I have been meaning to talk about this for the longest but I didn’t know how to write it. So here it goes….
If you have read my other blog posts you will already know a bit about me. Today I am going to share more. At the age of about 1 year old, my biological Father ran away from my mum and I. He left us in quite a sticky situation. But the Lord got us through it . The person who I call Dad now came into my life when I was about 3 years old. It started off as he was ‘uncle’ then he eventually became ‘daddy’…I know a bit weird trust me I was confused too. I knew he wasn’t my biological Father but he looked after me like his own so no questions were asked.
Further down the line my Dad and Mum had children (my Dad is Nigerian and my Mum is from Ghana). Some Nigerian family members would treat me different compared to my sisters…. I don’t believe it was intentional but I knew deep down that I was the odd one out. Sometimes I felt like running away because I felt like no one understood me. I could be in a house full of people and feel so lonely. This is where the deep anger and unforgiveness for my biological father started. I would say things like’ if he didn’t run away I wouldn’t have to deal with this’. I remember one time someone went as far as to say I should change my surname so I can properly be part of the family.
Even though I had different Dads to my sisters we have the same Mum so I didn’t see them as half sibilings. There was times I would treat my sisters as my own children. You may ask why ? The truth is I was scared… scared of my sisters rejecting me so I tried to do the most for them. Love them, protect them and provide for them as much as I could . The problem is there was this secret still in the air . They didn’t know we had different Fathers. Growing up people would ask why my younger sisters had different surnames compared to me. Sometimes I would explain to the person when my sisters weren’t around or just ignore the comment if the person was a stranger. One time my youngest sister asked randomly …”do we have the same Dad”. I looked at her and froze. I didn’t know what to say so I said nothing and changed the subject. I felt like it wasn’t my place to say.
But recently something happened that shocked me so much. My worst fear came to pass …exactly how I saw it in a dream a while ago. I cried for days because I couldn’t believe what happened. I started feeling like I wasn’t a good sister (which was a lie). I spoke to a few people and they encouraged me and I am better now. I believe it was a test, to see what I would do it one of my sisters rejected me. Would I run back to my old ways of dealing with pain and hurt or run to God. Luckily I passed the test. I am not going to lie and say it was easy… one night I was crying so much I picked up my phone and I was so close to watching something I shouldn’t. But I remembered how it used to make me it feel afterwards, basically the conviction was so strong. So I picked up my phone but instead I called a friend, we prayed together and I eventually slept off.
I am writing this to tell you that sometimes in life hurtful things will happen. Somethings you will understand and some you won’t. You can end up meeting your worst fear face to face and you will not be able to run away from it. The only thing you can do is take responsibility for the way you react to it and deal with it. Life is a mixture of tests and you have to prove yourself nearly every day. I am stronger than I have ever been and it’s due to me not leaning on my own understanding and trusting in God (in both the good and bad times). You only have two choices to be a slave to the world (and your emotions) or to be a son or daughter of the Lord. I made the right choice and I will never look back.
Being the odd one out , left me with so much doubt
Roaming about, looking for acceptance
Luckily I found a King , so no more wondering
Captured by his love, oh the joys of repentance
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