A sassy, no chills, guide to my thoughts [you’ll need some ice for this]

Fragile egos, one side. Please. Also, this post goes well with a ton of humor, and if you are challenged, a lot of liquor, and nap in case you’re the aggressive type.

I’ve had this blog idea on a sticky note for months, so today, as I wait for Safaricom Home Fiber to get their life together, I thought I flesh it out and serve you a sassy (some people will say rude) post. I’ve had waaayyy too much fun with this piece! What is a broken filter?

Safaricom, look at you!!!! Si you are bae? Giving me a gift while getting your life together!

“Kwani, you’ll blame everything on bipolar?”

This one, I won’t even bother anymore. It’s 2021; ignorance is not bliss. It’s you choosing to be foolish. Someone’s son asked me, ‘Now you’ll blame it on bipolar?”

I can’t. For someone good at calling out her own BS, I know the difference between bad behavior and my mood going dark. Some think I like being miserable and enjoy the anxiety that comes with it. I mean, it must be fun, right? It’s a lifestyle, ama?

That said, coping is a thing. This is me almost on a daily; “Okay, you have two hours to sulk. That’s enough to meet the deadline.” After the time lapses, I get up and work. We have to make money. Or I decide to take a whole day off. What are deadlines?

“I said what I said”

I have said some dumb things in the past and will continue to do that until death- the human experience. I’m even sure in the afterlife I’ll still have a mouth. When I say something stupid, I will think about it and then come back with my tail tucked between my legs and apologize.

HOWEVER. If I say something and you see me not retracting it, I meant it, and I will die by it, damn the consequences.

“I don’t feel like it.”

“You are foolish.”

“I don’t like your tone.”

“Imagine you won’t talk to me that way.”

“You’re acting like a bitch.”

“No.”

All with a straight face. If I don’t apologize, please take me seriously, take yourself into a corner and ask yourself what you’ve done wrong. And what’s with people, men mostly, thinking that you don’t know what you are saying? I said what I said.

“Excuse me, is you my body?”

Pick up on people’s opinions about you, in the famous words of Nyambura, “Excuse me, is you my body?” Why are you trying to tell me what I feel? Are you a mind and emotion reader to know exactly what emotion I’m experiencing?

Here’s the thing, I grew up with a temper, and yes, it wasn’t pretty. As an adult, I feel I’ve tackled it for the most part. Just as with my demons, when I feel irritated or upset about something, I sit down with it and work through it. Depending on whether it’s a trigger or someone did wrong me, I proceed to have a calm conversation with said person

However, if I am angry at you, you will know. Don’t tell me I am irrational, rude, or otherwise. Again, is you my body? Are you the one feeling what I am feeling? Were you with me when I concluded that you, not me, is the problem?

Sidebar: Mum and I have come a long way. I told her I was angry about something, and she’s like, “Anger is good.” Who are you, and what have you done with my religious African mother? LOL!

“I heard you; I just disagree with you”

Imagine I can have a differing opinion, and you don’t have to abuse me. The sons out here in these streets! Heh, that is a blog for another day. For real, though, what’s that about? Like a woman can’t disagree with a man; you have to be onboard; otherwise, you’re the problem. Over the years, I’ve seen men’s fragile ego at play because I am outspoken and don’t like taking nonsense. Imagine we can agree to disagree.

You are not my shepherd ati I have to follow your opinion. Jesus is. Just a polite reminder.

“Stop blaming your parents” and other uninformed barks

Okay, I don’t know what I was going through when I put this down as a bullet point LOL! I want to edit it, but let me respect whatever I was feeling at the time.

This should be a post by itself- oh wait!- but, to break it down, I make fun with my siblings that we have white parents. What is liberal??? Case in point.

The reactions lol!

I have said some things to my parents that if my child ends up saying them to me, I’ll take that L. I would have it coming. That said, I have progressive parents who can sit down, reflect on their actions, and have the moral courage to make things right. I have blamed my parents for me being in therapy, and frankly, it is their fault.

That said, they are humans, and I understand where they are coming from and why they’ve done what they did in the past. They have caused pain in my life, but it is up to ME to fix myself at the end of the day. Blaming them won’t make me better; seeking healing from various sources is my problem. Forgiveness is also a thing; you can’t heal without forgiveness.

I did some IG stories saying how I love the relationship I currently have with my folks, and I mean it. We have come such a long way. My goodness.

PS: Respect goes both ways. You won’t earn it from me through intimidation. Nah fam. As my famous saying goes, “If my father CANNOT talk or treat me the way you are, WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?”

“Yes, that’s how internal healing SOMEWHAT looks like.”

Imagine ghosting means I’ve healed?

“I am sorry, did I ask for your lazy opinion?”

The confidence that uninformed people have is fascinating. Kwanza, those people that tell me how to deal with my mental health struggles and analyze my emotions for me. Sir. Miss. Read a book. Better yet, ask me. I am an expert at me, not you. Me.

“Sorry, what course again do I need to take in mind reading?” Experts out here in these streets, show me your ways!

“Yes, I looked at my phone ring” and other stories

For the most part, I don’t avoid picking calls just to be rude. The main reason is typically I am not in the right headspace, and I won’t give you my best. When I am moody or anything like that, I prefer to deal with my emotions, and when I am in a better space, I call back. The same thing goes with texting. I am not ignoring you; I just don’t believe in giving people half-assed responses for the sake of it. I value you as a human being, and I will show up as such.

Now you know where I am coming from. I haven’t ghosted you; I am merely gathering myself unless I have ghosted you. Then yea.

“I love you… but from over TTHEEERRREEE!!!”

I am positive that a lot of people feel this way about me, and I understand. Si ati you have a problem with the person, but them being around you is just a big no. I am surprised I still have people I can call friends. It’s honestly shocking to me. I am a difficult human, ask me, I live with myself, I KNOW!

So, when I distance myself from you, don’t feel bad. Rejoice even. I am one nasty human being when I get tired of you or just lose respect for you. You don’t want to deal with that version of me. Ask my exs. I burn that ish to the ground with ZERO regrets. But even you, by the time I am scorching the earth, it’s mostly your fault. But what is the fragile male ego, gaslighting and taking a [im]moral high ground?

I’m sorry, am I rude? If you’re triggered, check yourself. HAHA! Ah, today, chills melted.

“I’m sorry, you said what?”

At this point, I CLEARLY drafted these points when I was pissed off about something, LOL!

I am tired of the cycle I have been in, and honestly, I have been the foolish one. Let me take that L; it was my fault. That said, I sat down last night and wrote down some of my core values, so I don’t forget them ever again. It doesn’t matter if you’re family, relative, friend, romantic interest, partner- whatever.

1. Don’t disrespect me.

2. No one is above reproach.

3. Don’t take my love and kindness for granted- ever.

4. Never used my mental health battle against me.

5. If my gut and spirit refuse you, it’s a you-problem

(That last one, weh. I’d be so peaceful if I’d listen. Damn.)

“Siblings. What are the homicide levels again?”

LOL!!! Yea, some major piss-so-sity right here!!

This was probably about my younger brother. I have forgiven him, but MAAAANNNN, he had angered me! Me when I am upset, I say things like, “I don’t care if you die,” and imagine I mean it. By the time I say that I have sat down, thought about it, and made peace. Aki don’t disrespect me. Weh!

Now we are good, back to being best friends. It’s all dandy now.

“Will you die if you don’t replace the tissue?”

Again… living with a boychild.

But at least they know to put the toilet seat down. That’s something, no?

“That’s what I said to my mama” and other stories

I have repented, but I’ll understand if I live a short life based on the 5th commandment. To think that a mother-in-law will escape me calling out bad behavior. As Ricky said, “You have balls of steel.” No one is above reproach imagine. I won’t be malicious, but I will call a spade a spade to the boychild. Vumilia is you and the previous generation. Siko hapo.

What’s with this pedestal people have placed their parents on? Yes, respect them, but don’t endorse bad behavior. Si, even parents, are told in the Bible not to provoke their children to anger? Ah-ah! Please. That said, my family culture is different, and we don’t take bullying lying down.

(My mouth and face do need deliverance, though. Let me not pretend I am entirely proud of how I talk when emotionally charged. Case in point, this post).

“Copy-pasting your parent’s marriage: are you a clone?”

This goes across the board. If your mother endured domestic violence, don’t repeat the cycle. If your father didn’t enter the kitchen, and you’re still asking your wife to help with the bills, please stop. If your parents gave you epic beatdowns, don’t repeat it with your children.

Too many broken people in relationships. Too many. If you haven’t dealt with your family trauma, please don’t get married or even have children. The world is already broken, don’t contribute to the problem.

That said, context is everything. If your mother enjoyed cooking and girl child has strengths in other areas, adapt. Don’t try to turn her into your mother’s clone. It’s dysfunctional and honestly disturbing. And you women wanting cars not caring where boychild is getting money from yet you come from a two-parent household with no cars… I mean, thrive, but that can’t be a dating criterion.

Season finale: “Did I offend you? Aki pole.”

Bassss… Woiye… Aki…. Bassss… Bassss…

I’m sorry?! LOL!

You’ve read this far!

Thanks for indulging me in this rant that I have honestly laughed myself through. Weh, when a woman is pissed off… Anyhoo! As always, thanks for stopping by.

Cheers!

Conversations with your demons: A guide to relative sanity

I started this blog three weeks ago. Halfway through, I got into an epic depressive state; my housemates thought I’d traveled. I remained in bed for five days, and every two days, I’d sneak out and have three sausages, just so I don’t pass out from hunger. The point is, as always, I don’t come at you with things I haven’t lived and learned from. For this one, you’ll need 15-20 minutes to read. You’ve been told.

As usual, I am here with some hard truths, so you’ll likely be triggered.

As you know, I am well acquainted with a couple my demons. Have you witnessed my dark humor? Even so, those bastards and I have learned to coexist- for the most part. We do have fights sometimes, but they know who is in charge.

Back story

Context is important.

Like many of us, my younger brother experiences anxiety both at the beginning of a course and when waiting for the results. It is clockwork. First, it’s, “Will I be able to get the units I need to finish this course?” and ends with, “If I fail these units, my GPA will fall drastically.” I don’t remember being like this, so I find it interesting to watch him go through every pessimistic scenario he can think of.

Academics have never made me panic per se; I couldn’t relate. However, for empathy’s sake, I had to dig deeper.

Enter the chanting demons

What mostly drives me crazy is the loop- like the recent episode where I turned into a screaming Karen until I had to let it go. Don’t ask.

What I hate about it is no level of disruption can stop the flow of thoughts, and si ati the thoughts are usually saying nice things. Heck, I mostly wouldn’t even have the power to talk back because, these chanting demons were right. I had messed up; I could have done better, I was not worth the opportunity, people hate me, I will never amount to anything, what have I done with my life, I am an imposter, _____ (insert your demonic chant here).

These chats are SO EXHAUSTING to listen to throughout the day! My word!

My worst chants are the variety “I have nothing to show for my 30 years on this planet.” Add the depression, and it’s “not that you’ll do anything with the time left anyway.” *Enter suicidal idealization*

It got to a point, deep in the duvets, I’d tell myself that at the very least, my parents would never kick me out, and I can grow old in their house and die. I mean, who or what is Purpose?

And then some misguided people come and tell me I JUST have to think positively. Please, stop. You’re feeding the demons. Now you’ve added, “Look at you being so negative all the time. No wonder no one likes you.” I have enough on my plate. Also, is you ‘me’ to know what I feel? Is you calling me a liar? Eschuse.

PSA: Don’t send people uplifting quotes unless you know the space they’re in. Sometimes they need a cast, not a band-aid.

7 steps Wambaire uses to handle her demons

Fam. It has taken YEARS of inner work and therapy to get to where I feel I have an ounce of confidence even to offer advice. The progress I’ve made was only evident when talking to my younger brother as he expressed the worst-case scenarios.  That said, I still have a LONG way to go, so take this with a grain-ish of salt.

Haya basi, let’s start.

One: Acknowledge your demons’ presence

Here is where I went wrong for years.

It was brought to my attention back in 2015-2016 that I had two sides warring within me. There was the “good Christian girl” and the “ratchet around the edges” Wambaire. The guilt I felt every time I woke up after a night out was INTENSE! My word. If I could, I’d opt to remain in bed all day wallowing.

As with wars, I got tired. Nothing seemed to work, ESPECIALLY Scripture. I’d quote those tackling ‘thought life’, but my demons would just stop briefly, look at each other, and turn the volume up.

A word for the zealots: It wasn’t a God problem; it was a me problem. Keep reading. And yes, I’ll keep posting dark White Jesus memes.

Being tired of fighting is good; it means you’re at a point of surrender. Society tells you ‘keep fighting,’ but we all need to rest at some point. HOWEVER! In this case, resting means not fighting your demons. It is calling a truce and having a real conversation.  

Two: Let the demons act up (but under supervision)

Disclaimer: If you’re suicidal, please use this next suggestion with a counselor’s support.

Helpful example: Think of a loving parent observing their child’s tantrums and meltdowns. No reacting- just looking at the spectacle. When the child sees you’re not responding “accordingly,” they’ll calm down long enough to for you to hold a conversation with them. Besides, they’ll see being bratty isn’t working and change tactic.

Practical example: If a nasty thought comes, don’t react; simply calmly ask, “Do you wanna talk about it?” and await a response. If the answer is rude, take a lap, then come back again and still in a calm spirit.

Another word for the zealots: Shouting down your thoughts (never mind other people’s opinions) with loud prayers and condemnation doesn’t help. You’re called to be Christ-like, not a megaphone.

Here’s the thing, there is an element of truth in the demons’ chant. Is it distorted? Absolutely, but when you observe long enough, you begin to see a pattern. To become a reasonable observer, you need to be present and keep in mind that no thought is good or bad; it just is. Removing the labels, though it’s a struggle, helps build objectivity.

Three: Feel. Every. Single. Emotion.

Reminder: BUT don’t act out on it unless it results in talking to a healthy person you trust, journaling, or tears.

Your first instinct will be a distraction or self-medication. That’s why you’re ever watching series and movies, working, spending hours on social media, have sex, masturbating, drinking, or smoking weed. You don’t want to think or feel.

When you begin the journey, an emotion most people feel is anger. Especially men; is there another emotion they express more than rage? Yes, I am coming for everyone. Chills are outside this blog; you can go, cool down and come back. 😊 Another strong emotion is shame. Go call out a man for his wrongdoing and then get back to me. Or tell a woman who knows her worth that she’s worthless.

Learn to expand your emotional vocabulary. Is it fear, dread, loneliness, despair, grief, resentment, outrage, panic, sadness, guilt, shame, embarrassment, regret…? What is it? Whatever it is, feel it, but under a safe space.

It’s going to hurt: When exploring underlying emotions, YOU WILL FEEL A LOT OF PAIN. I am shouting for the ones in the back. Piercing chest pains, swollen throat, moist eyes. Whatever you feel, sit put.

Note: take time off because you’ll be an emotional mess. Trust me; you don’t want people seeing you in your broken state. It’s not a you thing. When you’re raw, you make others uncomfortable, and their instinct is to move away.

Four: Take a nap/ sleep

If the emotions are too strong, sleep. Even if you feel they are under control, sleep all the same.

“When you sleep, God does maintenance on the soul.”

Five: Dismantle and recreate the chant

We’ve talked about observing the emotion, identifying what it is, and sitting with it. Now that you’re feeling, ask yourself, “What is beneath these thoughts, words and emotion?”

When you observe what your demons are chanting, patterns emerge.

For example, I was SO SURE people generally don’t like me. Some don’t, I lack a filter for bad behavior. However, I realized the feeling came from being alienated most of my life. I can sum it up into this: in 8th grade, we were reading a poem aloud, and right after, “Boys rarely make passes, at girls who wear glasses” some guy pointed at me. Add acne on top of that. Who is Self Esteem?

Years later, I started a small counter chant of my own, “I am worthy of the space I occupy.” I didn’t care if I woke up feeling like my face had taken a time out on pretty or I remembered all failed relationships. ‘People mess up, but I am worthy of the space I occupy.” Choose yourself. Especially if you’re a woman, choose yourself and adjust your own chant accordingly.  

Do you see where I am going?

After noting where the thoughts were coming from, I sat down with that 5- year old Wambaire who was excluded from a group because she had bread for break time during Closing Day. I sat down with the 11-year-old me, who was told, “No wonder boys don’t like you.” I sat down with the 16-year-old me that was bullied and ate lunch alone at the back of the library. In the pain, I constantly remind myself, “I am worthy of the space I occupy.”

When starting, find something that resonates with you, then go from there; continue to build on the chant.

There is no growth without pain. Nduta Gathigi said it well in her recent blog post Confronting Our Weakness.

Six: Transform the chant into a conversation

Case in point: I was to help my younger brother run an errand, but my mind was like, “Nope! I don’t want to see humans outside of this house today.”

Demon 1: If it were him, he wouldn’t have failed to come through.

Demon 2: You’re not there for him… What kind of sister are you?

Demon 3: You can’t blame depression for being in bed for a whole week. You-

Wambaire: (out loud) Excuse me. Let’s reverse this. If it was him saying he doesn’t want to see humans, would I understand it? (silence) Why? (Silence) We both get the struggle, sindio? Would I want him to feel guilty?

Demons:

Wambaire: Thought so. Nonsense.

You learning to run the conversation does get more manageable. You’ll find your mind a lot quieter because they know who’s boss. If anything, they’d be having side conversations wondering who to push forward to speak.

Btw: I now understand why it’s taken ages to post this article. While turning the chant into a conversation, you have to talk to yourself A LOT. When the chant is going on, interrupt it with a purposeful, logical discussion. Literally, in your mind or out loud, challenge the demons. Just as in the example, hijack the narrative. Speak of what is true and what you feel, and then sit with it. You’ve lost an opportunity, and you feel like trash? Talk about how you feel like crap, what you did wrong, and what you can do better. When the demon comes at you again, just say, e.g., “I know I messed up, but I forgive myself,” with the awareness of how so many layers of dysfunction that got you there. It’s not an excuse; it’s now up to you to work and not let the same sin happen again while being VERY understanding with yourself.

Seven: Keep at it

Like a child learning to walk, beloved, you will fall—a lot. But keep at it; it gets easier.

You’ve made it this far!

As always, thanks for stopping by. If you want a discussion, slide into my DM on Twitter or IG @wambairem on both platforms.

Until next time, take care of yourself, beloved.

Cheers.

Unconditional love: Dysfunction-ish edition

Disclaimer: I am no expert on this topic. However, you’re welcome to take a peek into my mind.

Context: Ma Familia

I think the unconditional love lesson hit home when my elder brother stated that his main reason for moving out was because I was the most toxic member of the family.

I’ll let that sink in.

Fast forward, now that it’s out of his chest and we can agree we aren’t each other’s favorite sibling, I know for a fact that we love each other. He moved on to start his own family, but if something was wrong with me, and vice versa, we would show up for each other in full support. Once in a while, we’ll trade drunken catch-up phone calls that typically end with “I love you.” Do I think he was right? Perhaps not, because I also thought he was a failure as an elder brother. People see things differently. HOWEVER, we can only speak of our reality.

*He doesn’t read my blog, so this is between you and I, okay? 😊

Yes, that is the type of family I hail from.

Is it the norm? HELL NO!

Do people understand it? HELL, to the NO!

And that’s fine.

Here’s the thing about us. We are zealots when it comes to calling out each other’s bad behavior, whatever the hierarchy. I have swallowed some significant Ls myself for my actions. Somehow, my parents managed to produce three children with no filter and boldness to call a spade a spade. I love my dad and mum, but the epic showdowns we’ve had in the past have made our current conversations so much richer.

What is the recipe?

Respect.

One more time for the people in the back-

RESPECT!

In a group chat with my siblings, not sure what prompted it, I wrote, “we have white parents.” Have you watched those clips of white kids acting schupid, and they aren’t whooped to near-death? You know, those videos that we African kids watch in disbelief because we know if we tried something similar, we’d be dead? Like literally?

Don’t get me wrong; my parents weren’t always liberal. I have been beaten with a mega torch, slippers, a hose, and, yes, a banana. My mum was next level Rambo. She could throw a slipper across the room at a moving target, and it would hit you smack in the middle of the back.

That aside, Wambaire developed a mouth in high school. I’m sure you can tell from the posts I put out. Actually, the mouth was there long before. As a kid, I remember visiting my grandfolks and saying one of the uncles had brought cheap biscuits. He was so offended he told his mummy, LOL! That said, he is the uncle that we as cousins pay the least attention to. Oh, and my aunts choosing not to share a bed with me when visiting because I was used to sleeping alone and made that clear. Ah, and that time I told my aunt to vacate my folks’ house because she was a selfish- she was making things to be about herself. The apology after was cosmetic, because… because. I have a Ph.D. in putting people in check. Is it a good thing? *scratches nose* Bitchness has been strong in me since childhood.

Okay, you know what. I am the problem, just that I am okay with it, as long as I call out bad behavior. If I have ever said something to you, analyze it. If I was wrong, let me know, I will apologize. I aspire to peace, love, and unity. If you’re not inspiring that, then… well… it might be a YOU problem that has me at a “no fucks given” me problem.

But the meme below summarizes how my dad didn’t summon the clan and our ancestors for a lynching when I talked back. Because, my word! If my life is short, I won’t even complain because of that 5th commandment. I pray that Jesus fulfilled it, meaning I get to 100, with a tot of gin in my hand.

The bottom line was, while my siblings and I stormed the entity of parenthood and had what we can call an insurrection, we were looking to be treated with respect. Not as equals, but with respect. This thing for African parents talking smack to you because they born you wasn’t something we were going to live with. The respect we had for ourselves was so strong that we had to get it from them too.

There’s a counseling psychology term for this type of shift in the family dynamics, but it’s not coming to mind at the moment. I know that a lot of families don’t get past the tipping point to positive change. They resist it, and the status quo, dysfunctional as hell, remains.

I thank God we moved past it. Was it messy? That’s an under-question.

I recommend revolutions in families. Conversations with my parents is sooo muuccchhh richer! They see you as a whole and as an independent person they can have a meaningful conversation with. You learn from each other, bounce off ideas, laugh about the past… it’s beautiful. What’s even more fantastic is if you have differing positions, WE BOTH stop and try understand where the other is coming from.

Yes, my folks are better than yours.

And then there’s the rest of the world

I know if I have a fight with my folks now, where we exchange words calling out each other’s behavior (yes, the behavior, not the person), if I was to collapse for whatever reason, they would go above and beyond to be there for me. They have left the house at 3am before to take me to hospital. At 2am to retrieve me from a fucked-up situation.

My parents put the ride in “ride or die” lol

HOWEVER!

I realize that other families out here, based on the stories my friends give me and what I’ve heard, love is VERY conditional. Apparently not meeting a certain standard gets you talked about negatively and basically treated like a non-human. Where, when you make one mistake, you are no longer liked, especially if you’re an outsider. I don’t understand that structure but it’s the reality.

I am living with bipolar. My parents have seen it in its full glory (banging their door at 11pm- demons don’t know time smh!) but love me none the less. “But it’s their job!” Sorry? Have you seen how some parents treat their own children?

So, for me, stepping out into the world, I expect a level of understanding especially when my moods flair up. It is not a license for me to be schupid, no. I only expect a level of understanding when I mess up based on factors beyond me, e.g my mind, and my mood, BIPOLAR. That said, not everyone has the patience for it, and that is okay.

My love language is following up. “How are you doing? How are the meds taking you? Were you able to get out of bed today? What about the nightmares? Also, what is bipolar? You know what, better yet, let me google it for myself.”

Just like racism, it is not my job to educate you about it. We live in an information age; your ignorance is a choice.

So now, what do we do?

I lost fucks. However, they do tend to creep in once in a while. This is how I choose to look at it.

Not everyone is equipped to handle the levels of “emotions” I have. Emotion is a lazy term for people who aren’t capable of understanding the complexities of the human mind. I have also been lazy in some contexts, so I get it on a larger scale. Personality and experience can also be a huge barrier to embracing other people.

The next is working on self-love to degrees that people’s inability to understand you won’t hurt you. And here’s where I say, “How I feel is a me problem. How you feel is a YOU problem.” I can be hurt by someone’s reaction to my essence, but at the end of it, it’s me with the feelings, not the other person. So, I will sit with it until I have moved past it. A recent realization is “If you liked me so much and I fucked up this one time, and you withdrew your affection, did you even like me in the first place?”

Note: There are a lot of people I love, and would wish to talk and hang out with, but. Being compatible, come rain or sunshine, is not something we’re all blessed with. Friendships and family can survive some things, others can’t.

What is my point?

One: Not everyone was Jesus’s fans. Who am I?

Two: Love manifests differently based on your essence and background. However, there is true love, and there is “you must” love. Example is people with abusive parents and still say “I love my parents”. That is fear laced with perverted societal expectations. Call a spade a spade.

Final question

Do you REALLY love your parents?

Call to action

Want to have a conversation? Email me at maureenwambaire@gmail.com if you do have the energy, and we can take it from there.

Until then, hydrate, wear a mask, and love yourself.

Cheers.