Added: Antionette Hix - Date: 05.05.2022 14:27 - Views: 48392 - Clicks: 6138
You are often subjected to snide remarks from elderly relatives. They compare you to the married daughter of so-and-so. People have had varied tales of how they met their Mr Right and how they knew he was the one. Sometimes you wonder why you keep on pulling out the joker card. You recall your 20s with a peculiar fondness, and all the singles meetings you faithfully attended in Nairobi.
Always armed with hope, sharp ears, a thick King James Bible and luminescent yellow highlighter pen. Of course you immediately blotted out any time-wasting evening outings, coffee dates and what nots, and replaced all that time with church activities.
So it was prayer meetings on Monday evenings, visitation ministry on Tuesday, choir practice on Wednesday, cleaning group on Thursday and Fridays on your agenda were kesha nights. Naturally, your weekends were spent milling around church for services, hospital visitations and handing out witnessing tracts.
Within no time, some lanky dude noticed you, and you noticed him noticing you. However you felt he had no sense of fashion and he kinda walked funny. You immediately deemed him incompatible based on that. So you went on a shopping spree and bagged a haul of second-hand novels from the street vendors.
You also got yourself a thesaurus, so that if you met someone who would engage your brain muscle, you would throw in some complex words. A fellow Christian suggested that you stop wearing rings because a ring symbolised some sort of commitment. This was scaring off Mr Right.
So you hastily flung the rings away like they were on fire, and kept your fingers free. Still…the years rolled on without Mr Right in sight. You shook off every reminder of your spinsterhood and the ever deafening tick of your biological clock by applying for further studies out of the country.
Of course pangs of loneliness set in, and you craved companionship, more so in Europe where there were very low fences or none at all. But people bolted their doors shut and there was no casually knocking the neighbours door for an idle chat, a slice of cake or a pinch of salt, without appointments.
You paid to be a gold member of an interracial dating website. The swiping right and left, gazing dreamily at tanned chiseled blonds with hypnotising granite eyes, was really happening. You begun to chat with one and everything seemed to fall in line. He fit the qualities you were looking for in Mr Right.
Height, looks, well-travelled and career-driven- check. He seemed sweet and spoke kindly, until he broke down what he was really looking for in a mate.
You see online dating is pretty much like a two-way interview process. This powerful C. He needs to feel enslaved, needs to be ordered around like a servant. In another text, he blurts out that he is completely frenzied by the thought of a dark chocolate dominatrix garbed in a leather corset. That would include the fish-net stockings, with knee-high black stilettos, a flowing down weave and red hot lips. The next guy you chat with is elderly; a silver fox. His receding hairline is interrupted by shocks of stubby white hair at the back of his head. You want to give him a chance, as he makes you deliriously happy by his corny jokes and compliments, and you feel the chemistry.
Could he be the one? You have to wonder about the stigma attached to girls marrying guys old enough to be their uncles. Dealing with folks back home unleashing names like fossil, ancestor, kandeshi, concubine, sugar baby and so forth. Not to mention the cross-generational relationships where everyone will assume you are a gold-digger.
He could get hitched even tomorrow, but you have to a pre-nup. He slowly unravels himself as a certified psycho, and you think that some of the behaviour that you watch on Investigative Discovery: Stalked — someone is watching is at your doorstep.
He constantly calls and chats on endlessly which takes a good chunk of your time. He gropes you like you are a ripe mango he would like to swallow whole. Then it turns really ugly, the phone calls at any hour of day or night are amplified, he parks his car outside your apartment with its lights on and waits like a predator getting ready to pounce, you get harassing s.
You decide to ignore him and he eventually stops his nonsense and vanishes from your life. You will be in charge of the funding, he in charge of negotiation. He relishes in the fact that you are permitting him airtime, and he uses that to his advantage. You get turned off by listening to his grown-ass self constantly complain about his bills and expectations for you to shoulder his rent, food and clothes. After all, wewe ni dame wa majuu… the lady from the diaspora. Obviously, you are unwilling and unable to slide into the role of cougar. Boy Bye! There are those well-meaning European bachelors who have felines as their housemates and are so ready to settle down with a human.
You foresee heartbreak and are about done with waking up at 4 am to stare in the darkness and think angry thoughts about past relationships that went awry. Thus you deactivate your s and hand everything over to your Creator. You swipe right …to serving Him with all your heart because you love Him and He is worthy of your praise and adoration.
You swipe right …to advancing His Kingdom because you would love to see your relatives and friends come to the knowledge of His saving grace. You swipe right …to being a kind person, to accepting you are already whole and need not be completed by another. You swipe right …to being content in every situation, whether or not Mr Right comes to be by your side. You swipe right… to walking upright before Him because your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit. It might seem like it is a jungle out there. Add technology, a changing and evolving society and people get completely overwhelmed!
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Mr. Right: How Can You Know?