#96 || Say Yes To Heaven

Oh no, did I not write last year? It seems I began writing this entry on the 20th of August 2024 at 07:52 but where was I then? Maybe exactly where I am now but everything is completely different. I feel compelled to get a few last words in before the end of 2025, because my heart feels so full and fluttery at the same time but for reasons unlike ever before. Once upon a time I used to wish on any star for everything I have now. So what else is left to wish for other than things that are just so worldly and temporary? Am I allowed to ask for more of what I already have?

Since I last wrote here, the world has changed and sometimes I long for a taste of my old self, a waist disappearing inside a denim waistband, space in my queen bed at night, girl dinners on the sofa and sunrise yoga not having to tiptoe out the door. But if I can remind myself that life is not the chapter I am living in this moment but it's not never going to come again. When she's old enough to understand I want to tell my daughter that when you wish for something you need to include the details, be specific and tell God about every hair on their head and every ray of sunshine and twinkle in the ocean because you may end up with everything you ever wanted but it might not be exactly how you imagined it. What did I used to say? Nothing is as perfect as you can imagine it.

I find myself seeking nostalgia wherever I can, whether it's a playlist from 2018 or writing in a blog I haven't touched in over 2 years. Sometimes it's just remembering people when I have a moment to myself, remembering all the experiences I ever had and remembering that there are so many more to come. 

2026 Wishlist 

1. Find my pink again
2. Fall pregnant (again)
3. Create beautiful memories with my sweet little family
4. Learn how to balance my hormones and feel my best
5. Be brave (for her).

They're my dream come true.

See you in the new year, with so much love,

Afifa x

#95 || MY LOVE MINE ALL MINE ALL MINE ALL MINE MY LOVE

I feel like I am going around in circles in this life, but this time, in my 34th year, I want the dive down into the darkness to be for the last time. Maybe the way that worked for awhile isn't the answer anymore, maybe the answer is to surrender to the half of my new reality that scares me. Maybe it's about letting the inner child that I have protected for so long, grow up and embrace the plummet of this low so that I can ricochet and experience a high unlike any other.

If I can remember the highs of this year, the takeoffs and landings, the reunions and the re-living of moments I didn't think I would ever have again. The wines and the wisdom, the cups of tea and the walks along the beach, falling asleep with my hands in his and the first kiss after midnight by the water in winter - maybe it offsets the self-deprecation that I didn't think I would ever feel again. The repetitive moments of despair and confusion and sadness and despondence, I have never felt as stupid as I do right now. Age doesn't seem to have brought upon any perception, only this superfluous ache in my bottom lung. How do I turn this around?

Hope exists in that this time next year will be strikingly different to this moment right here, right now. If I close my eyes, I can almost feel my fingertips rest on all that it is in my dreams, all that I think I deserve to wish for in this lifetime. If I strip it all down, it's more simple than I could ever imagine. Why do I always feel the need to over-complicate things? 

The love exists in those that stayed, the light shines in the sun and the stars every day and the ocean under the clouds. Look at the sky (no, but really - look again!), that is for you.

Happy birthday Afifa-in-the-sky, you'll be okay. 

 

Love always,

moi. X

#94 || Weird Goodbyes (feat. Bon Iver)

It’s always  circular, these funks. But this recent orbit has taken longer than before, maybe that is why this dip back into depression has taken me by surprise. The wretched insecurity has been hiding in the tension gathered at the base of my neck, between my shoulders and in my hips.  It is all too rare that I marvel at how far I have come, but simultaneously I feel so heartbroken that there is still where I go when I have nowhere left. I go through waves of pride at my perseverance but the more I learn about the world and all of its complexities, I feel ashamed at how I have over-decorated my heartache. But the one thing that is lurking at the back of my mind is how maybe I am assimilating to those around me, it frightens me more than anything. The thought of being boring absolutely petrifies me. I feel like I am disappearing but not how I ever imagined that I would. As I grow older, the more people I meet and stories I hear, I realise how unimpressive I am. Is the answer to accept that fact or to try and change it? The problem right now is that what I want doesn’t align with what I think I should want, so there is always this underlying sense of guilt accompanying me wherever I go and this apologetic feeling for existing and being the way that I am. I’m sorry that I am too quiet, too brash, too dull, too particular. If you could only see inside my head, if you knew how hard I try every single day – I promise I wish I wasn’t this way. How do I stop feeling like I am deceiving the world about the kind of person I truly am?

 

Yet, in my heart of hearts I still believe that this year is going to be extraordinary. In many ways, it already has been. The places I’ve gone and the places I still have yet to go, the one magic moment that I am manifesting that will surmount anything that has ever happened to me, that moment is still waiting to transpire. So if the inability to like myself is truly the only thing that is irking me at the moment, I do want to celebrate all the other hurdles that I have overcome. I had the enormous privilege of reuniting with some kindred spirits earlier this year and creating memories that a year or so ago I thought would never be possible, I visited and re-visited cities that I thought I never would and plan on wanderlusting a whole lot more. The freedom of my life right now is something I don’t want to seem ungrateful for, because even though half a life-time ago I thought I would be somewhere and someone totally different to where and who I am now, it is still for the better and for that, I am so thankful. 

 You are who you choose to be, Afifa-in-the-sky.

#93 || Starry Haze, Crystal Ball

'Take-Off And Landing'

 

Perhaps my grad dip was a big effing waste of time, because I don’t love airplanes anymore. The static, the humming, the sound of wind being mechanically propelled into the atmosphere and wheels thumping against the tarmac are all associated with the souls that abandoned me. I don’t think I think about them individually as often as I used to, over time they’ve merged into an achy blur but it still stings the inner corners of my eyeballs when I let my mind wonder why. Why wasn’t I worthy of rememberance? That feeling of feeling so loved and then it all disappearing in an instant - the epitome of too good to be true. Nothing lasts forever. I used to dream of a heart this hard but now I’m scared it will never be soft again. “I love you” doesn’t sound the same leaving my lips as it did before. It is still sincere but I don’t feel it like I did before, I don’t feel the circumference of my heart tugging in every corner, I don’t feel desperate, and I can’t imagine ever feeling like that again.

My life up until now was derived by daydreams that I turned into reality all by myself, and as spectacular as that sounds, it has been at the cost of a lot of sadness and disappointment. But acknowledging this gives me confidence in plotting my next chapter, because I’ve always made it happen and that is what is so special about me, that is my superpower. I create my own current, I am in control even when it seems like I’m not and I am an entity entirely on my own.

While my heart is hard, it can feel warm and I think a lot of things do make me feel warm, which is equally incredible. It’s the momentary love, free from promise and chagrin, free from betrayal. It is the unspoken I-love-you’s, it’s the ease and comfort of coming home to wash the day away and wake up in my cloud-like bedroom as a new little baby bird.

Did this even make any sense? Watch this space.

XOXO, Afifa

#92 || Emergence-Sea

emergence | ɪˈməːdʒ(ə)ns |
noun [mass noun]
1 the process of becoming visible after being concealed: I misjudged the timing of my emergence.

The ladies in the office tell me about their daughters. As they speak my fingernails press into my palms and I hold my breath, wondering if this is the moment I will be made for the fraud that I am. A quasi-adult smearing concealer on her face with her fingers, before standing in front of her wardrobe trying to figure out what people wear to work on a Monday morning. As they speak of electives and hormones and evening spats before bed, an ache twinges in my heart when I remember being in the thick of adolescence, a phase I’ve never quite managed to escape. Teenage insecurities seem to have followed me into my thirties, finding any excuse to regress to the sullen, solemn little girl and on the bad days, it’s the only thing I feel like I have the potential to be. I murmur my sympathy as I remember my youth, a sentence made unbearable by none-other than myself.

I could describe it like a tamper, depressing my core beliefs into a compact sliver. Every feeling that somehow had to become a secret, simmering at the tip of my tongue, sometimes spilling out under the stars, encouraged by sips of red wine. I don’t remember any instance where I haven’t regretted unlocking the chains of my inner-self, I recall fragments of my heart left woven in the forgotten memories of souls I was foolish enough to believe were kindred. After all these years, I don’t think such a thing exists, I feel condemned to an archive of aquaintances. For the rest of my life.

2022 feels unimpressive, yet I have found this rhythm that is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. It might be my own taste of adulthood :: bills, car keys and wilting leaves of basil in the refridgerator beside cartons of vanilla oat milk and pears that I bought in June. I fall asleep with the television on, the flickering of light from the living room lulling me to dreamtime next to a cold cup of herbal tea. I didn’t think I’d be so lonely all these years later, I thought it was just a phase.

[ i can't believe i haven't written here in over a year. updates: i don't really think about her too much anymore, not like that. i don't really think about anybody very much. REMINDER: everybody leaves, without exception. don't ever forget that, afifa-in-the-sky!!! ]

XX