This week has been a rollercoaster, and today was no different. I went to the beach with my three cousins, hoping for a fun and carefree day. While it started off lighthearted, it turned into something much deeper—literally and emotionally.
We kicked things off with food, expecting grand burgers and huge pieces of chicken. What we got instead? Chickens that looked like they skipped leg day and a burger so tiny it could’ve come from a kid’s menu. We laughed it off—because what else could we do? Food is food, right?
Once we got to the beach, it was everything I hoped for: the sun on my skin, the sound of the waves, and the carefree energy of people enjoying themselves. But I had my own internal battle to face.
The ocean has always been my fear.
I’ve never liked going too deep; the unknown beneath the water has always scared me. But today, I decided to push myself. For the first time ever, I went deeper into the ocean than I thought I could. My heart was racing, but I felt brave. It wasn’t much, but to me, it felt like a breakthrough.
Then reality, as it always does, caught up with us.
One of my cousins had to leave because her babysitter had an emergency and ran off to a wedding. (Yes, a wedding—African life is never boring.) So, we cut our beach day short and headed back.
The rest of the day was spent at my cousin’s mom’s salon. If you’ve ever been around African parents, you already know: errands. Non-stop errands. And somewhere in the middle of all that running around, my thoughts started to take over.
This week, romantic songs have been messing with my head.
I’ve had Reason With Me by Rude Boy, African Queen by 2Baba, Fall In Love by D’banj, and Love You Anyways by Johnny Drille on repeat. Each song pulls me into my own world, a world where I’m imagining my future, my dream life, my love story.
Here’s the thing: my mind keeps drifting to Nigerians. There’s something about the culture, the passion, and the connection I feel through these songs. But then I tell myself it doesn’t have to be a Nigerian. It’s not like I’m planning my life around this thought—it just happens. Still, the back-and-forth gets frustrating. Like, why am I so caught up in this? Why can’t I just focus on what life brings my way?
And that’s not even my biggest struggle.
When I got home, I was greeted by a messy house. I cleaned up, changed into something comfortable, and lay on my bed. That’s when the overthinking hit me like a wave.
Why is dating so hard for me? Why do I feel like I’m not enough? I don’t even have a part-time job yet, and the thought of asking my parents for help scares me. We’re not close—not in the way I wish we were. They’re just “Mom” and “Dad.” We don’t have deep conversations about my future or my feelings.
And then there’s me, feeling lost and wondering if I’ll ever be successful. If I’ll ever feel confident. If I’ll ever be seen the way I want to be seen. The tears came before I could stop them.
But here’s what I’m trying to remind myself: life isn’t perfect, and it’s okay to feel this way.
Today, I faced a fear I’ve had my whole life by stepping into the ocean. It might not seem like much, but to me, it was everything. Tomorrow is Sunday, and I’ll be heading to church. Maybe it’ll help me find some peace. Maybe it won’t. But it’s a new day, and that’s what I’m holding on to.
To anyone reading this who feels stuck like me: you’re not alone. We’ll figure it out. Somehow.
Until next time,
The Dreamer
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