people … and you’ll be amazed by the results.
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Each life is a personal journey no matter how public it may all seem at times! I'm still figuring it out and here I share my journey ...and what I'm discovering along the way.