Who is a strong woman?

Who is a strong woman?

• Is it the one who pushes herself beyond her limits just to be termed “strong”?
• Or one whom everyone believes is a superhero but breaks herself in order to accommodate the pretense of maintaining the expectation?
• Or one who doesn’t give a hoot on what people think and decides to do the basic minimum?
• Is it one who refuses help and does everything by herself all in the name of being an independent woman?

This is my journey to the true meaning of strong woman.

Prior to getting married, I was this outspoken, go-getter who loved shopping and reading books. I would shop and buy things at stealer prices but never wear them. It was just to feel a sense of joy seeing them in my closet and knowing I could wear them at any time but na my sister dey always obtain am. I was one who was up for learning new skills at any given time. Sometime in 2009, I signed up for a beginner sewing class. It was a very good class. I was coined Margaret Thatcher by my dad because of my need for perfection and pushy attribute.  I didn’t care for the name but my key focus was strictly on delivery. It’s great to have me on your team but it sucks when i push one for excellent results.

In Nov 2012, I got married. There wasn’t much difference since it was only the two of us and we lived apart for a while. Our jobs were in different states and we were trying to figure out ways to integrate our family. We would go on stay-cation and just travel around the country. All the lovey-dovey things were just shacking us. Young love was fun and sweet. A little over two years of marriage, we welcomed our adorable daughter Z, Z was perfect, the splitting image of my husband. Z’s arrival was a welcomed development because everyone was already praying for the pregnancy and asking my last period details. Our people and unnecessary pressure.  Mtscheeew… No one can ever rush Allah. His timing is always impeccable.

When Z came, I was obsessed with getting everything right. I felt it was my duty to do everything for her. My husband tried to help but I wouldn’t let him. I felt I would be coined a failure, if I stepped back and my need for control didn’t help issues. I was controlled by the thoughts that my mum raised five kids and did it perfectly so why should I complain when I only have one kid?  Shopping was like a luxury. Maternity leave ended at 7 weeks and work resumed full time. I was so grateful that the grandmas took turns during my work hours to babysit for a year. The weekends were never enough to take care of the house, let alone having time for myself. I was always tired and fatigued.

When Z turned 3, we decided to relocate to a different state so we could properly integrate our family. Our family had grown and we needed more space. More space meant more freedom but it also meant more work, more rooms to clean, more toilets to wash and more space to de-clutter. Oh, My Gracious!! I was apprehensive about the move and the extra work I envisioned. I was trying to be an ijebu  superwoman and save money while packing, but I found out that it was impossible moving the house by myself at a certain deadline.

My husband already had something scheduled and he couldn’t help finalize the move. My friend, Seun offered the contact of her cleaning lady. After negotiating, I hired Gloria to clean for $10/hour and she cleaned for a total of 3hrs. Fada lawd! Those 3 hours were eye-opening and jaw-dropping.  Gloria cleaned two restrooms, thoroughly cleaned out the kitchen, swept the basement and did other extra things. She made my life so easy. She didn’t stand around idling and gisting. All 3hrs were used judiciously. Ehn!!! Na how life dey easy bi this.

Why have I  been stressing myself when I could’ve hired her service prior to this day? Of what use is making money if one is reluctant to spend it on oneself? Which kind of nonsense ijebu would allow one spend on others but keep aging exponentially due to stress?

This jogged my memory about an incident that happened two years prior to this. During the second trimester of my pregnancy with Z, our family friends came visiting. They had been friends with my husband for over 10yrs. The couple missed our wedding due to location logistics and requested our wedding album to catch up on the gist of that day. The wife gasped immediately they saw me.

Say What!!! They had the WHAT-THE-HECK expression on their faces added with the WHAT- HAPPENED-TO-YOU  expression. I wasn’t sure if the OMG look was due to the little weight gain (size 4 to size 6), tired lines or the nonchalant dressing. I laughed it off and moved it to the back burner because I had other pressing issues. There was no time to reminisce over this mundane issue.

Everything came back during this move. I promised myself I was going to only do better, treat myself right and take care of my family while doing the basic minimum and not kill myself over the need for perfection. I gave my husband a little breathing room so he could help reduce the burden while keeping my monitoring spirit in check. The Quran also emphasizes the need to apply moderation in all we do. I promised myself I would let my money work for me and not just be a slave to money. I would wear my saved clothes and make myself happy.

Please ask for help from family and friends because this life has no duplicate. It’s important to live it to the fullest. I am taking charge of my life and reintroducing the dreams I had before Z came. I do believe a few people would call me lazy or a braggart but it’s their opinion and It’s not my job to change it. The scheduled house cleaning service has been going as planned and I have my weekends back to DO ME and shop as evident in Need-Versus-Want. Do I see myself a strong woman? Of course, I do. I am strong enough to ask for help and recognize my limits.