This week's playlist is filled with mood music to get those creative/productive juices flowing. Hope you like.
I pray that your week will be amazing and everything the Lord wants it to be (which is amazing)
Have you guys been enjoying the playlist? I hope so!
Let's get right onto the review...
Hey there, beautiful people, here's what I am listening to this week. I think you'll enjoy the playlist (you know, since I have such an unparalleled taste in music, hehe)
Have a fun week!
Being an adult is putting the leftover pot of food in the fridge because you can’t come and kill yourself.
Being an adult is leaving dishes in the sink overnight.
Being an adult is sometimes sleeping with makeup on.
Being an adult is dozing off on the toilet seat.
Being an adult is going to the washing machine to find your clothes almost dry because you forgot them in there.
Being an adult is going to the dryer to find your clothes cool because you forgot them in there.
Being an adult is not remembering if you turned the dryer on.
Being an adult is spending hours in traffic listening to a Spotify playlist that makes no sense.
Being an adult is realizing that the playlist radio makes more sense than the playlist itself.
Being an adult is an experience.
Being an adult is an experience I am grateful for.
Being an adult is an experience I am determined to consciously and presently enjoy.
You trudge into a gathering of Nigerians (so either a church or a party*), trailing behind your Mama-popular mother.
Suddenly, she looks to the right and wonders aloud, "Is that not Bola Eleko?" Before you know what is happening, she has changed direction and you are rapidly approaching a table of strangers. You get to the table and then begin your own wondering, "Who at this table qualifies as Uncle/Aunty? Do I just curtsy for everyone? Or should I just form omo America and say hi to everyone?"
When we were 12, every woman who was old enough to wear a full face of makeup and carry her own purse was Aunty. And every guy who was old enough to have broad shoulders and facial hair was Uncle.
A decade later, the rules are not so simple anymore. Now that we are now agbalagba*** ourselves, who qualifies as Aunty and Uncle to us?
The people we've been calling Aunty and Uncle since we were 12 don't count. They've been grandfathered in.
But how about the cousins that you are meeting for the first time? Or that family friend who you've only spoken to once?
Some people use age difference as a guideline, but how-in-the-heck am I supposed to know your age if we met 5 minutes ago? The whole thing is just wahala.
If you have thoughts, please drop 'em below. I'd like to know
* If you know, you know. You know?
**agbalagba - Yoruba word for adult
I know it's been said a million times, but here it is again for the million-and-oneth (million-and-first?!) time:
Don't live your life to please people. Don't make your life choices based on "what would people say."
First of all, it is not worth it. Second of all, it is not even possible.
People don't know what they want. Today, they think it is cool that you are the first person of color to marry into British royalty. Tomorrow, they think you are an upstart "black woman" who is trying to rise above her station and steal their beloved prince away.
People have unreasonable expectations. They are fickle. How they feel about you is not based on what you do, it is based on how they feel.
So, Duchess Meghan , if you ever read this, I hope you are happy. I hope you are thriving. I hope you are proud of who you have become.
I hope you are all God created you to be.
Picture sourced: https://www.vanityfair.com/style/2020/01/prince-harry-meghan-markle-canadian-holiday-photo
My name is Ronke.
I wonder if my Nigerian name would be so hard to pronounce if it was European.
If my five-lettered Nigerian name were a name like Konoplyanka or Vrsaljko or Przemysław, I wonder if that would make it easier for my fellow Americans to pronounce it correctly.
Maybe they would take on the necessary accent to pronounce my name correctly. Even if that means pronouncing 'j' as a 'y' or something. Maybe they would do anything. Anything to make sure that my name sounded the same way it does in the language it comes from.
Maybe they wouldn't pause every time they had to read my name as if it was a complex mathematics equation that defied solution.
Maybe they would roll the 'r' and accentuate the 'e,' so that it actually sounds like the name I was given at my christening.
Maybe I wouldn't have to listen for every variation of my name to make sure I don't miss my turn to go up for a class presentation, or heaven forbid, my diploma at graduation.
Maybe my family in the audience at my graduation would not have to listen more intently than others so they don't miss when the announcer inadvertently mumbles and fumbles through my name.
Maybe they wouldn't give me a silly nickname that makes every one, but me, laugh.
Maybe they would actually try.
Maybe I wouldn't have to produce an English name so it is easier on them.
Maybe I wouldn't have to learn to respond to an English name outside and a Nigerian name inside.
Maybe I wouldn't have to smile and say "it's okay" when they can't pronounce a five-letter-word.
Maybe I wouldn't have to smile politely to ease their discomfort.
Maybe they would actually try.
Say my name. Say my freakin' name.
Don't be afraid to let go and just let God.
I assure you, the earth will not fall off its axis because you decided to rest in the LORD.
He's got the earth, and you, safely cradled in His Hands. Isaiah 49:15, 40:12
Quick note: RAD playlist content changes every week.