I know, another blog post about marriage. I’m sorry but when you’re a 22 year old African woman, you are constantly asked about marriage. I recently had a conversation with an aunt of mine and this conversation left me confused. This is how the conversation went down—

Aunt: do you have a husband yet? 

Me: no not yet but auntie I’m gradu-

Aunt: no do you have a husband? Are you talking to anyone? Do you want to get married? 

Me: yes aunty, of course, but I’m gradua-

Aunt: You should be married by now. Start talking to someone. 

Me: But I am graduating.

Aunt: Oh really! Congratulations, when are you graduating?

That is it. At this point, I am beyond frustrated. I just wanted to tell her I was graduating. That’s something right? That’s an accomplishment right? Yet, marriage is the biggest accomplishment for an African girl like me. Not to my parents, but to others. I thought about what my aunt said. Did I want marriage? Yes, of course. Did I want marriage now? No, not really.

Although I have seen many of my mates get married, I am happy for them. However, the one thing that gets me are those aunties who like to compare. They tell everyone how you’re not married yet. This always makes me feel ashamed. It makes me feel like I have not accomplished the biggest thing for an African woman. But, in this new world, things are changing for African women like me. The woman has to define what her accomplishments are. Why do we let ‘society’ (meaning us) dictate what our accomplishments should be?

As an African woman, I have my own aspirations and desires. I have my own goals. My aunt had asked me if I wanted to get married. Of course I do. I would love to settle down with the love of my life (note to my future husband reading this, prepare yourself). I want to start my own family. However, I do not think I am ready. When God says that I am ready, things will fall into place for me.

I am not going to lie to you and say I do not care about being asked where my husband is. I do care. When you’re asked multiple times, there’s this pressure. The pressure eventually builds up and causes you to be anxious. Makes you constantly think about your future and how much of a failure you are. But please, to my African women who feel this way, do not let this stop you from doing the things you love and being patient. Do not let this pressure you to rush into marriage. If you really are not ready, that is okay. And if you are ready, that is okay too. Do not let people tell you that you are getting too old for marriage and no one will marry you. It’s bullshit.

So at 22, while I wait for my husband, I will focus on myself.

And to my husband, wherever you are, please come claim me because I am tired of being asked where you are.

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Thank you for reading! 🙂

Writer: Diaka Thiam

• 

I have always wanted to become a published author. Here it is. My first ever book. This book is a collection of most of my poems. I am excited to share this work with you all. Some of the poems I actually performed. I want to thank the people who motivated me to keep writing. I love writing, and I want to continue to share my work.

The Ebook/Kindle version will be published on June 1st on Amazon. You can pre-order it through here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07RXD8GX1

The paperback version is now live and you can get it here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/109926748X/?ref_=aga_h_su_109926748X_title

Please leave a review on Amazon! Your reviews matter to me. Let me know your experiences with my work (your favorite poem?) Also, if you want to, send me a picture of you and your copy of the book! (:

If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to contact me on any of my social media pages or email: deethiam@gmail.com.

Thank you! Happy reading 🙂

I have disappeared. But wait, you have to understand why it has been a while. Your girl had to finish up her degree! Two weeks ago, I graduated with my Bachelors of Arts degree in Psychological and Social Sciences. There was a lot going on in the past 6 months. My main focus last semester were my internship and thesis. I had never been so stressed out, but I made it. When I tell you how proud I am of myself, you probably would not believe me. This blog post is not me trying to brag about all the things I have accomplished in my college career. No. I have been on a long journey for the past four years.

I loved every bit of my college experience. The good and the bad. I loved the only two friends I had my first year in college. I loved that I found my passion in service my second year. I loved that I lost a few friends my junior year. I loved that I had my first love my junior year. I loved that I knew the woman I wanted to become my senior year. With every challenge that came my way, I embraced them. I mean, yes, it was hard at first, but eventually I embraced them. I will never forget the days I kneeled on my bedroom floor begging God to help me. With each tear that came, I kept going. With each downfall, I kept going. It took me years to find my support system. But, one of the main things I will always remember is how much I have grown from my college experience.

And, two weeks ago I received my degree. I had plans of course. Don’t we all? I started looking into jobs for now because I have bigger plans. Yet, I forgot that God’s plan was bigger than mine. I enjoyed my first week as a college graduate and it was the first week of Ramadan. I hung out with my friends and met new people along the way. I realized how unpredictable life was, but that was only because I was watching something about someone’s cause. Someone having to change their life drastically because of how unpredictable life was. I didn’t think the next day, I would be the one with a cause.

You’re probably thinking, “what is she referring to?”

Sunday. On Sunday, I became feverish. Honestly did not know I had a fever. Being the person that I am, I really thought I had caffeine withdrawal. Although it did not make sense. I had the symptoms of a withdrawal, yet I was fine four days without having coffee. A friend of mine told me that I may have had a fever, but as stubborn as I am I did not listen. My head pounded like it never did before. My body was weak as dying a flower. I was cleaning the house, but as I cleaned, I took multiple breaks. I was also fasting at the time, so I thought it was maybe because I was fasting. Throughout that all I did was fall in and out of sleep. When it was time to break fast, I resisted the urge to drink coffee to make me feel better. But, my mom told me to drink a little. So I did. My “caffeine withdrawal” was still not gone. I went to sleep and skipped Suhoor, but still woke up to pray Fajr.

Monday. On Monday morning, I had an interview for a job. I had to prepare for it. When I woke up though, my body failed me. Even after taking a shower, as I sat on my bed, I slept. My mom woke me up asking me if I felt better. She recommended I go to the hospital, but again, as stubborn as I am, I said no. I knew I would not win this fight with my body. I couldn’t. As I sat on my bed, my head feeling like someone threw a brick at it 1000 times, my stomach feeling like someone has stabbed it 2000 times, I lost the fight. I called my brother and asked if he could drive me to the hospital. When I arrived, I told them my symptoms. With tears falling down easily, the nurse looked at me with sympathy. I kind of hated it. They took inside of the ER and I stayed there.

Tuesday. Wednesday. Thursday. All of these days became a blur for me. Constantly laying on the small white hospital bed. Both of my arms with IVs. Unable to eat any foods. Wondering when I would be able to go home. The nurses coming in and out. My doctor and her med students coming in and out. My mom constantly taking care of me.

I had been in the hospitable for five days. There’s more to the story, but I’d rather not bother you with the details. It was a miserable experience. Some days were good, others were bad. Do not worry, I am good now. But why am I sharing this with you? To tell you that life is unpredictable. But you may have known this already. No matter what plans you have, life is unpredictable. I wasn’t the healthiest person in terms of going to the gym, and eating healthy. However, I think I was in an okay shape. And this happened during the month of Ramadan. I am actually grateful that this did happen. When I was younger I would always ask God, “why me?” But this time, I did not ask God that. I asked God to take good care of me, and that his plans were indeed bigger than mine.

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Authors Note: I want to thank those who were there for me through this journey and those who thought of me.

Written by Diaka Thiam

Thank you for reading! (:

I didn’t think I was going to write this post, but here I am typing away. I will not lie to you all and say that I have never dated anyone. Or, that I have never been in a relationship. Please, as we discuss my dating life, let’s not judge? I’m saying this as if it’s bad. It’s really not that bad. As an African Muslim woman, I am not allowed to date. Religiously, yes, I am not allowed. However, my parents, who are strict traditional African parents, do not want me to date. So, this is between you and I. ABEG OF YOU, when you see my parents, please don’t tell them. I, Diaka Thiam, will tell them myself.

I have always been interested in African American men. Wait, let’s back up real quick. Before being interested in African American men, I was interested in white men. But, I grew out of that phase once I started college. Now, my gaze is constantly on African American men. With that being said, my past relationship with my ex has inspired me to write this post. He is African American, and I was his first African girlfriend. While dating, I introduced him to so many things like thiebou djeune (or jollof rice), fattah (I call it senegalese empanadas), Afrobeat music, some Arabic and wolof words, etc. He introduced me to things as well, especially American phrases I didn’t understand. Phrases like ” Yo you cappin.” We learned a lot from each other.

You might be thinking, okay what is it like dating an African girl? It’s a little difficult if the girl has strict parents. Dating my ex was hard for both of us. I remember the first time he came to my house for my little brother’s graduation party. I introduced him to my dad first. We went inside of the living room, and my ex-boyfriend was behind me. My dad was laughing with my uncles about something. I stopped, looked at my dad, and said, “Papa, this is my friend.” My dad’s face dropped as his eyes moved to my ex-boyfriend. He had this mean mugging expression and my ex was shook. Down below you’ll see how it went down.

I think my dad was surprised that I had a guy friend. When I was younger, I used to play with my younger brother’s friends. There was a time I was outside with my brother and a friend of ours. My dad was sitting down outside of my mother’s hair salon, selling G-shocks. He saw me chasing this male friend of ours and then called me. I was about 13 years old when this happened. I will never forget what my dad told me. I approached the table with the G-shocks, and listened as he began to talk. “Ma, do not befriend boys. Do not play with boys, only your brother can do that.” At the time, I did not understand why he was telling me that, but as I got older, I understood. And recently, my mother told me to stop befriending males. Dating an African girl means that you will be introduced as a “friend” to the parents. Not, “Hey ma, this is my boyfriend.” But, it always depends on the girl and how strict her parents are. As you’ve read, even introducing him as my friend was a problem for my parents.

I am now mentally preparing myself to introduce my future husband to my parents. No, I am not getting married right now. However, the sooner I prepare, the better. I’m preparing for if I bring home another African American man and officially introduce him as my boyfriend, instead of my friend. And, I will not lie, I am scared. Both of my parents have told me to not have guy friends, yet I have the coolest guy friends at the moment. I think it’s my parents being overprotective, but I’m 22. I’ve realized that the older I get, the more overprotective they become. It’s not fair to me, but that’s a discussion for another blog post.

Dating when you’re not supposed to can be difficult, which is why I am officially done with that… for now. As I am getting older, I am starting to become cognizant of what I want for myself. For the time being, the focus is on me. And to my ex, if you are reading this, now you know why my dad gave you that dirty look. I am really sorry.

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Writer: Diaka Thiam

Hope you enjoyed this post! Thank you for reading! (:

The smell of hair grease. The harsh texture of the synthetic hair, also known as “horse hair.” The soft black leather seats with a small tear on each of them. The 32″ Samsung television playing the same Nollywood movie. And my mother, sitting behind one of the black leather chairs. Her right fingers holding the strands of synthetic hair, ready to braid the customers hair. Her fingers gripping tightly onto the customers kinky textured dark brown hair. The customer’s soft hiss can be heard. She is wincing in pain, as my mother begins to braid her hair and the synthetic hair together. Her fingers move swiftly until she reaches the end of the synthetic hair.

When I was younger, I loved braiding hair. I did my best to learn how to braid at the age of eleven. I would use the dolls with soft textured hair to practice. I never gave up. There was this passion, that til this day I never knew why I had it. I would practice everyday after school. I would walk to the shop from my middle school, and the excitement rushed through my body, making me walk fast. My mother let me braid the ends of the individuals (single braids). Just as fast as I can walk, I was a fast braider. And, showed off a lot. The customers would tell my mom how fast I was. I tried convincing my mom to let me braid more but she never let me. Others would tell my mom to not let me braid, and let me focus on school. As if, my love for braiding could ever exceed my love for school.

I grew up with the shop. The first shop I was in was where I learned my love for braiding. My love for Nollywood movies. My love for reading and writing. My love for the closeness I had with my mom. But it was also in the first shop, my brother and I fought, I would lose and start crying. I was a wimp. It was in the first shop my little brother would come in with a bruised face after being hit by the bullies in school. It was in the first shop I had my 10th birthday party, with a piñata full of sweets. It was in the first shop, I had my first bag of hot cheetos and fell in love. The first shop.

The second shop wasn’t so bad. But it was in the second shop where my love for braiding started to fade. My mother finally let me braid the full head. Customers started to want me to braid their hair because of how fast I was. I never talked to the customers unless they talked to me. I always had my headphones in listening to the music. I was a tight braider, gripped onto my customers hair to make the braids last longer. Vendors would come by selling African clothes and scarves. There were other vendors who sold Macy’s perfumes for a cheaper price. Then there were the hair vendors called John, Victor, and Michael. My mother would introduce me as her daughter to everyone. I would come into the second shop with my head down. I would sit in the back, either reading a book or watching something on my tablet. It was in the second shop where my relationship with my mother didn’t go so well. It was in the second shop where I considered braiding hair as a job, and my friends would laugh at me. They would tell me that braiding hair wasn’t a real job.

My love for braiding decreased, and I began to dislike it. I disliked how tired I was after braiding someone’s hair. But I pitied my mother even more. As my mother aged, the shop aged as well. Her fingers were no longer as swift as before. People are no longer coming to the professional African braiders. They are now going to YouTube to learn how to do their hair. And, I don’t blame them.

Don’t get me wrong, I still braid today. I continue to do it to help my mom. I also wouldn’t say that the passion isn’t there. It still is. But as I’m getting older, braiding is just something I do. Not something I love to do. But just something I do. However, I will never forget where braiding has gotten me. Those two shops are everything. And these memories that I have will never go away even after my love for braiding is completely gone.

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Written by Diaka Thiam.

Thank you for reading! 🙂

Who was it that said moving on was one of the easiest things to do? No seriously, who was it?

Moving on from any type of relationship is quite interesting. I’ve done it multiple times and let me tell you, the people who are no longer in my life needed to leave. It was time for them to go. But I’m talking about moving on as if it’s an easy process. As if it is baking brownies or solving an algebra equation. No, it’s really not that easy. Moving on from anything is like separating from the things you’re used to, the things you’re attached to, and the things you know. Yet, why do we talk about it as if it’s so damn easy? Why do we go on social media and say, “It’s time to cut all these people. I’m cutting these toxic people out of my life.” HELLOO? This is easier said than done.

Think about it. You’re in a relationship/friendship with someone. They become part of your daily routine. If you’re like me, you become attached to them because you love their company. You love being around them and it gives you this constant high. Yes, it gives you this high. You become so used to this person, you don’t ever pause to think, “what will happen if I lose this person? What will happen if this person leaves me? What will happen if I no longer want this person in my life?” Or maybe you do. However, something then happens which causes you and this person to stop talking to one another. Something causes you to delete this persons number. Something causes you to block this person on all forms of social media (this is not considered to be petty). Something causes these things. And guess what?

You now have to move on.

I am currently in this weird stage of “moving on.” Recently ended a friendship and a relationship. I’m not going to lie, it feels great. Yet, I now have to readjust things in my life. The routine I had with this person is now just a memory. I don’t know how to move on. I thought I did but I think we mistake the moving on process as being easy. In this case, the process of moving on is deleting the person’s number, deleting the pictures of this person, blocking them on all forms of social media, and never talking to them again. To others, this may seem easy but is it really? What do you do with the feelings you had for this person? What happens to all the memories you had with this person?

To me, that’s not the process. I can do all that, yet it doesn’t mean I’ve moved on from this person. We sometimes forget that people come into our lives for a reason. Some come into our lives for a season and others for a long time. I’ve said this before, we learn something from every person that comes into our life, whether our experience with this person is good or bad. Moving on means taking the lessons you’ve learned from this person and using it. Moving on means focusing on the things that really matter now. Moving on means not only readjusting to things, but accepting the change that comes with it. Moving on means constantly reflecting and being aware of your emotions. Sometimes, when people are no longer in our lives, we tend to have this bitterness in our hearts. If you let this bitterness and hatred stay in your heart for a while, it will only get worse.

Someone wise once told me, “Do not make someone your world, make them part of your world.” Make the person a part of your world. I made the mistake of making this person my world. I was lost for a bit without them being in my life but I think I will be okay. I’m accepting the change that comes with ending a friendship and a relationship. You have to be able to give yourself time. Although I may feel lonely now, I’d rather feel this way than to have people who weren’t meant to be in my life stay for long. If they stayed any longer, I wouldn’t be at peace.

For you, moving on could mean something totally different. And that my friend is okay. As long as you are taking care of yourself, and are accepting of change. It’ll be okay. And you may get to a point where you want that person back in your life, but remember the why. Why they left, why you left, and why you had to move on.

I’ll leave you with this quote:

“The truth is, unless you let go, unless you forgive yourself, unless you forgive the situation, unless you realize that the situation is over, you cannot move forward.”– Steve Maraboli

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Written by Diaka Thiam. Thank you for reading! 🙂

Honestly did not know how to begin writing this post. I reflect almost every day and it comes easy but writing this post was a bit difficult. Where do I start? I started with 3 different titles and ended up with the one above. I have learned a lot about myself especially in the past eight months. Here are things I’ve learned:

Give but do not give so much of yourself that you neglect self care– One of the things I learned is that I’m too giving. I give too much of myself to people and that has caused me heartbreaks. I was never careful on who I gave my all to because of acceptance, this wanting of being accepted by people. I had the mindset that if I gave my all to the people in my life, they would give me love and care. But I was wrong. It caused me to isolate myself a lot. To the point where I became lonely even though I had people. I couldn’t tell people in my life what I was going through. I’m not saying do not give, but it’s important to make yourself a priority. It is draining giving your all to people. Before you give your time, love, and care to others, give those things to yourself first. You feel me?

Stop bottling your emotions- I learned that I am terrible at communicating the way I feel (but I been knew this). Usually, I bottle a lot of things up without realizing the self-damage. It’s never healthy to keep things to yourself. One day, you will come to a point where you just feel like crying and you can’t stop. No seriously, you just can’t stop crying. Your emotions are not meant to be withheld and bottled up. They are meant to be expressed. Whenever I had problems with someone in my life, they would never know that I had a problem with them because I never expressed how I felt. That’s horrible, I know. But, I think I am somewhat getting better at communicating the way I feel. It’s a working progress to be honest. But you need to communicate. You need to feel comfortable in telling people how you feel. Most importantly though, do not hold it all in. Let it out from time to time and it is okay to cry, slap someone (actually don’t do this), throw your phone at a wall (don’t do this as well… please), or sit and just breath. Find your support system, the people who are there to listen, hug you or give you food when you’re in pain and hurting.

Whoever is meant to be in your life will be in your life (whether good or bad)- Stop holding on to people that do not want to be in your life. It just brings you down. Take a pair of scissors and cut the string that bonds you and that person. The person who didn’t want to be in your life probably did that for you already. They probably let the string go, now it’s your turn. You know when someone is meant to be in your life. YOU KNOW. People will walk away and you will feel hurt, but you have to let them go. You have to make room for other people to come into your life. But you must also realize that your focus should be on those that are already in your life. Those who really care for you. And, I say whether good or bad because those who are meant to be in your life are not always good, they could be bad as well. They could bring you down constantly and be very toxic, but they are there to teach you lessons and help you grow. However, they are only there for a short period of time. I’m saying this from my own experience.

Life is full of surprises (good and bad)- There have been times when I wanted to give up on a lot of things. Eight months ago, I was put in a situation that I never thought I would be in. Actually, I put myself in that situation. Yeah, I will admit to that. This situation changed the way I think about myself and the people around me. Because I put myself in that situation, I ended up hurt. However, from this situation, I picked myself up and continued with my life. I thought that everything was going to go downhill after the situation but it didn’t. It turned out to be better. During that time, I was receiving recognition for all the hard work I’ve been doing. That recognition reminded me of my true potential. I couldn’t let one situation dictate my life. Life really is full of surprises, you never know what will happen. Yet, it doesn’t mean you give up. You pick yourself back up because eventually you overcome these situations, and you grow.

Love Thyself- When I tell you self love is hard… for others, it comes naturally but for people like me, it’s a struggle. I struggled a lot when it came to loving myself. I would love everyone else but myself. This has caused me to be so hard on myself. Loving yourself is not just about loving your physical characteristics, but it’s about loving EVERYTHAAAAANG about yourself. Your beauty, interests, intelligence, flaws, and other characteristics that define you. Earlier this year, I started putting post it notes on my mirror. Each one has a quote that I wrote when I was at my lowest or at my highest. In one quote, I wrote: “Stop comparing yourself to others. Love yourself.” It’s hard for me because I was always brought down by people closest to me. I let their words take over me without even realizing it until now. Everyday I try to tell myself that I am a good person and a goal of mine is to be a good person. You’re not a narcissist for loving yourself. Anyone who tells you that you are can catch these hands. But I digress.

I learned more things but I think this is enough. I’m grateful for the things I’ve learned these past months. I encourage you to do some self reflecting as well. Thank me later. I’m going to go drink some coffee and binge watch Scandal all over again. Don’t judge me, I am engaging in self care. But I’ll leave you with this:

Thank you for reading. Written by: Diaka Thiam 🙂