Breaking the Cycle 

This story is about two people whom I love so much. 

My love for them started the day my little eyes opened and I saw them. I probably smiled real big. 

My love for them has never dwindled. Or reduced. Despite the fact that I am a disappointment in their eyes. 

I know I am a disappointment. To them. 

They have told me several times. 

Oh no, they don’t go “Noni we are disappointed in you”

It’s more of how they tell me things. And how they act when I tell them things about myself. 

I have been writing since I was 14 and this blog for 4 years now. I don’t know how many times I have asked them to read my poems or my blog posts. They don’t. 

Yet when I join the Writers Guild of Kenya I’m asked

“Have you started writing? ”

“Send me your work okay? ”

But I asked you to read my work.

I’ve been writing. 


I remember I asked her to watch a video on Endometriosis. She said she was busy. I sent it to her a week later and asked her to watch it. She said she was busy. A whole month went by and she didn’t watch it.

And she will complain that I take to many medications and that I need to control my pain. 😢 

It’s okay I tell myself. 

But it’s not. 

Because their rejection and disappointment has hurt me over and over again. 

I don’t know how many times I have cried myself to sleep, or asked myself why I am doing things wrong. 

Being sat down and told how so and so has finished a degree and is making a lot of money, or how so and so is younger than me and is driving a car and is getting married,  or how so and so was on TV. 

The constant comparison to other people, being told how I am not good enough because I haven’t achieved what so and so has achieved. 

Their constant harping on how I should be and who I should be based on a system and culture that isn’t even ours. 

They measure success on how much money one makes and intelligence on the degrees you have.

And I don’t. 

It’s their constant rejection and disappointment that keeps me in an ever tight loop of recurring depression. 

I don’t know why I keep thinking that one day they’ll just stop rejecting who I am. Maybe it’s my hopeful and optimistic soul. Maybe it’s because I love them and we are just bound to not think that those you love will hurt you. 

I was asked if I’d give them a signed copy of any book I’d publish. 

I said no. Because it will probably not be read and I don’t want to go and find it covered in dust and my heart breaks again. 

I’m tired of my heart breaking. 

So I’m breaking the cycle. 

I love them. I really do. 

I just can’t have my heart breaking any longer. 

It’s done. 


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