The ex and things like that

This week has been insane. It’s the third week of the year, and it feels like it’s gone on forever. I bumped into an Ex in town and ignored him – completely. I’d like to poof him off the face of the earth, but he did do one thing for me – he fathered my baby girl. For that, I am grateful. Beyond that, riswa!


A lot of emotions are prompted when I see or mention him. Usually, it’s murderous rage, and I felt that for some nanoseconds. But then I just walked past and went on with my day. It’s sad that people who made a baby can be like that, but ish happens, and I’m cool with it. Dirty water and bridges and *insert-appropriate-cliché*

I admit that I’m the *child* who doesn’t speak to her exes. Grown women have more sensible reactions, like torching their cars or pretending to be friendly.

*Real* women actually are friendly. In that sense, I’m only half real. I can have conversations with my other exes; conversations that involve genuine smiles and nutcrackers. To my other exes, I can actually be nice, though I do forget their birthdays. Mostly on purpose. But not this one. I’m not that grown up yet. I still want to hurt him and make him not exist. I still want him to just go away, poof, vamoose son of a…

When I got home, I thought about my latest ex, the one I’m not yet over. I wondered … if I saw him on the street, would I say hi? Would I pretend I hadn’t seen him? We haven’t talked in weeks, so I’m not sure what I’d do.

I don’t want to pretend. I like too much for that. So I did a stupid thing. I called him. I wanted him to come over. I thought we could just talk and clear things up. The trouble with this boy is he’s too easy to talk to. I end up telling him stuff I shouldn’t. Like how I almost called last night, but decided against the booty call. Instead, we talked on gmail.


[Yay for not calling, boo for the confession!]

So anyway, I talked, he listened, I ranted and threw tantrums, he stayed calm and gave advice. My eyes were red, my hanky was soaked, and I was glad he couldn’t see me. I wondered if he knew that I was crying. It was a pretty rough time for me, and I logged off mid-sentence. I just couldn’t take anymore.

I told him I wanted to lock my heart away and become an ice queen who doesn’t feel anything. I want a mask, so no one can see the real me. I want to smile with the world and learn surface talk  so no one knows my heart. If they can’t see it, they can’t hurt it.

I pride myself in being real and genuine, but now, I want to play games like everyone else. I want to show them what I want them to see … instead of what I am. I want to keep them away completely. I went to bed deciding I had killed my feelings – for everyone – but I was glad we’d talked, because now, at least I can say hi on the street.

Today … and part of yesterday, I listened to Mike Dooley and laughed, because I’m full of crap. The audio gave me an exercise. It said to write three things I love about life, three things I love about myself, and three lessons I want to learn in life. Guess what was high on the list…

Stop being jealous and insecure.

If that doesn’t scream relationship, I don’t know what does. A heart like mine can’t be switched off. There’s way too much love in it. I can’t just chill the vibe. Besides, my blogging is based on TMI. Going ice queen would totally kill that. Crud.

I’m clearly still searching for my soulmate, even if I don’t believe it anymore, and as soon as I’m ready, I’ll find the one who makes my heart sing. Again. Until then, I’m a married lesbian. Period.

♫ Get out alive ♫ Three days grace ♫

Life imitating art: Hinder and Rihanna vs Mya

Nittzsah, a fellow writer over at Diasporadical wrote about the Ushenzi/Ungwana campaign. It’s a series of adverts on Kenyan TV which aims to change social behaviour.

In one advert, a girl drops an ice cream cup on the floor in a busy street, and doesn’t bother to pick it up. She then giggles derisively at the council worker that does. In another ad, a taxi driver argues with his wife because he has found a purse with a lot of money, and decides to return it to its owner.

I find the ads amusing and entertaining, but I don’t know if they actually change anything. After all, I’ve never walked into a soda shop prompted by a Coke ad.

But at some level, these messages do filter through. My daughter insists that I buy Dettol, Lifebuoy, [and Barbie dolls] simply because of ads on TV. She also thinks Scotts Emulsion is cool. Growing up, that stuff was considered the worst form of punishment.

So for kids her age, it’s possible that seeing an honest cab driver on TV would make her less likely to steal.

It’s said that media is the best gauge of a society. It reflects what people are thinking, seeing and doing. But media also seeks to influence our habits, and it’s sometimes hard to tell which is which.

In 2000, a pretty RnB artist named Mya released a song called Case of the Ex. It had an awesome dance video and some pretty clever lyrics. It talks about a girl challenging her man when his Ex calls at 12.00 a.m. She wants to know how he’ll respond now that his Ex wants him back. The tone of the song is angst, and we can tell the girl isn’t amused by this Ex lurking around.

I liked this song because it was catchy. It had a great dance beat, and it spoke to the little pitbull inside me. It felt pretty good to sing  the attitude even though I’m not the kind of girl that will fight over a man.

Five years later, a rock band named Hinder released Lips of an angel. It covers the same theme, but from a guy’s perspective. He’s talking to his Ex, wishing he was with her, while his girl sits blissfully in another room. In this case as well, it an ex-based booty call.

Unlike Mya, this song always makes me cry. It isn’t just the Emo tone and the sad guitars … it’s the whole idea. He sings to his Ex…

… you make it hard to be faithful with lips of an angel.

Every time I hear that line, I get all teary for the new girlfriend who’s clearly being cheated on, emotionally at least. I wonder why he broke up with LadyEx in the first place if she was so awesome, and why he can’t just dump this new girl and get back the old one instead of sneaking around like that.

There are other lines that kill me:

Just knowing that you’re talking to me will start a fight. No, I don’t think she has a clue.

My girl’s in the next room, sometimes I wish it was you. I guess we never really moved on

Poor new girlfriend 🙁

The fact that both these songs hit massively says a lot about society. Often, a song becomes popular because it expresses what many people feel. In the 90s and 2000s, it was okay to stand up for your love. Songs about cheaters and break-ups were largely angry. We had hits like…

  1. Don’t mess with my man – there’s a version by Nivea and one by the girl from En Vogue
  2. How am I supposed to leave you now by Westlife
  3. Why you over there looking at me [while my girl’s standing here] by Ma$e

Later, the trend seems to change. Cheaters become apathetic and helpless, but not necessarily sorry. They realise what they’re doing is wrong, but they don’t plan on stopping. Sample these:

  1. Unfaithful by Rihanna
  2. Dilemma by Nelly and Kelly Rowland
  3. Confessions by Usher

Love has always been complicated, but it gets really sad when the world says it’s ok to eff things up then sing about it.

Songs begin with words, and words and sound are a pretty good way to express emotion  – whether you’re a bitchy ex-girlfriend or a late-night drunk-dialler. And words work best when they’re written down.

I take a lot of things to heart, because words can heal, and they can hurt. I can help you get those words across, though I would rather do it with angst than curl up and cry.

Whether you need a Taylor Swift to put tears on a client’s guitar, a Petey Pablo to get someone to show you the money, or an Ashley Simpson to warn off a jealous girlfriend, I’m the one to say it for you. From ghost writing to love letters to web copy to fan mail, I’m your girl, so call me!