Our love was funny. That’s how I can best describe it. It was sweet, toxic, pure, and needy.

Let me tell you about it. If you already know about this story or were lucky enough to experience my relationship with Griz-, I mean, I can’t think of a better name than the one he used to call himself, so we’re going to settle for my first. Well, he was, but don’t tell him that I lied to him back then so he wouldn’t get big-headed. That dude had a mouth like a hippopotamus. Yep! That is his name. No, no, Hayley, be respectful. I’ll call him Samson—he was very strong for his age back then.

Yes, I did have sex at a young age but if you’ve come this far you may have realised that I viewed myself as an adult. 

So let me continue.

Samson and I started talking when I was 12 years old on Facebook and sometimes in school. My memory of us is a bit blurry in places. So yeah, if you remember the full story, then you probably have my details to text me, enlighten me so I can laugh in shame.

I was a very shy girl when I liked someone. Sis, my heart rate would be on overdrive. I couldn’t form proper words—nothing made sense. I think I started liking him after this Olympic game we went to watch as a school. I think it was swimming or some sort of handball sport.

I liked him, and I got him… for a short while. Then he would be someone else’s and I would be heartbroken. Then he would be back after a while, and then he would be gone. And then I would accept him, just like how I saw the women around me do.

Instead of stopping him from getting access to me, internally, I would find ways to get his attention and better myself for him. Externally, I would degrade him and insult him because I was hurt, and that’s all I knew.

But the love was sweet. I think he was the only one who gave me butterflies that stayed even when we were together. When we kissed, I got butterflies all the way until the day we had to end it.

Even though I have said some mad things already, I’m not making excuses. But when we had our good days—which we really did have for about a year or so—we were really in a vulnerable place separately and together, and I think somehow that made our bond and love for each other stronger (well, I think it did—this is just my side, and men are scary, they will leave you in the desert with no water!). My mother knew we were together and hated it, so there was never any peace, and he had his own drama going on.

 At one point, I truly believed I had found my soulmate, even though our relationship was far from perfect. In hindsight, I can see how deeply influenced I was by the toxic love stories I saw in the media. Growing up, I watched countless African movies where women were expected to endure their partner’s misdeeds—cheating, disrespect, emotional neglect—and somehow, the love story would still end happily ever after. Then the way they portrayed wives/mother. They would look after the children, clean the house, cook, and then come kneel to give food to the husband (Nigerian movies ) who has been at the office and then he would act entitled when something hadn’t been done and he would comment, ‘ All this money I give you’. & the cherry on top is the comments you hear in movies, ‘ If you don’t do it for him another lady will snatch him’. These portrayals became the blueprint for my own relationships.

I found myself accepting toxic behaviours, just as I had seen the women in these films do. I would endure, forgive, and stay, believing that’s what love was supposed to be. But looking back now, I realise just how damaging those unrealistic portrayals were. They taught me to sacrifice myself for the sake of a relationship, and I vowed never to pass that on to my future children. I will not let them grow up believing that love means accepting disrespect. Real love is about mutual respect, trust, and above all, honouring your own boundaries.”

-God May this type of Love pass me like the wind!