Sunshine Blogger Award

Four years ago, before I got into law school, I had gotten into this very confusing phase in my life where I couldn’t quite decide what path I was supposed to choose. See, I’ve always loved writing and at the time I had only started my blog…so it was all so exciting and I couldn’t imagine my life without blogging.

On the other hand, I had to get into law school… that again was a dream I’d always had. Ultimately, I had to make the ‘dreaded’ choice, and for all those who’ve been stopping by, it’s clearly evident I kinda put blogging on hold.

For the last couple of years since then, I haven’t been blogging much, and I really thank you all for being so patient with me, especially on various occasions where my replies to some of your comments came in weeks later…

With all that going on, you can imagine how pleasantly surprised I was, when I saw this notification from Lauren about being nominated for a Sunshine Blogger Award, on a post I’d written about finishing law school. I felt like I was being welcomed back into this very vast and beautiful blogosphere.

Thank you so much Lauren, words are not enough to explain how grateful I am for this nomination. I am truly humbled. Please visit her lovely blog, hello lauren where she writes about her thoughts, musings and stuff…

As a prerequisite to accepting the award, the rules are:

  1. Thank the blogger who nominated you in your blog post and a link back to the blog.
  2. Answering 11 questions that the Blogger asked you.
  3. Nominate 11 new bloggers to receive the awards and write them 11 questions.
  4. List the rules and display the Sunshine blogger award logo in your post on your blog.

So here goes…

Answers to Lauren’s Questions

  • What is your favourite song and why?

Over time I’ve had very many favourite songs because it depends on the lyrics, tune and overall, the emotional state I’m in at the time. In light of this, my current favourite is Ed Sheeran’s ballad, ‘Perfect’. Since the first time I heard it, I’ve just been replaying it. The lyrics are beautiful, and that, combined with the slow beat tugs at my heartstrings. The other day I went searching for the lyrics and I discovered it’s Ed’s dedication to his fiancée and that made me love it even more because, speaking from a girl’s perspective, if a guy sang such beautiful words to me, I just might love him till the end of time.

  • What made you start blogging?

Long before I started blogging, I was still writing about my personal experiences and my opinion pieces which were based on other people’s experiences. Only difference was that I was writing on a journal, which only my two sisters had access to. Then over time I realised I could use some of my experiences to motivate other people. Sometimes when we’re going through difficult moments we feel like we’re alone and the crisis is only unique to us. It’s only after sharing our experiences with others that we realise there are many more people going through similar predicaments. That’s what inspired me to start blogging; so I could help others realise they are not alone…

  • What emotions fuel your writing?

Basically all emotions inspire my writing; when I’m happy I’ll write about it so I don’t forget it… kinda like immortalising the happy moment… However, given that I started writing as a way of relieving my mind off stressful thoughts, I tend to write more when I’m sad because I find it awfully therapeutic.

  • What was an instance in which writing was therapeutic for you?

I could think of so many instances… However, the one time writing really saved me from falling into depression, was the period after I finished high school. At the time I was in that phase where almost every teenager feels misunderstood by their parent (s). I used to argue with them pretty much about everything and given my introverted nature, I kept to myself a lot. Slowly, I realised the sadness was clogging my mind, so I started writing… emptying my thoughts on paper. Sometimes I’d do it crying and when I was done I’d feel very relieved.

  • If you had one wish, what would it be?

I would wish for war to cease in all nations… for all people to live in harmony, irrespective of our innate differences and varying opinions on everything under the sun…

  • What is your favourite movie, and why?

That’s a tricky one… I’ve watched several movies, most of which I loved. Interestingly, there’s this one movie which has left a mark I would almost describe as ‘indelible’ on my heart. A couple of years ago I watched Cinderella, starring Lilly James and Richard Madden. When I sat down to watch the movie I was thinking, ‘duh, this is just another Cinderella movie, whose storyline is so obvious. However, as the scenes unfolded, I realized this one wasn’t the typical story. This had a moral lesson: that no matter the situation one finds themselves in, however harsh, they should be courageous and kind. That was a ‘take home’ point for me… and the ‘Lavender’s Blue’ song was the cherry on top… it was really beautiful.

  • Star Trek or Star Wars and why?

At the moment, none of the above… because I haven’t watched either. Lol…

  • What are your hobbies/interests?

I have a couple of hobbies… I love inline skating, but due to ‘incessant’ school work, I haven’t had much time for outdoor activities these past couple of years… However since I recently finished law school I’m developing this new love for billiards and bowling. My all-time favourites are writing, reading, singing and dancing.

  • What makes you tick, lights a fire under you?

I love making people happy, so if I can do something, no matter how small, I’ll do it … One of the major things in life that really tugs at my heartstrings is people’s suffering so I’m always trying to do whatever I can to alleviate their suffering.

  • What is the one thing you could not live without?

I’m not sure God qualifies to be categorised as ‘thing’, but in the years I’ve lived, I know without a shadow of a doubt, that He’s the one thing I can never go even for a nanosecond without. He’s my all in all.

  • Who makes up your support system?

Emotionally, my mom and two sisters have been my constant tower of strength. Sometimes I find myself down, but their love always gives me the strength to push on.

Here are my nominees:

  1. Karinasussanto
  2. Dailyrant01
  3. Betweenthelines2017blog
  4. Thisbeautifullife826
  5. Paymansperspective
  6. prishla
  7. purplerays
  8. shubhangirawat
  9. eyesstraightahead
  10. perfectingpru
  11. Lookingforthelight.blog

 

Questions for my nominees:

  1. How did you come up with the title of your blog?
  2. What would you take to a desert island, and why?
  3. What’s your dream holiday destination, and why?
  4. If you could change one thing in the world, what would it be?
  5. What’s the greatest lesson you’ve learned in life, whether from your own personal experience, or from someone else’s?
  6. If you had an encounter with your younger self, what would you tell them?
  7. What makes you happy?
  8. What’s the one thing you wish people knew about you?
  9. Who would you like to meet in person, dead or alive?
  10. Who/what inspires you most?
  11. Do you have a favourite quote/personal mantra?

Happy Blogging!

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War, a dream thief: Part 2

The fourth interviewee was a youthful rapper. He explained to the two boys reporting what rap is, since they had never heard of it before. Rolling his jumper’s sleeves up, he explained that someone should be free and at ease. When they got the drift, he asked them if they wanted to join in and he taught them a few lines.

Much later in the interview, the rapper performed, joined by the boys, a young girl, who was also a reporter and another young man who sung the chorus. The lyrics were sad because they talked about how no one would pay attention to the music with the ongoing war. Their background only accentuated their plight. They were standing in what seemed to be the remains of what was once a huge building before it collapsed; and, one could barely see the floor beneath them as it was all covered by debris. It was an ominous scene.

The two boys visited a children’s ward in a nearby hospital. If it weren’t for the fact that the wounded occupants of the beds were manifestly young, the first impression one got was that the patients were soldiers who’d been injured during battle.

One patient was a young boy. He explained to the two young brothers that he’d undergone 13 surgeries: 11 to reconstruct his arm and 2 on his thigh. When asked whether he was afraid of airstrikes, he reflexively bended his knees, bringing them up to his chest. He said he was so scared of them that every time he heard them he would cover his ears with his hands. It’s not so hard to understand why he was so petrified… he lost his brother in one of the attacks.

Another boy showed an extensive scar right across the middle of his head, explaining that a flying shard cut him so he had to be stitched up. The scar left a hairless patch on his head. Right next to him was a girl crouched on her wheel chair. She couldn’t walk because her leg was in a cast. Furthermore, she stretched her hand, revealing a missing finger. My heart ached…

As I looked at those children, all I could see was helplessness… how callous the world could be. These were fledgling human beings, who had so much potential… but all their dreams seemed to be going up in smoke… they were not even assured of seeing the next minute, with the constant airstrikes.

The boys’ next stop was a refugee camp. People there were living in very unsanitary conditions after being left homeless by the airstrikes. The children there were not even going to school. It was horrible. Bad as the situation was in Yemen generally, the two brothers realised they were living in much better conditions because they still had a home.

A four year old girl was the last interviewee. She was seated on a swing that was suspended on a tree branch. She was alone, looking so forlorn, which is not typical of a child who’s out playing. The two young brothers were in the company of a girl, who I imagined couldn’t be older than ten. She carried a big beige teddy bear under her arm.

When they got to the little girl, the older girl gave her the teddy bear, just to pep her up. Her interview tugged at my heart strings most. When asked where she lived, she pointed her finger toward the direction of a pile of rubble. Every one of her family members had been killed in the missile attack.

Hidden War in Yemen

She took the three reporters to the debris, showing them what were once her mom’s clothes and cooking pots. One got the feeling she was still trying to comprehend what had happened. Though she was not crying, she seemed robotic, which was very ‘unchildlike’… the war had done that to her.

When asked whether she had anyone to play with, she shook her head, saying she had been waiting for her little brother to grow up. She explained his baby brother had also been killed. The reporters, curious to know how she had survived, she explained to them that she had been out there on the same swing when the missile hit their house. That’s how she narrowly escaped.

She further explained that before her dad died, she heard him calling out, “Nadia”. That was her mom. After everything had calmed down, she went to check what had happened and she saw her mom’s hand dangling from the debris. I was moved to tears.

This four year old girl had, in her very short life, been through what most people only see in horror movies. Her uncle had taken her in… however, after such a traumatic ordeal, I can almost bet life will never be the same for her, no matter how much love and comfort her uncle affords her.

In my very humble opinion, no person, leave alone a child, should have to go through such a traumatic experience, especially taking into consideration that the situation could be avoided. The war in Yemen is not a natural disaster that cannot be prevented.

Most of us take peace for granted. We go to bed at night and wake up to the beautiful sound of birds chirping… however, what I saw in that documentary made me realise that peace is a blessing. The people in Yemen barely sleep, and when they do, they are woken up by deafening explosions. Some never make it out of their houses alive…

When I’m feeling down, the hope of achieving my dreams keeps me psyched up and I get the strength to push on. So it was heart-wrenching to see so many dreams go up in smoke… people were not feeling motivated enough to do things that made them happy, because just as the satirical writer said, it was impossible to be happy when they were surrounded by death.

War, a dream thief: Part 1

Children should be given the space to grow; and playing is a huge part of that. Additionally, as they grow up, they should be encouraged to dream; because truth is, a child can be anything they set their hearts and minds on. This is what every child requires… an environment where their dreams are nurtured.

But imagine this: a world where a child is happily riding on his bike, and as he enjoys the cool breeze on his face, a missile hits a nearby building, sending shards of glasses into the air. Some shards fly right into his head, injuring him severely.

In pain and panicking, the child cycles back home, trying to save dear life. He’s almost out of breath…When he gets back home, he finds a pile of debris where their beautiful home once stood. Death is in the air… Horror-struck, he jumps off his bike rushing towards the rubble… hoping to find at least a family member… but as he slowly realises, when the house caved in, it came down on everyone who was inside, killing them all. He’s all alone now, in the big scary world…

Sounds horrifying, right? Well there’s this documentary I watched on Deutcshe Welle News last week. It was highlighting the plight of civilians in Yemen, and their experiences were harrowing. It had me thinking, most of the time we take peace for granted…

In the documentary, the reporters were two young boys, possibly around the ages of ten and seven. They were interviewing some people, asking them if they wanted to send a video message to the European Union, to request them to help avert the war in Yemen.

War in yemen

The first interviewee was a woman, branded “Miss War”. When asked about the origin of her name, she explained that there’s usually a photo of her where she’s carrying a bundle of firewood on her head, holding it in place with one hand. In the other hand she’s seen holding a yellow water jerrycan. She depicted the resilience of the Yemeni woman.

The second interviewee was a satirical writer, who said he doesn’t write anymore because it is hard to make jokes when people are surrounded by death. His young son, who seemed six or seven joined him. The two young reporters asked him if he was afraid of the constant bombings, and he said he was not afraid anymore, explaining that where they used to live before was far much worse. So now he’s sort of used to it.

The dad explained further that he has a bike, which he rides even when there are ongoing bomb blasts. Whilst admiring the boy’s courage, I couldn’t help pitying him; he’s gotten accustomed to the feeling of imminent death, that could rob him of his family and everything else he holds dear; including his own life.

That reminded me how much I hated watching news when I was a child, because they brought stories of various places ravaged by war… and that was just too much grief for my fragile mind to absorb. Sadly, these children were living in the actual war, their surroundings, so macabre… and they couldn’t escape it…

In his video message to the EU, the satirical writer was filmed dribbling a football. He said that in Yemen there are good people who’ve been caught up in the war and who are losing their lives every day. Furthermore, he said that Yemen is made up of three things: people, earth and history… But with the ongoing war, it’s losing all of the three and if the war doesn’t cease, there will be nothing left.

The person taking the video panned their surrounding; there were many collapsed buildings around them, plus there was this massive hole on one part of the tarmacked road. The scene seemed like it was cut from an Avengers movie, where the city’s destroyed after a gruelling battle between the superheroes and an almost invincible villain of the piece.

The satirical writer further said that Yemen needed theatres and stadiums. These to him were uniting factors, where people could come together and have fun instead of turning against each other. Asked, by the two young reporters what the cause of the war was, he said no one knew exactly. Even the attackers did not know why they were slaying people.

The third interviewee was a female painter. Most of her paintings were images of the bombings and their casualties. One of them was an eleven year old girl. She was lying on the ground, dead. The painter explained to the two boys that the young girl was heading to school, where she had an exam at eight, when a missile hit a nearby building. Some flying shard hit her, injuring her fatally.

My heart bled for that young girl… maybe she was nervous about having to sit an exam, but at the back of her head, she was encouraged by the thought that she was edging closer to achieving her dreams… she could have been anything she wanted to be…but just like that, her life was ended prematurely. And worst part is, the one who fired that missile might never even know what they did… they killed an innocent child…to them, she’ll just be part of the huge, unidentified collateral damage.

 

Of finishing law school and dreaded goodbyes: Part 2

That evening I teared up all the way home. When my small sis opened the door she noticed how puffy my eyes were. “Did someone hurt you?” She turned my face sideways, scrutinizing it for slap marks or something of the sort. “I’m gonna cut a b*@!h,” she cursed. She was too concerned I might have gotten hurt to notice what I was carrying. Then I laughed, and she relaxed a bit.

Stealthily, I placed the gift bag on the nearest couch and thankfully, she headed to the kitchen to check on the food. A while later, my big sis came and I told them what had happened. By then the tears had stopped, though I could tell it wouldn’t take much for them to start again, since that sluice-gate had been officially opened.

Their reactions when they saw my portrait were not so different from mine. Though they didn’t cry, I could tell they were as moved as I was. “You have amazing classmates,” my big sis remarked. “Now we forgive them, for everything they put you through”.

Like I had told my classmates earlier, being nice is a choice we constantly make, even when we find ourselves pushed to the corner. Serving my class for four years had not been an easy task. Sometimes I had to deal with malevolent lecturers, and sometimes, it was just some difficult colleagues giving me a hard time…sometimes I came so close to throwing in the towel… and my family was there to see me through the motions.

One of the gifts I received was a custom made ‘thank you’ card. It had thank you notes from several colleagues and as I read the sweet messages, the tears that were already welling up in my eyes started flowing again. My class had made me feel so appreciated on such a grand scale… and the feeling was inexplicable.

I’ve gifted people severally, and I know how much time and effort it takes to find the perfect gift. One has to understand someone’s tastes, and preferences… and my classmates did that for me. That thought made me feel like I’d never stop crying.

“We gave you that portrait, so that everytime you look at it, you’ll remember how awesome you are,” my friend who had organised the surprise had told me. I knew I would never be able to thank them enough… and that saying about family, ‘Family’s not always blood. It’s the people in your life who make you feel loved and cherished’, came to mind… from law school, I had also acquired a new family. I went there, not knowing anyone, except for one friend, who was the school’s student leader… and as I left, I knew hundreds of students, who were now my family. I sincerely felt blessed.

The last few classes before we went to sit our final exams felt like our last bonding moments, and I couldn’t help the wave of nostalgia that engulfed me. I’ve always hated goodbyes… and after the surprise my classmates had treated me to, I knew when the time finally came, I would have the hardest of times saying goodbye to these people who I’d spent the last four years of my life with. Thankfully I had exams to keep my mind preoccupied, so I never got much time to think about the looming goodbye.

Eventually, we sat our last paper, but before we did, guys were reminded to hang around for a while because we were going to have a cake fest. Our professor, whose paper we had last, was invited and as he was about to cut the cake, he requested that I join him and my co-rep. Guys clapped and cheered, and as they dug in, that sad feeling that this would be the last time we were gathered in one class together hit me…

There was so much cake, and on a normal day I would have had a ball eating to my fill; however, nostalgia capped my appetite… I just had a tiny piece. Eventually, my friends and I left… on my way back home, I knew I should be happy that I had finished ‘the’ law school.

The workload over the years had been intense. I didn’t have a social life, and almost all my Christmases I spent reading… so this was an achievement to triumph over… Nonetheless, my feelings seemed to suggest the contrary. I felt happy and sad… excited and anxious… and the ‘not so happy’ feelings felt dominant.

The morning after, didn’t feel any different. I was still feeling pretty nostalgic. When I checked my phone, I found a very sweet text from my co-rep. He has never been the mushy type, so getting such a text from him, wasn’t an ordinary occurrence. He was thanking me for always having his back… his sentiments tugged at my heartstrings and I got all mushy. But I wasn’t gonna cry again… I cautioned myself.

When I checked my email, I found another sentimental mail from this classmate who was very quiet and laidback. He was also thanking me for making their life in law school simpler…before I could talk myself out of tearing up, tears were already flowing down my cheeks. That is how Saturday ended… with my classmates calling, texting and sending mail to thank me for being the best class president ever.

One thing I told one of my friends when he texted me was that, it’s true what they say, ‘Kindness begets kindness’. Therefore, if my classmates felt I was so humble and kind, it’s because they had been kind to me. I simply gave back, what they gave me.

So now that I’m done with Law school, I thank God profoundly, for the four years I’ve been there. Other than the legal knowledge I’ve acquired, I’ve made friends… acquired a whole new family… and above all, I have learned first-hand, the value of kindness and humility…

Of finishing law school and dreaded goodbyes: Part 1

These past couple of years I have been chasing after my law degree. It has been a real rollercoaster of emotions; anger, excitement and desperation, especially when trying to beat extremely tight deadlines. It has been a real struggle. However, last week Friday marked the end of all that, since I sat my last exam.

That said, these past few weeks have been very nostalgic for me. I have been interacting with the same people, most of whom have become my very close friends, for four long years. So it would go without saying that having to part ways with them was not the best of feelings. When my mind was not too preoccupied with the exam revision, I would find myself dreading the thought of having to say goodbye, when we finally sat our final paper.

Interestingly, the weeks leading to the finals didn’t make the looming goodbye less nostalgic. A week before we started our exams, my classmates decided to surprise me. A few days before, one of my friends requested to take my pic, explaining that she was creating an autograph book… sort of a personal year book. Hesitating, I accepted telling her how much I wanted to see the book when it was ready.

A couple of days later after class, the same friend made a quick announcement that guys shouldn’t leave just yet. At the time I didn’t know what was happening… so I watched as she made her way to the front of the class, a big gift bag in hand.

By then the entire class was watching, obviously with a touch of dramatic irony as I figured out later, since everyone was in on it. My friend proceeded to request me to step forward, which I did. A frown creased my forehead, my eyes a little squinted, as I tried to comprehend what was going on. Thankfully I found out a few seconds later.

As it turned out, the class had decided to express their gratitude for the role I had served as the class president since first year. I had not seen that coming, and the emotions that came with the realization were overwhelming.

Since I was elected class president, I did everything in my power to help anyone who needed my assistance. I didn’t ask for reward or any form of gratitude because deep down I felt very happy knowing I was helping someone. To me, the thought of seeing others happy made whatever sacrifices I had to make feel all worth it.

Therefore when I realized what my classmates were doing, the first thing that came to mind was how unnecessary it all was. I did not want them to feel like they owed me anything because every little thing I did, I did without expecting anything in return.

After giving a brief speech, my friend reached for the gift bag which she had placed on the floor, and she pulled out a gift that was nicely wrapped and handed it to me. At that point I had started getting really mushy and I could tell it wasn’t going to be long before my tears started… before I could open it, some classmates came, hugging me and telling me thank you.

However, majority of the class insisted I open the gift first, so I started unwrapping it. I could tell it was either a big photo frame, or a book… As I tore the last of the wrapper, guys went quiet… I figured everyone was eager to see my reaction. When I managed to open the gift, the first thing I saw was the back part of what seemed like a picture frame… just as I had guessed.

But lo, and behold! When I upturned it, the tears I had tried so hard to hold back gushed over my cheeks. Right in front of me, was a portrait of me… and the million thoughts triggered by that very personalised gift had me crying nicely… and at that point I didn’t care to stop them anymore. This was the same photo my friend had requested to take… only that someone had used it to make a pencil portrait of me…

My mind remotely registered people clapping and cheering; and before I could get over the surprise, guys were hugging and handing me more gifts. I think that was the best surprise of my life. After the first three gifts I stopped opening them. It was all so surreal.

Then when I had received all the gifts, I was asked to give a brief speech. It was all impromptu but I just spoke from my heart… “This was really unnecessary, because I have never expected anything in return. You usually say I’m so nice, but in all honesty, being nice is not always easy. It’s a choice we make. And with me, my desire has always been to make people happy… to make people’s lives easy in my own small way. Thank you so much. May God bless you all, so so much.”

My close friends were asked by some classmates to ensure I got home safe… and with everything intact. That only made me cry some more… Funny thing is that, a few days before, I’d been telling my two closest friends how I hate crying in public… guess I’d spoken too soon.

 

5th Blog Anniversary

A couple of days ago, I woke up with this funny feeling that I had forgotten something important. However, much as I tried to remember, nothing of significance came to my mind. I figured it was something about a special date; so I started a simple elimination process: my small sister’s birthday – check; mother’s day – check…

I looked at the date to see if I had forgotten a friend’s birthday, and still… nothing. Frustrated, I stopped trying. I reckoned if it was something important it would come to me eventually. I was right in deed. Some minutes later, it dawned on me; my blog’s 5th anniversary had just gone by, unacknowledged. I felt guilty for forgetting such an important thing.

Granted, I’ve been so busy with school work now that I’m literally counting weeks before I finish law school. Nonetheless, I still faulted myself for forgetting it. So now, about two weeks since my blog’s anniversary (8th May), I thought it’s better late than never. Therefore, today, I celebrate this blog’s 5th anniversary.

And what better way to do it than to celebrate every single person, who in one way or another, has helped keep this blog alive. I thank you all for always stopping by to read my posts. I am immensely grateful for your patience and understanding… especially when  I take ages to reply to your comments. It’s never intentional really. In all honesty, I usually feel so bad about it but when I’m so tied up with pressing deadlines, I find myself without much of an option.

This blog wouldn’t have survived this long without you all. I am profoundly grateful. I celebrate you all today. Thank you!

I would also like to take this opportunity to acknowledge my dear friend Melinda. We met on this vast blogosphere and she’s really encouraged and inspired me on a very personal note. She’s been through so much in life and somehow, I draw strength from her resilience. God bless you so much M!

So as I celebrate another milestone in my life, I say THANK YOU! Memoirs of aly (the way I see it) wouldn’t be alive today without you all. I send you all so many warm hugs.

Happy blogging!

 

Kissing Frogs

‘So many frogs you’ll kiss before you eventually find a prince’. That’s a cliché I’ve been hearing since forever. Growing up, I loved reading stories, so it kinda goes without saying that the Princess and the frog is one of those delightful fairy tales I read. In a nutshell, the moral of the story is that in trying to find a good thing, a good partner for instance, one will bump into undesirable versions first. I hold this assertion true.

The other day I was talking with a friend about how tricky it is to find a good guy/girl nowadays. My contention was that sex has become the primary threshold in relationships, where two people jump in bed so casually without necessarily having an informed understanding of each other’s background.

Speaking from a lady’s perspective, I find that nowadays it is almost impossible to talk with someone one could be attracted to (currently or much later), without the issue of sex springing up. From most of my interactions with guys, I find that on average most of them will bring it up within the first or second day of meeting.

Some will hint at it subtly, while the daring ones will just jump in with both feet… That’s why, in my very humble opinion, it is very easy to roll in the hay with a new acquaintance, whose names we might not even remember/know…

The problem with this approach is that so many important prerequisites are overlooked. For instance, if one wants to have a meaningful relationship, a firm foundation needs to be laid. And essentially, this would be friendship. The way I see it, a lasting relationship is one where two people have taken time to know each other.

This is even more advisable because in the quest to know the other person, their undesirable traits might be spotted earlier so one can cut loose and ran for the hills before it’s too late. However, starting off a potential relationship in bed with someone is like putting a cart before the horse. There might be a few exceptions where such relations lead to a lasting relationship. However, from what I’ve gathered, in most cases such relationships are usually short-lived.

So in my opinion, humdrum as it may be, when it comes to matters relationships, it might be preferable to go with the tested conventional way of getting to know each other before jumping each other’s bones.

My friend’s contention on the other hand, was that girls have become so materialistic, that it becomes awfully difficult for a young man who’s not yet established to find love. They want guys who drive posh cars and live in fancy houses, rock designer wear; so if a guy can’t afford all these, dating becomes a herculean task.

He gave me a few examples of some nasty encounters he’s had with girls and I actually found myself sympathising with him. Finding love shouldn’t be that hard. In my bid to comfort him, I told him he was going to kiss a couple of frogs before he finally found his special someone… and he light-heartedly asked me how many frogs we were talking about.

“These sayings mislead people”, he told me. His argument was, someone might go out with so many people they don’t like, hoping they will find their prince (ss), who actually might never come. I’m cognisant of the fact that when it comes to love, not everyone is lucky; so some people settle for partners they might not have chosen if they had a choice.

Nonetheless, I told him I did not find the particular saying misleading as it was attempting to give some sort of heads-up about the rough road one might find themselves on in their quest to find love. From my own experience, I would advise someone not to be afraid of kissing ‘frogs’. They will come in many shapes and sizes, but if someone is willing to learn, they will notice that these frogs will help them treasure their true love when they finally pop up.

Personally, what I’ve learned from kissing frogs is that if you never hang out with the wrong guys/girls, you might never truly appreciate your Mr/Ms Right. This is because, if you don’t go out enough and meet the wrong people, you might never realise just how flawed people are because truth is, no one is perfect. Mr/Ms perfect will not be perfect either.

Difference is that, by seeing other people’s faults, you’ll realise what flaws you can put up with and the ones you can’t. Mr/Ms right’s flaws will be ones you can live with. Furthermore, the wrong people will also help you realise how being treated right feels like.

This is because, whereas the ‘frogs’ will be with you for the various benefits/value you add to their lives, the right one will acknowledge your worth and treat you as a desired treasure. They will love you for who you are; and, handle you with care and utmost respect because they also know that good things don’t come easy.

In short, get to know someone first because that way it will be easier to identify the things you don’t like about them before things get too complicated; and before you invest so much in a relationship that is bound to fail sooner than later.