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Thank you🥂🥂🥂
....and when words fail me Lord
When my mouth can't open and my heart is weary
When my hope is hanging on to you
Help my faith, remind me of who I am in you
Help me to never forget your many promises
Help my fragile heart to stay!
....heartmusings
There is also a conversation we need to have with Christian men.
Because some of you speak about women with an underhanded disdain that is deeply un-Christlike, then hide behind “biblical order” to justify it.
You cannot simply look at every Christian woman who resonates with feminism and dismiss her as rebellious. History has shown women have had reasons to fight. The Church is not entirely innocent in the abuse and silencing of women. We have sometimes weaponized Scripture instead of rightly dividing it.
Some women did not become angry because they hate God. They became angry because people used God against them.
There are women who have been talked down to, ignored, diminished, spiritually manipulated, and emotionally controlled in church spaces while men quoted “submission” at them like a threat.
And when women begin to push back against that, you cannot automatically label them rebellious without enough humility to ask:
“What exactly are they reacting to?”
Because even in Scripture, God did not condemn women who challenged systems.
The daughters of Zelophehad fought.
They contended.
They challenged a structure that disadvantaged them.
And God said:
“The daughters of Zelophehad speak right.” (Numbers 27:7)
Not rebellious.
Not dishonorable.
Not with the spirit of Jezebel…
Right.
Some of you need to realize that being male does not automatically make your interpretation superior.
Statements like:
“Woman was created later, therefore she is lesser,”
“Eve was deceived, therefore women are inferior,”
“Men are naturally superior because Adam came first,”
do not make you sound spiritually mature. They make you sound biblically unintelligent.
Genesis 1 says:
“Male and female created he them.”
God did not create woman as an afterthought. He had both genders in mind from the beginning.
And Genesis 2 is not about superiority.
It is about order.
Order does not mean value.
Christ and the Church have order.
The Father and the Son have order.
Order is not inferiority.
In fact, biblical leadership is not domination.
Christ never used His position to belittle the Church, He died for her.
So how did some Christian men become more arrogant than Christ?
You brandish submission like a weapon.
You speak about masculinity like it is superiority.
You talk about women as though leadership means lordship.
News flash, you are not a biblical male. You are carnally minded and we all know what that means.
To lead in our Kingdom is to serve. Where is your service?!
And if creation order is your argument for superiority, then goats should be greater than men because animals were created before Adam.
The logic collapses immediately.
The truth is many women are angry because they encountered distortion disguised as doctrine.
Male ego preached as theology.
Misogyny defended with proof texts.
And instead of constantly rushing to call women rebellious, maybe Christian men need enough self-awareness to ask:
“Have we represented Christ properly?”
Because many women are not rejecting Christ.
They are reacting to men who looked nothing like Him.
Love and Light… with a sprinkle of Holy Ghost Fire.
Honestly , this question is heavier than it looks.
Because once a woman clocks 30 and she’s still single, the assumptions start.
Not curiosity. Not concern.
Judgment.
There’s this quiet conclusion that she must have done something wrong.
Stayed too long in the wrong relationship.
Focused too much on work.
Was too picky.
Didn’t “behave well enough.”
Nobody ever stops to consider that maybe… life just happened.
Maybe she loved deeply and it didn’t work out.
Maybe she walked away from something that would’ve destroyed her.
Maybe she chose peace over pressure.
Maybe she simply wasn’t ready ,and that should be allowed.
What’s funny is how men of the same age aren’t questioned the same way.
A 35-year-old man is “still building.”
A 35-year-old woman is “running out of time.”
That difference isn’t biology alone.
It’s how we’ve been taught to see women as timelines, not people.
The truth a lot of people don’t like to say out loud is this:
Women in their 30s usually know themselves better.
They’ve learned from mistakes.
They ask harder questions.
They don’t rush because of noise.
And that makes some men uncomfortable.
So instead of saying “she won’t tolerate nonsense,”
society says “she’s old.”
Instead of admitting “she’s more aware,”
they say “something must be wrong with her.”
It’s easier to label a woman than to accept that she chose herself.
Being single in your 30s isn’t a failure.
It’s not a moral flaw.
It’s not evidence of bad character.
Sometimes it’s just proof that you refused to ruin your life just to meet a deadline someone else set for you.
And if that makes people uncomfortable…
maybe that’s the point.
i don’t talk about this often, but with everything happening lately, I feel like it’s important to say it.
on 21/10/2020, i almost took my own life. Not because I wanted to die, but because my mind had completely worn me out. I was dealing with a mental breakdown I didn’t even know how to explain to anyone.
i felt overwhelmed, tired, and stuck in my own head, and it reached a point where living felt heavier than leaving.
at that time, my thoughts were constantly against me. every small mistake felt like proof that I was failing at life. i kept replaying things I could have done better, things I should have been stronger about, and it made me feel like I was a burden instead of a person.
on the outside, everything looked normal. i was still online, still tweeting, still laughing sometimes. but inside, I was quietly falling apart, and no one really teaches you how to ask for help when you don’t even understand what’s wrong with you.
that day, it felt like everything came crashing down at once. i remember thinking a lot about my mom and how much I loved her, and at the same time, feeling like I had disappointed her by not being “strong enough.”
in that moment, my mind convinced me that people would be better off without me. that’s how distorted things get when you’re not okay. so I tweeted, “Tell my mom I love her.” i wasn’t trying to be dramatic or get attention. in my head, that was me saying goodbye.
after I tweeted it, I didn’t feel emotional. I felt numb. and that numbness is dangerous because it feels calm, like you’ve finally stopped fighting.
i had already accepted whatever came next. But then something happened that I still think about till today. people noticed. mutuals I had never met in real life reached out. they checked in, asked if I was okay, stayed in my DMs, and refused to let me disappear quietly.
some of them didn’t have the right words. Some just kept talking. Some simply stayed present. and somehow, that human connection, imperfect as it was, pulled me back.
that night didn’t magically fix my life. I didn’t suddenly heal or become positive. I just stayed alive. and sometimes, that’s enough for that moment.
seeing the news about Lazywrita hurts because I recognize that place he was in. that deep tiredness. that silence. that feeling of carrying too much while still showing up online like everything is fine.
a lot of people don’t actually want to die; they just want the pain in their head to stop. and when you’ve been strong for too long, even breathing can start to feel like work.
i’m grateful I stayed. not because life became perfect, but because I’ve experienced moments I would have missed. laughter I didn’t think I’d feel again. growth that came slowly, quietly, over time.
if you’re reading this and you’re not okay, please know that your thoughts are not always telling you the truth. pain has a way of making you believe there’s no future, even when there is.
you don’t have to have everything figured out. you don’t have to be strong today. you just have to stay. reach out to someone. say something, even if it comes out messy. let someone interrupt the spiral.
i’m still here because a few people chose to care instead of scrolling past. i’ll never forget that.
rest in peace, Lazywrita. and to anyone silently struggling, your story is not over. please stay. 🤍
love, frey!
PLS REPOST 🙏🙏🙏
Guys please, I’m asking from my heart to help save Ganiyat.
She’s just 23 and now battling kidney failure. She had a transplant in 2019 but the kidney collapsed and she needs a replacement at about #20 million
...that's why I'm tired these days,tired of shouldering all these emotional works without being able to pour out mine. Tired of working,tired of being me.
Somedays I ask myself,what could have been different if I wasn't the elder one.
And some days,I just cry......
Elder daughter trauma is a real thing & sadly no one talks about it. You grow up too fast, not because you want to, but because the house silently decides you’re the responsible one. You become the trial version of adulthood while the younger ones get the updates. Every mistake you make becomes a family seminar, every achievement becomes “haan, expected hi tha.” You learn to swallow your fear, your anger, your breakdowns, because apparently “strong girls don’t cry.”
You’re the referee during parents fights, the unpaid therapist during crises, the emotional shock absorber for everyone’s bad decisions & somewhere in between managing everyone else, you forget how to ask for help yourself. You become the stability everyone relies on, more like a third parent even on the days you’re falling apart inside.
And the worst part? People think you’re doing fine because you’ve mastered the art of keeping your voice steady when your world isn’t. Elder daughters don’t burn out loudly, they fade quietly, still making sure the lights are on for everyone else.
My father once told me the secret to a happy marriage.
“Stay out of the kitchen. Let her handle the holidays.”
I was 19. He was in his recliner.
My mother was cooking for 14 people.
She’d been up since 5 AM.
He’d been up since the football pregame.
I didn’t think anything of it.
That’s just how it was.
Fast forward 20 years.
I’m in the recliner.
My wife is in the kitchen.
She’s been up since 5 AM.
I’ve been up since the pregame.
My daughter walks by and I see her watching.
Not the TV.
Her mother.
Then me.
Then her mother again.
That’s when it hit me:
She’s taking notes.
My father taught me that holidays were for men to rest and women to work.
He didn’t say it.
He showed it.
Every Thanksgiving.
Every Christmas.
Every Easter.
The recliner passed from him to me like an inheritance I never asked for.
This morning I woke up at 4 AM.
Not for content.
For the turkey.
My wife found me in the kitchen at 6.
She didn’t say anything.
She just stood there.
Then she cried.
Your kids are taking notes.
Not on what you say.
On where you sit.
The recliner is an inheritance.
Be the generation that stands up.
Another Balloon Year🥂🥂
Thank you Jesus🙌🏾🙌🏾 for the shege I saw and for the happy days,most especially for the shege. I'm indeed a testament of your Love,Grace,Care and your Being💓💓💓
Manifesting soft love,the one with love letters and the lil things of life that matters this new year of my life.
Manifesting being found and the wisdom to keep that which the Lord gives me
Amen🙇🏾♂️🙇🏾♂️🙇🏾♂️