I’m starting to understand why people protect their evenings so much. After spending all day being available to everyone, it's nice to have a few hours that belong only to you.
your relationship with yourself cannot be built entirely around improvement. at some point, you have to become someone you are allowed to enjoy being. you get to be proud of who you are. present tense
@yimikaaaa Sometimes freedom and loneliness exist in the same room. You can love your independence and still deeply miss having people who make you feel needed, remembered, and at home.
turns out women get more autoimmune diseases from suppressed anger and trauma.. so basically every time you don't flip a table, your immune system takes a hit. moral of the story? throw the fuckin chair girl. it's preventative medicine
I saw a post on Reddit that said, “When you walk through a museum, you’re not just looking at art. You’re moving through centuries of people trying to explain love, grief, power, beauty, and belonging.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen a museum described so beautifully.
learn to go where wealthy people go. you don’t have to spend like them, you just have to stop feeling like you don’t belong there.
i remember when i couldn’t afford the lifestyle i wanted yet.
every friday evening, i’d walk into a high end hotel lobby, order one coffee, sit in the same corner and open my laptop like i belonged there. nobody knew i was going back to a small brokie apartment after 😂 all they saw was someone comfortable in that environment. week after week, something changed.
i stopped feeling like an outsider. i studied how people spoke, how they carried themselves, how deals were discussed and how confidence looked in real life.
one night, a man approached me cos he assumed i was a regular. that conversation opened a door to an opportunity i wasn’t qualified for on paper but i carried myself like i was. do you know that months later, my reality caught up with that environment i had been exposing myself to. nothing magical happened. i simply stopped seeing that world as theirs and started seeing it as a place i belonged too
i will repeat this again;
if you spend all day at a fish market, you’ll leave smelling like fish even if you never touched one but spend your day in a perfume shop and you’ll carry the scent even if you didn’t buy anything, that’s how environment works. it rubs off, whether you realize it or not. the scent of your environment will always follow you.
wealth starts with familiarity before it starts with money. your mind has to accept a reality before ur life can build it. learn something, buena suerte.
Cette jeune maman a expliqué à sa fille ce que sont les pertes vaginales après que celle ci lui a posé la question. Et franchement c’était fait de manière remarquable; elle a utilisé les bons termes en faisant la distinction entre la vulve et le vagin. Elle a aussi parlé des poils sans les présenter comme quelque chose de sale ou de honteux (validant ainsi leur apparition et leur fonction biologique), elle a également expliqué brièvement ce que sont les menstruations avec des mots simples et justes et sans dramatisation.
Et franchement c’est ça aussi le féminisme, cad transmettre des connaissances de manière rigoureuse, utiliser le vocabulaire approprié et parler du corps des filles avec neutralité sans reproduire les tabous ou le dégoût qui leur sont souvent associés.
I JUST HEARD SOMEONE SAY
"MAYBE YOU DON'T NEED MORE TIME TO HEAL, MAYBE YOU NEED MORE EXPERIENCES THAT SHOW YOUR NERVOUS SYSTEM A DIFFERENT REALTY"
AND, YEAH.
Let us say the uncomfortable part out loud.
Jonasi Gomora was the fire.
But the women around him kept giving that fire oxygen.
That is the conversation The Polygamist forced us to have.
Yes, Jonasi lied.
Yes, he betrayed.
Yes, he moved like a man who knew too many people would still open the door for him.
But after 22 episodes, the real question is no longer only:
Why was Jonasi like that?
The real question is:
Why did these women keep making room for a man who kept breaking the room?
Joyce received divorce papers and still begged him to stay.
That was not love standing strong.
That was a woman terrified of losing the life she had built around one man.
Essie saw the signs.
She saw the humiliation.
She saw another woman being brought into the story.
And still, she swallowed her voice for years until silence became part of her marriage.
Matipa knew the house was already burning before she entered.
But she still walked in with ambition, hope, pride, and a dangerous belief that maybe she could win where others had lost themselves.
That is why The Polygamist is bigger than cheating.
It is about what happens when a woman wants to be chosen so badly that she stops choosing herself.
It is about the kind of love that slowly turns into endurance.
The kind of forgiveness that stops being holy and starts becoming self-betrayal.
The kind of loyalty that makes you clap for your own disrespect because you are scared to walk away empty-handed.
Jonasi did not force endless forgiveness.
They kept serving it.
Jonasi did not force them to shrink.
They kept adjusting themselves to fit inside his chaos.
And that is the part that should scare people.
Because once your standards start moving backwards, even humiliation can begin to look normal.
You will share a man and call it patience.
You will accept public embarrassment and call it marriage.
You will keep forgiving the same wound and call it maturity.
You will stay in a situation that is eating you alive and say, “At least he comes home.”
No.
Love is not supposed to erase you.
Marriage is not supposed to make you disappear from your own life.
And forgiveness is not supposed to become a key you keep handing to someone who keeps entering your peace with dirty shoes.
Joyce, Essie, and Matipa were different women.
But they all showed us one dangerous thing:
When self love is weak, even a bad situation can start feeling like home.
Jonasi was wrong.
But their silence protected him.
Their forgiveness enabled him.
Their fear gave him more time.
Their low standards gave him space to keep moving like a king in houses he was destroying.
That is the real sting of The Polygamist.
Sometimes the person hurting you is guilty.
But the door they keep using is still in your hands.
Choose yourself before someone teaches you how little they can give and still keep you.