There was time I do think love was just simple and so pure, but growing up, I found out that love is shaped by ones upbringing, what one has seen/experienced and how one is taught. My parents never really sat me down to teach me about relationships, but in the other way they did without knowing it. I grew up in Nigeria, where love was wrapped in tradition, silence and a whole lot of endurance. My dad was the provider, commander and the strongest, while my mom was the nurturer also soft but unbreakable. Their relationship wasn’t loud with affection, but through actions, meals are served without complaints, respect were shown without question and all. I didn’t think much of it back then and I just thought every home was like that.
As time goes on and I start aging, I get into relationships of my own, and I didn’t even realize how much of my upbringing I had dragged along with me. I found myself believing that love meant giving and giving without asking for much back because that’s what I saw while growing up, that's what my mom did. I do act girlish, maybe that's why I took after my mum and just do give my all. I thought love meant sticking it out, no matter how much it hurt, because that’s what I grew up seeing. Sometimes I’d catch myself doing things even when am hurt and not supposed to blink an eye, still I do do what is expected of me from my own end, and I do wonder why I didn’t speak up when something bothered me, and sometime when I speak up it still does not really change, and most of the times, I do feel guilty for wanting more than just being there and being loyal.
One day, just recently, it hit me, I was just sitting alone, wondering why I felt so drained despite loving someone with my whole heart. I realized I was replaying my mom’s role, always there, always giving, rarely taking, not that I expected same in return, but I need to be seen to, I need to be valued, loved, respected and all, should I beg for it, must I ask for it, is it until I speak out. It made me question why I thought love was meant to be heavy and felt like a burden. I really wanted to break away from that cycle, I want to love and be loved differently, not in a wah that I have to beg and ask for things, not in a way that I have to be the one saying this and that, I really want to love in a way that won't leave me feeling empty. So, I made a conscious effort to unlearn some of those patterns. I learned to prioritize myself without feeling guilty about it. I didn’t want to carry that sort of treatment, that kind of love and silent endurance into my future because I knew it would only leave me feeling unseen and hurt.
Not that I completely reject everything I saw at home. There were the beautiful parts too, theres loyalty, the commitment to family, also the understanding that love sometimes means pushing through difficult times. Its just that I had to learn, I had to learn that pushing through doesn’t mean losing myself in the process, I also had to learn that it’s very much okay to want a love, a love that is very loud with affection and honest with feelings, a love that is beyond mere words of mouth, a love that is acted. And sincerely, it is okay to expect/want that kind love, one that feels good and not one to be endured.
And there are times I wanted to change, just that I fear my kind if change, it won't be good, it might feel as if I never even moved at first, so I did not want to, but also, I do wonder if my parents even knew how much I was soaking in just by watching them, I wonder if they would’ve done things differently had they known I would be carrying bits of their story into my own. I still have moments when I catch myself slipping back into those old patterns, I would just hold back how I feel, thinking I need to prove my love through sacrifice and I will still do things, things that I might later blame myself for doing, all just for love. Starting now, I need to remind myself that I am important too, that I can redefine what love looks like for me personally, that I can choose something softer, more reciprocal and more vulnerable.
Thats it about growing up, we are all human, I think that’s the thing about growing up, we see we are all human, flawed and all just trying our very best. I’m still figuring it out, figuring out how to love without losing myself, how to care without carrying too much, how to honor the good I saw while gently letting go of what doesn’t serve me. It’s not easy, but I’m learning to build my iwn story. Love shouldn’t just be about surviving. It should be about all I have said earlier, it should be about thriving, growing, and feeling seen, that’s the kind of love I want and am fighting for, the one that feels like both freedom and home at once.