The woman who wasn’t helpful

I’m late on this one but hey, better late than never…

The year was 2014. I was interning at RMH (Rwanda Military Hospital). We (the interns) are introduced to a bacterium, Helicobacter pylori, which infects almost half of the world’s population and is now considered to be the most prevalent infectious disease known to occur in humans. But I had never heard of it before. 

For as long as I could remember, my Dad had suffered from ulcers. So, I always wanted to do some research about gastric pathologies, though I didn’t know which in particular (cause I hadn’t quite understand his condition). And since there’s also a history of ulcers in the family, the bacterium caught my attention. When I finally learned about the bacterium, I talked to him about it. He told me some doctor had requested he get tested for it, and the result came out positive. The doctor then prescribed some antibiotics and that was it. I also realized that it had been years since I last saw him take his meds at night. I was relieved but still interested in the bacterium and learning more about it.

Fast forward to 2016, as a student in my final year, I had to present a research project before I graduated. From the very first time I’d heard of it, I knew that my dissertation was going to be about the bacterium. Hence, picking a research topic wasn’t hard because I’d already found one. I also was unhappy with what I saw on campus (precisely our department) as a growing number of theses were increasingly focusing on the same area, Parasitology (intestinal worms, to be precise). I wanted to do something different from everyone else’s. 

For data collection, ​I applied for permission to collect the data at this institution that I won’t name. Initially, I was told that it would take 3 weeks to get clearance to carry out my research study (after ethics committee reviewed my proposal). After 3 weeks, I was told to wait another 3 weeks. 3 more weeks later, still there was no response. Carrying out a research study demands lots and lots of patience. I finally got clearance after a delay of 4 months (yeah, I’m very patient). You should have seen me exiting the office with the clearance letter.

I immediately went to the pathology department to present the clearance letter. The head of the lab, a woman who wasn’t helpful at all, suggested I come back the following Monday. The following Monday I was there, very early, with my lab coat and PC, very ready to begin my study. But she bounced me back. And for weeks, instead of helping me get what I wanted she kept giving me excuses…“This week is accreditation week, come back next Monday”, “We are very busy right now, come back next Monday”, one Monday morning while walking to her office she saw me sitting in the waiting room and immediately said to me “Not today, come back next Monday”. The world is full of excuses not to help someone (if you are interested), and she was excellent at finding them. 

So, I was hammered with endless and pathetic excuses, but I wasn’t going to give up. Everytime she saw me enter her office, I swear she wanted to punch a hole in her desk. Hehe. I couldn’t understand why she kept tossing me around like a tennis ball. She’d asked for a confidentiality agreement and I’d written, signed and handed it over to her. I had a recommendation letter from my supervisor, a doctor (*and knows with confidentiality). Besides that, I’d clearance from the institution’s ethics committee. What else did she want? Blood of a virgin?! Or did I look like someone coming straight from a deep & isolated village with no Biomedical background at all?! Or maybe I seemed lousy to her, like I’d no notion of medical ethics. Like I would hold a meeting to discuss the data (read: patient records) with all my neighbors. Hehe. 

Or maybe it seemed to her like she would be giving me the country’s top secret files or nuclear weapons launch codes. Haha. We are also bound by medical ethics, mama! I thought that with the clearance, she had no choice but to give me the data. But I was wrong.

After 4 extra months of more excuses and kissing ass, I was running out of time. My supervisor was constantly calling asking for my draft. It was clear to me that I wasn’t going to get the data to complete my thesis. I had no choice but to change the topic and go for another. A much simpler and easier one, since time was catching up with me. I was very discouraged. On a positive note though, I graduated and with decent grades.

Moral of the story: At some point you’ll encounter sadistic mean people. Have the wisdom to know when to fight and when to take a flight. 

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…in a season of epic brokenness

Have you ever had a dream that was so real you almost believed it? I have. My dream captured a problem that I’m facing now. Brokenness. It was a nice dream, because it provided a hopeful solution: MONEY. I was probably coming from the bank, lost in thoughts about my shopping list (remember those times of epic brokenness). Then I glimpsed in my purse and gasped: Holy shit! I saw money in my purse. A closer look revealed 23 notes (of 5000Rwf) and a 100$ note. Hurray! What was I going to do? I could get on a bus and head to town to buy a few things. Or maybe I could go to the saloon for a hair retouch. Yeah, right. But I had not called my hairdresser to schedule an appointment. So, I made an alternative decision. Since the money wasn’t going anywhere (or so I told myself), I decided to go home, reorganize my shopping list sorting out my top priority needs, and come the next day, ready for shopping! Shopping puts me in all the right moods. 

When I got home, I realized that I had no airtime…I went for my purse and guess what?! There was no purse. No purse, no money. The. Money. Was. Gone! Gone, baby, gone! But hoooow? What kind of voodoo magic was that?

As I was trying to figure out what had happened, I awoke. I’d dreamt of a thing I had wanted in a long time, but now it was all gone. It was like a cruel trick waking up and realizing that it was all FAKE! Frustrated, I went back to sleep, patiently waiting for another dream. One with greater illuminative powers, like pointing me to where I’d lost the purse. No luck.

How often do you have cruel dreams like this? Like that guy you like, asks you out. Or the girl you’ve been hitting on for months, finally gives you a chance. Or your boss gives you a raise, after that good presentation you did. Or your scholarship application has been accepted. The list can go on and on. But then, it’s just a dream!

These days, money is the only thing on my mind. My mind keeps screaming “I should be rich!”

And as much as I would like to think of myself, I’m not self-independent. At least not financially. You know, it’s embarrassing that I still have to ask for money from my parents. Or borrow some money (from time to time) from my best friend (thank you Vicki) to complete my art projects. This is a boring life, I know. Being broke is cruel. Not being able to buy that dress or handbag that you saw in a boutique and liked, is also cruel. It makes me want to reply “Not looking at the price tag while shopping” whenever people ask me the “where do you see yourself in X years.” Spending a month without kissing a beer bottle or tasting some brochettes is super cruel, it’s torturing. Not exploring your dreams is a nightmarish way to live. 

I’m so sick of looking in my purse and not seeing money. I’m sick of waking up and not finding money in my bank account.

I should be rich.

But I don’t really know how to be rich. I do picture myself as a rich woman, but I don’t know how to get there. I have pictured myself having an art career, making lots of drawings and art pieces, and owning an art gallery. And making lots of money out of it. But I don’t know how to get there because now it seems like I’m stuck on this level, and I don’t know how to unlock the next level. Well, I sometimes do get sudden outbursts of motivation to go and make my life better. But then after 5 mins, I’m like “Nah, that’s not happening!” Yeah, because I’m an adult now. I don’t run from my problems, I just sit and ignore them like other adults do. Speaking of which, after much research, experimentation and consideration, I have decided that adulthood isn’t for me. Thank you for the opportunity, though. 

I’m still learning how to journey these untraveled roads that I never asked to be tossed onto.

But I really should be rich.

The Plug-in Drug

I’ve been binge-watching House of Cards. I so very much love it. I don’t know why I wasn’t watching it before now. It’s because I watch several series (not just Game of Thrones).

*opens folder to count*

18 TV shows. Well, make them 26…I have to add like 8 more to the ‘to-watch’ list, because I just have to. But with so many TV shows calling for attention these days, you almost need special powers to separate the truly great from the passable. I am on an obsessively ongoing quest to identify the very best TV shows as they come along…Game of Thrones, HTGAWM, House of Cards, Sense8 (idiots cancelled it), Supernatural (even after 12 seasons, I’m still watching it. Yeah, I might have attachment issues), The Vampire Diaries (totally pulls it off for me). Now, I’m way behind on most of them… 

However, I must admit that there are other TV shows (that are just watchable), which I still watch anyway. Well, never underestimate the power of boredom. 

Anyways, binge-watching these TV shows affects my normal functioning. This is the time when I usually make stews for lunch or supper, because if I decide to cook I lose the minutes I’d planned to watch a new episode or movie. When food is ready, I immediately head to my room, switch on the PC and put on my headphones. You see, we live under the flight path of KIA, so some aircrafts fly over screaming above the rooftop that they make it impossible to hear when watching a movie or having a conversation with someone. Either you miss out hearing every other minute. Or you pause, let the plane pass and then resume later. So, I just put on headphones to avoid the disruptions (though I can still hear them through my earphones). 

This is a sad existence, right?

Right.

Speaking of TV shows, I’m not evangelical by nature, but there are lots of underrated TV shows. It’s no fun, but rather sad to watch a gem of a TV show not get the attention that it deserves, it really breaks my heart. Like which one? Glad you asked. I’ve made it my duty to inform everyone (reading this blog) about those shows that I personally feel need a little bit more love. You’ll thank me later.

  1. Orphan Black, a show about human clones. The sestras. I like how Tatiana Maslany portrays the amazing complex clone characters (six clones that get the most screen time and numerous others with smaller roles). Tatiana provides each clone with an individual identity. She slips into their personalities that it is easy to forget that it’s the exact same actress playing all those characters. The layers of acting are unmatched. Orphan Black is a really good show, thumps up from me.
  2. iZombie, a show about a high-functioning zombie, Olivia “Liv” Moore. Liv works at a morgue, helping a detective (Babineaux) solve murders. She does so by eating the deceased’s brain and gets visions of their death. It’s amazing in an often-completely-ridiculous way, but it hurts my soul that more people aren’t watching iZombie. 
  3. Lucifer. If you haven’t watched Lucifer, bye, go watch it. The show is about Lucifer Morningstar a.k.a. the king of hell who (because of boredom), quits his job, abandoning his throne and goes to live in Los Angeles. And with his abilities, he tries to help humanity. But don’t mess with Lucifer.
  4. Limitless. Go watch Brian Finch.

Wait a minute…

Did I mention that I have lots of drawings to make, bags to sew, and lots of books to read? But I never seem to find the time. I don’t read half (honestly, not even a tenth) as many books as I would like to. For instance, I have had this book for over a month but I haven’t read past page 15. Why? For one, you can blame it on the TV shows. Two, every reading position seems to get uncomfortable after 5 minutes, or even too comfortable that I end up falling asleep. Also, reading on a screen isn’t good because it dries up the eyes. So, I do other things instead. But those are just excuses. Bad time management could be just another. I’m really ashamed of myself. I’d like to read more books and practice more art. I really should expand my hobbies. 

I need to do something about it.

Maybe after watching this new episode.

This little screen is evil, I’m telling you. 

I Have A Story…

Today I have a story to tell. A true story. An ugly story, not a fairy tale.

Yesterday morning, I woke up in a jolly mood. The previous night, I had had a salad and I had the best dreams. My bed is comfortable and safe that I slip inside it and minutes later I’m in dreamland. That night I dreamt about one good friend of mine whom I miss so very much. The dream was vivid and more exciting than my real life. I woke up missing him ten-fold that I wanted to holla at him. Unfortunately, I lost his number (well I got his number. Thanks for asking).

Through the window, I could see the sun replace the moon. The morning that comes too early, wondering why my time with bae has been cut short, yet again. As I tossed and turned in my bed, I sighed. I just didn’t want to leave my bed (but is it just my bed that gets extra comfy in the morning, or?) And I miss my friend. By nature, I am a sensitive person and I feel many things on a way deeper level. Yeah, I am a weird person…keep moving. Thank you. 

So, I had plans with Vicki, to go shopping (what would I do without my Vicki?) and later attend a wedding. I went to her place. However, I should have called her before heading there because what happened after arriving at her place was in a word, AGONIZING!

There were kids playing in the compound. 5 or 7 kids. One of the kids, a cute little boy, told me that Tantine is not there. Whaaat? Maybe she went to the shops? Maybe she went to buy airtime? That’s what I thought. I got my phone and tried to call her…but I’d no credit on my phone! Aaaarrggh! 

As I was fidgeting with my phone, buying airtime, another girl approached me and told me (again) that Tantine is not there. I ask her whether Tantine had told her where she went, to which she obviously replied “No” (what was I even thinking asking her that anyway?) Finally, minutes later I talk to Vicki and she tells me she’s on her way. I just had to wait.
I sat quietly by the doorstep, enjoying Vit D, waiting… 

“Is Tantine your friend?” the boy asks me.

“Yes, she is”

“She’s our friend too. She brings us biscuits” he says as he goes to join the others.

The girl comes back abruptly, and asks me why I’m still there, why I haven’t left yet *rolls eyes*…she was starting to get my damn nerves. They all were. 

I was getting super bored. So, I played music on the iPod.
The girl came back, sat next to me, and asked to listen to what I was listening to. Then she asked me to lend it to her.

“NO!” I replied instantly.

Off she went. I wore my gloomy face to scare them off…and I thought it was over. But minutes later, every kid wanted to listen from my earphones. And they almost tore apart my earphones.

And that was it. They were driving me up the wall. I closed my eyes, counted to ten, took a deep breath, grabbed my bag and walked away. I went and stood by the roadside, waiting for Vicki…

Minutes later Vicki came and we went back to her place. And we didn’t go to the wedding.

Fast forward to 6 PM, we were heading to town for shopping. Buses take longer to get there and it was getting late, so we took motorbikes. It was beginning to drizzle. But the intermittent drizzle was little and didn’t spoil our shopping. And before heading back home, Vicki gave me some money that I kept in my purse. When I reached home, I looked for the money to buy airtime but it was gone! I don’t know how. The note must have fallen from the purse, but I didn’t notice it. I then asked for some money (from Mom) and I sent the househelp to buy me airtime. And guess what? The airtime was sent to another number. To a wrong number. Yeah, great!

I woke up feeling red hot but went to bed feeling like I was in a deep freeze.

I’m in the business of being awesome and the business is good.

You lied to me and let me pour myself into you. I loved you. Always will. I fell in love, watched it grow, watched it change, and watched it fall apart. I stretched my heart for you but you bruised it. I hoped to find love but instead I found a beautiful disaster. Whatever we had (for lack of a better term) was built on a strong foundation of (my) delusion and (your) lies. I knew how crappy it was, but I couldn’t bring myself to walking out (damn comfort zone!) because you are/were the king of mixed signals. Every time I was starting to close the door, you knocked with the I LOVE YOUs, I NEED YOUs, I MISS YOUs and I would let you in. My worst fear in relationships is not knowing whether someone will hurt me or not. But you did. 
You not only did not love me back, you were pursuing a relationship with another girl you really saw a future with. And you also cheated, but didn’t have the balls to tell me or try to work it out so you just put her photo on your profile, in the hopes that I would ask about her (dear God…) I inevitably found out the truth (about the cheating)… I was utterly heartbroken and overcame with grief that I just wanted to crawl into a hole and stay hidden there. 

There are thousands of ways to get your heart broken; but, none are worse than getting cheated on. To be honest, cheating is something I never condoned nor even understood. I couldn’t understand how someone who said he loved me could treat me like how you did. I was inconsolable for weeks. It threw my heart off balance. Cheating is the worst. I thought I was smart, beautiful, caring, loving, a great partner…but then you threw me to the side as if I were garbage, and there I was, wondering if I was as great of a catch as I thought I was. I thought something was wrong with me and that’s a shitty feeling. How the hell did you even sleep at night? 

Heads up guys: we are not fragile dolls. You can tell us the truth, we can take it.

You disappointed me once again (when you suddenly fell off the radar yet I needed your help). I called for hours (that turned into days) but you didn’t return none of my calls. I texted you a zillion times, nothing. That was going to be the last time you would let me down. We were friends (at least I thought so). You were one of my closest friends, if not the closest. We laughed about things completely mundane. You meant everything to me. But that time I realized that I had been wrong on the friend part, it wasn’t real. Suddenly that perfect perception of you was tainted. And thanks to that, I now see you without your masks. I now see you as someone whom NOT to call when things go rotten.

You sent texts days later, but I didn’t reply. You kept sending texts and seemed not to understand why I never replied to any of them. Why would I? So that you could lie to me again? So that you could say “sorry”? To be blunt, I just hoped what was left of your conscience pained you to such a degree that the only way to relieve the pressure was to come clean. I’d gotten tired of your coward intentions. I stopped trying to understand why you couldn’t be authentic. Besides, one doesn’t need to warn anyone when cutting them off, they just do it silently and peacefully. Even though it was hard, I finally did it…cold, clean and remorseless. It’s very okay to walk away from someone/something that hurts you. No blame or justification, you just stop fanning the flames. I cut you off because it was necessary, not just because I wanted revenge. I vowed not to repeat my mistake again. I didn’t (and still don’t) want to compromise myself like I did before, because I’m better off without the thought of when you will run off without notice. I’ve promised to never put myself in a situation where I don’t know where I stand in someone’s life again, where I feel unsteady and unloved.

Sometimes one can’t really see the damage until they force themselves out of the situation. I’ve worked so hard to finally love myself and to believe that I’m deserving of happiness and love. I no longer toy around relationships where someone hurts me over and over again because they value their own comfort above my happiness. I know how to be by myself, I know how to enjoy my own company. I’m not angry. Neither do I hate you. However, I don’t care about you the same way anymore, because you hurt me. Really badly. And you know this. Rather I hate your hypocrisy. I hate your lies. Lies that you kept feeding me till you sent me to a painful place that I wanted to run away from, but couldn’t because one doesn’t get to run from oneself. Rather, I sat in the pain, cried about it and prayed about it. There’s no exit route for pain. I started from there, accepted it, built myself again, replenished myself after you’d took so much from me, nurtured myself and grew from there. I still continue to recover from the pain. My heart is still healing, and a part of it is still going to have that scar from giving all of me to someone who didn’t want it. 

I’m so glad that we broke up and that you didn’t make up your mind to come back when I was still waiting for you. For that I thank God all the time because, there is no delicate way to put this so I am just going to say it: you were a bad guy. But you helped me in the end. I may have lost you but I gained back myself and all my self-respect I had lost with you. You helped me see what I don’t want in a partner. Some things that happen to you and you realize later that it was because God needed to use you for the benefit of others and for your own happiness. It was necessary to hurt to have learned what I learned. I learned that sometimes you have to experience what it means not to be loved in order to know what love is when you finally find it.

There’s a misconception that people who are/have been hurt, end up hurting other people. People who use their pain to give others pain. Heartbreak is inevitable and we are all hurting in one way or another but not all of us are out to hurt others. Just because your heart is broken, doesn’t mean you have to break someone’s heart too since you’re too immature to know out what to do with it. Because having had my heart broken, I learned to forgive. But I can never forget how a broken heart feels.
I’ve been through enough to trust my gut instinct and to stick with it. I trust my intuition will lead me to light. Most of all, I trust myself enough to know that I wouldn’t choose to be with someone who doesn’t deserve me, again. I still love, but I love myself more. And I’m still very much afraid of pain but I’m not afraid of being vulnerable.

After the heartbreak, I was a broken girl with trust issues. A girl who needed to learn how to love herself. A girl who hadn’t yet let go of the wrong person she was holding onto. I hadn’t forgiven you. But was that the hill I wanted to die on? No! Today, as I write this, I have forgiven you because there’s no longer room in my heart for that kind of baggage. Life’s too short to carry such a burden. I know that I am complete, without my partner. I recognize my flaws and pledge to work hard on taking my flaws with strength and to be comfortable in my own skin.

The happy ending of my story is that getting over you (who never shared my love) felt like having a blindfold removed. I suddenly saw all the love I’d had this whole time. I am grateful. Nobody healed my heartache. I sat with it and was able to fix myself on my own. And I realized that real love comes first from within, not from anyone else. Today, I am so much stronger, wiser and so much more certain of myself. I am now watering my own garden, blooming where I have been planted and loving it. I love me. There’s no glorious revenge than living your best life.

Though I’ve endured pain, overcome heartbreaking experiences and I’m scared of letting someone in, I won’t close myself off completely. I’m allowing myself to be led by hope. I’m in the business of being awesome and the business is good.

Fuck the Past

At any given moment, you have the power to say: this is not how the story is going to end

~ Christine Mason Miller

Have you ever made a mistake you thought was terrible that you simply couldn’t forgive yourself? A mistake you thought was so bad that you sunk into depression? A mistake that made you wonder silently if you’re not probably the stupidest person alive?
Well, here is my story…

I was in this relationship for almost 4 years. Though he said that he loved me, his actions proved otherwise. But I continued to see the relationship for what it could be, rather than what it actually was: toxic. There were lots of things that I thought I could ignore or shove under the carpet. Then he hurt me, on purpose. He cheated intentionally. I, on the other hand, not knowing better, kept wondering silently what lacked in the relationship that gave room for such betrayal. Perhaps love is truly blind.

Despite it taking me months, I came to terms with reality that it wasn’t much of a relationship, at all. It was just a fantasy world created from his half assed efforts, with a strong foundation in delusion. It was entirely unsatisfactory! I used to think that I was never good enough for him. I was constantly coming second to dozens of other girls. I thought I was the main chick, but I was being played. I was led on, for almost 4 years. I thought he shared my love for him. Then the cheating happened and photos on his social media accounts broadcast the fun they were having, status updates said what was on his mind or announced his availability, commitment or something in between. When I questioned him about it, he quickly pulled them down and denied it! Hehe. I kept quiet but I’d seen everything! I tried harder than anything to forget that but I couldn’t. He made me feel completely worthless. He emotionally ruined me. However, I finally realized that it wasn’t me not being good enough for him. And these words have resonated with me for some time now. 

Later, I was overcome by shame. How could I be so stupid? Why did I tolerate such behavior? Why did I allow all that to happen? This terrible feeling continued. Flashing before my eyes, I saw all the opportunities I had to walk away, but I had chosen the other way. I would be so close to getting out, but he would call or text, and I would blow it again. I would fail myself again. The logical-side knew the truth long ago, but the emotional-side nearly destroyed it. Sure, emotions keep one from being cold and cruel. But they can also cloud vision and enable scum to try to create a mess.

After walking in and out of the door so many times, he taught me to lock the door. The hardest and saddest part was to stop fighting and just walk away. But then I thought why should I be sad? I had lost someone who didn’t love me but he had lost someone who loved him, genuinely. Not only was I done investing my time in him, I also cut him off completely and burned down the damn bridge, instead of running around absorbing and forgiving everything. Sometimes, you got to be cold to show people that you were being loving (and understanding) the entire time.

Looking back, now, I wonder how I even tolerated such unhealthy behavior. No matter how hard I tried to forgive myself, I continued to beat myself up for this. I couldn’t shake off the feeling. Even after the break up (for lack of a better term), I continued to experience shame and self-loathing thoughts. But you know when you’re dealing with a person who did you wrong/hurt you, you can choose to forgive, release the hurt, and maybe not maintain contact with them anymore. But with yourself? That’s not even an option. You don’t get to quit or walk away from yourself. No!

Fortunately however, one day it gets better. You wake up and you’re not angry or sad anymore. And there’s no explanation or reason why. It just happens like that.

I can’t go back in time and fix it. However, I can recover from the mistake, learn from it, forgive myself and move on with my life. Because having had my heart broken, I learned to forgive but I can never forget how a broken heart feels. I’m learning to be selfish with me and with my time. I don’t want to reconcile with him. I want to forgive myself for not knowing better. To forgive myself for all the pain that I’ve caused myself. For not loving myself enough. I am constantly reminding myself that I deserve better than the distorted perception of love that was handed to me on a tarnished platter. 

The experience has changed me. It made me a better person. It made me stronger and more discerning. I learned the dangers of not putting myself first and not loving myself enough. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be loved in a way you feel you deserve. I deserve better than being ignored and taken for granted, I deserve better than being manipulated. I deserve God’s best for my life and nothing less. Simply because I’m worth it. I am thankful for the opportunity to grow in these ways. I celebrate who I have become because of my past mistakes.

I’m happy now

My New Favorite Thing To Do

My name is Angela and I’m an artist (not the regular kind though). I’m also a Biomedical Laboratory Sciences graduate, an aspiring chef, a meat-lover and a procrastinator. But this post is for another story. A story about my new favorite thing to do.

Last Tuesday I washed one of my denim pants. While washing them, I noticed that they had started to give away at critical areas (read: the bum). Since they’re not really wearable any more but the denim is still good, I thought “How can I reuse the good bits of denim?”

I remembered seeing denim bags at campus. I googled and found some tutorials and that was it. I couldn’t wait for it to dry and put it to good use. Once dry, I cut off the upper part across crotch area (I’ll make a bag out of that, later) and used the leg parts. With the help of the tutorials, I made a small purse (the first one).

I was quite surprised I could sew like this, I thought it would come out with some ugly zig-zag patterns. I loved it.

Yesterday, I made another purse using a small piece of a kitenge fabric and some denim. I took a zipper off an old bag. I was quite pleased with the purse as well, because for a beginner like me, it’s not so bad. I worked on it till 3:34 AM today.

However, it needs some minor adjuments here and there. 

I want to learn sewing (not just sewing for fun) and how to use a sewing machine because the struggle of using a needle to sew is very real…my fingers are hurting since last night. And I intend on sewing my own clothes in the future. To be my own fashion designer.

Watch this space…