PS: So we were given a task by Kofo on TLC [The Literary Cafe] whatsapp page and I thought it would be a good idea to do a story of it as well. You can check out similar posts on the Alpha-series on Kofo’s blog here . Enjoy!
“Beginnings are usually very scary and endings are usually very sad but it is everything in between that makes it worth living…”
Acknowledge my presence as I strut into your head with my words. Hello there, I should manage to say…let me introduce myself properly.
Amanda is my name, okay maybe my second name not my first. Daddy called me Oludare a lot but I prefer Amanda – until after he died.
A day before I was born, Mummy said Daddy prayed a lot, a lot for a boy. They had waited 7 years for another child after my sister and they both wanted a boy.
Agreeing not to do a sex scan, they hoped in God’s will and waited patiently till I was born.
Alas, I broke everyone’s heart and turned out to be a girl.
Arrival of a boy or not, a new child was born and day by day, my parents slowly came around to embracing me as the child they needed.
Although, it wasn’t easy for me in the beginning, having to grow up thinking there was a mistake to me, but somehow it prepared me for tougher tasks ahead.
Aspiring to be just like my Daddy and more was everything I could dream of. I needed to make him proud, I needed to make him want me, I needed to make mummy see Daddy in me…it became my daily mantra.
Actions of strength, courage and independence became my daily attitude. There was no room nor time to depend on parents who thought I should have been a boy, even at age 6.
Adolescence passed me by even before I became a teenager. It was pointless having to wonder what it felt like to finally grow two mounds of flesh on my chest region or what it felt like to have a boy kiss you or what it felt like to have the regular Monthly flow or what it felt like to receive flowers and fall in love or what it ever felt like to have a boy just smile at you and melt your heart. That would have been gay for me. I was already a boy from the very start!
Alternatively, I was what you regularly referred to as ‘Tom-boy’. I indulged in swimming and Athletics ranging from Marathons to Sprints to High Jump and the Pole vault. I played the cricket with my Daddy and Lawn tennis with my elder sister. I would have played football as well at junior high but I just did not fit in with all the other macho boys. So I began to work out and tone my muscles a bit. Daddy was excited, I could tell.
At Academics, I was on top of the bright list. I did not waiver in my position, after all there was no negative distraction. I knew I had bigger responsibilites ahead so I put in all my efforts.
Acquintances, I had. Associates, I made but no real friends. Why? Because none could understand me and what the girls cared to talk about were boys, fashion, food and free money. No real challenge of some sort. I hated gossips, so I distanced myself from girls and their prying eyes. Yes, I did have two male friends; Oscar and Martín. They challenged me. They saw me as a fellow. They treated me with equal hands. There was no talk about girls or fashion, only future goals and aspirations.
An Adult I soon became and I felt greatly responsible for all my Daddy’s asset and estate. I was done with College and Masters, distinction in both, yet I felt cheated. Why didn’t I get a scholarship for a Doctorate degree? Was I any less deserving? Daddy and mummy had been proud nontheless but I had a higher standard and goal.
After Daddy put me in charge of administering most of his estates and asset, I thought nothing else could go wrong. With big sis married and two (2) kids of her own, I began to dream of having my own mini family. Problem was, at age 25, I had never been in a single relationship, never given any guy the chance, never thought i’d ever need to, never thought I would need any form of intimacy. I was happy in my own self but now I began to feel lonely, began to need a soft touch of another, began to wonder how my lips would react to being kissed. I cried some times on my bed, knowing I may never get that feeling.
Admitting that I had money was not the problem. I was rich, young and independent. I was smart, strong, Bold and beautiful. That was not my problem as well. My problem? I needed a man. I wanted a man. I was already 28, what was I to do?
Ask the bible said, and you will receive. Oh did I ask? I started asking men out but after a week or two, i’d realize, they were not my type. They had no real value, no sense, no standards…I couldn’t deal.
Allowing myself to wallow in self pity, I soon buried my head into work and forgot about my intimacy cravings. However, several years later it came back. Martín got married and Oscar and myself were obviously in attendance. Best friends of the groom. I felt proud knowing my one true friend was getting married but deep down, my heart began to envy and itch for a soulmate.
Aristo I found myself becoming at age 37. I began to like girls, their lushious curves and shapes and the firm mounds on their chest – something I didn’t have in abundance. I let myself be deflowered by the use of sex-toys and vibrators. The dudes were just not working hard to hold my attention, so I leaned more to being a ‘sugar-auntie’ to the girls I found witty and whimsical.
Auspiciously, I found Christ at age 48 and wondered why I hadn’t thought of becoming a nun. I stopped being a sugar-auntie, I stopped living in nightly puffs of smoke and bath-tubs of alcohol. I stopped living in the fast lane because it only drove me insane and brought me shame & pain.
Adopting kids became my next option but seeing how hard it was, I opened a kiddies-shelter for the abandoned babies and less-privileged. Daddy and mummy gave me all the support I needed. I later realized, I had put too much pressure on myself from the very beginning. I forgave myself and my parents as well.
Answering Natures call, Daddy died at age 106 and 3 months after, mummy followed suit. I didn’t want to be consoled. I didn’t know where else to turn. Daddy left me with so many assets, so many wealth – yet I felt powerless, I felt alone. I had lost a true friend, my confidante.
After-all, I was the boy he never had. My foundation became his kids and mine; bearing his name, my surname. I know he is smiling down at me, I now answer to the name Oludare. Forget the no man thing, I am my own ‘man’ and I am happy with these kids. I look forward to nurturing them in the right manner. Thanks to my sister, I get a few tips now and then.
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