Reflections by Nano

Hi guys J I know it’s weird that I’m writing you a letter when we literally live in the same house. In light of my recent, shameful extra-mural activities, I’m a bit embarrassed to face you guys. I feel terrible for some of the unsavoury things I’ve done under your roof (though I guess it’s technically my roof because I live in my own apartment where I pay rent). Needless to say, I think of you as my parents and feel the need to account for my actions. So it appears I’ve spent the entire long weekend indoors, avoiding bumping into you by chance on my way out or something. I’m quite shocked that I managed to stay away from my favourite bar and didn’t die of thirst or withdrawal (from “the spot” and those delicious and deadly cocktails). Anyway, I digress…the point of this letter is to apologise for my dubious behaviour as of late, and to thank you for respecting my privacy and not marching down here and confronting me. Also, thank you for letting me sleep in your guest...

Today was filled with heart-warming childhood memories. I visited a church in town where my late mother used to take my sister and me when we were in primary school. The overwhelming familiarity that greeted me as I walked through the door alone gnawed at my mind throughout the lengthy though jubilant service. My mom’s spirit was there with me, a part of the boisterous congregation singing songs of praise and surrender. They took me to church with hymns like Umhlobo Wam', Ikhon’ Indawo, Sinomhlobo (if you’ve never heard of iCilongo then I can’t help you) and I sang my little heart out knowing how music was life to my mom. May her soul rest in peace. That woman was fearless, a visionary and a mama bear when it came to protecting her children. So I dedicate today, still in the spirit of celebrating courageous women of note, to Nomathamsanqa Theodorah Xolo, my personal hero and badass sprinter (I just remembered why I love running J ). So today was a good day! We took Ho...

I unlock my apartment door and step outside, and breathe in the cool morning air with him right behind me. The “yummy stranger” I made out with in front of a cheering audience at “the spot” on Sunday night. Yes, I did eventually text him a few days ago, but didn’t expect to see him last night, let alone get freaky with him at my pastor’s house. Yes, I live with my pastors! (Hand on face emoji) I moved in about six months ago when I came back to work in Durban after I had been home in Sheppie for two months, recovering from a nervous breakdown that landed me in hospital. So when I was looking for a place to stay and found that their tenant of seven years was moving out, it seemed like the perfect place to live in peace and spiritual bliss while I try to piece my life together again. My pastors have been like parents to me for over eight years now, even accommodating me for free in their house for a few months when I was “figuring my life out” after dropping out of varsity some yea...

What did I get up to for the rest of the weekend, you ask? After I behaved myself on Friday night and stayed in, I figured I needed to reward myself with a young turn-up on Saturday evening...bad idea! After a long day of house admin and a cancelled waffle date with my girls, I dropped off my clothes at the laundromat and decided to head to my favourite spot and have ONE Caribbean Twist cocktail by myself :-) Lo and behold, as I was ordering my drink at the bar, an old friend who's also a regular at "the spot" sneaks up behind me and with one touch sends incredible chills down my spine. Now, maybe I should mention that I'm very single and not really looking to commit myself to anyone at the moment but I'm open to taking applications😉. So back to "Mr Chills". We greet each other and decide to share a table while we have drinks and a mouth-watering meat platter. I'll be honest, I wasn't really feeling the guy (he's had a crush on me for years...

I’m sitting in bed on a Friday night. Despite the great urge to go out and have a good time as I so often have in the past few weeks, I decided to stay home and reflect. I actually love my own company, but as with a lot of people who are obsessive-compulsive, I can be my own worst enemy. If I’m going to be alone, I better be doing something therapeutic like reading, writing or washing dishes, otherwise I get into my own head and cause havoc with my anxious thoughts. I’m sure a lot of you in your late twenties and early thirties can agree that we don’t need much motivation to start freaking out about ALL of life at any given moment. I don’t think anything really prepares you for this beautifully chaotic and almost life-threatening stage of the human experience. I’m all out of answers, and if anyone is cruising through this season unscathed, PLEASE write a book or a manual for the rest of us who feel overwhelmed and are fighting for our lives daily! As I said earlier, I’ve been going o...