Clingy girl problems: 5 main problems

Image result for black couple in black and white

Picture gotten from-Pinterest

Clingy girls often wonder how girls that spend weeks and months away from their men survive. Other times they question why some girls that claim to be in love are so attached to privacy. How these other girls don’t talk about their men to their friends or even family, they ponder on what a few girls view as normal.

I was once a clingy girl, I bought into the idea that one has to think about their man like he were their favourite food, that every single time kind of thinking. It was more like craving someone when they aren’t there and even more when they are present. Being clingy made me less gullible to and very repellent of other men. It made me believe in soul mates. It made me believe in being in love.

Transiting from clinginess however, taught me one or two things about myself, it helped me understand men and at the same time understand the importance of space in any given relationship.

Here’s a list of problems you may find with a clingy girl;

  1. A girl who is clingy may befriend everything of yours ranging from what you love doing to what you find unbearable. She may want to be friends with all your friends and family members. She may want to be involved in your hobbies as well.
  2. A clingy girl is very inquisitive. She’d like to know what, why, when, how and where you get involved with things. This may not necessarily be in a bad way but most times it is her own way of caring and looking out for you.
  3. She may be impossibly into you and may seldom feel a bit left out when you prioritize something you enjoy doing or other people you enjoy hanging out with over her.
  4. If you’re in it with a clingy girl you may eventually realize how gradually your lives begin to intertwine. Your daily routine may begin to revolve around hers as she may eat deeply into yours with time. You both will have five or more things only you both are peculiar with (may be a phrase, code, people, places or even slangs).
  5. A clingy girl finds it okay to invade your privacy (as in her head, what’s yours is hers).

Most men may find these problems as no problem in the start of a relationship however, most are often worn out after they realize that their girl may not necessarily stop being herself. Although clingy girls are hardly talked out of their relationships and are mostly trustworthy and open minded, they may on the long run become toxic to their men. This toxicity may be caused by the accumulation of lies and unnecessary fights brewed by their men in order to have their own space and avoid being suffocated.

Some clingy girls repel their men in future and may often push them to derive excitement from staying clear from them which may not necessarily happen with the intention to hurt them.

Being clingy is one good way to stay in love but it is also important to enjoy your own space and build in it when in a relationship.

Have you ever been a clingy girl? or do you think you currently can relate to some of these problems? Is your girl clingy? I’d love to know what you’re thinking in the comment section dear reader. I’d love you to add to the list as well if you are aware of any more problems. Thank you.

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2017.

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Struggling out of a 2:2 this final year: my Biomedical Science tale

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I barely bore you with events of my university life on here but I know once in a while I drop one or two major ones. Going back to 2015, my first year, I had blogged about my resits (What if? #17), how awful it felt to had seen my name amongst those resitting Genetics and Statistics. How sad and unlucky my summer was. What I didn’t include was calling my parents and letting them know about the situation. The disappointment in their tone as they spoke to me whilst trying to be good parents and not make me feel worse about the whole situation, the after effect of the whole conversation moved me. I guess my attitude towards everything relating to university and my course became more questionable as days, months and years went by.

Second year was heavy. As my course is a three-year course here in the UK, more pressure was mounted on me and more effort was equally demanded with the load that came with the 12 modules I had done last year. The hustle to secure a placement made it even worse but that wasn’t an excuse not to scale through. At the end of the year, I was awoken yet again by another resit which until today I have managed to  hide from my parents as I felt they would be bitter and really angry towards me if I had told them. Genetics again! At some point in time I joked about it to my friends, telling them how I’m “KINGING” in genetics resit zone. What felt terrible isn’t the fact that I had a resit, what made me break down most nights was the fact that 2:2 ends up being my portion even when I always seem to start off very well at the beginning of each semester. At some point, I just stopped asking why and accepted that university wasn’t for me. Thoughts of dropping out kicked in every now and then but the friends in my circle kept me grounded. They said my prayers with me, cried with me and most of all, they contributed to my healing and strength which led me into pursuing my final year.

It’s the 25th of February today, 22 weeks into final year and there is still no salvaging to my results so far. It hasn’t been stable and at the same time it hasn’t been the most brilliant. One half of my project and most of my course works released so far have been fluctuating with 2:1’s and 2:2’s. My first semester results came out and this time Genetics crossed the cut off point with only 7 marks and I’m most grateful to God for that miracle! the other paper sat comfortably on a 2:1 which to me is gracious. Hard-work and resilience have been with me since the school year started and to be honest with you,  it is a struggle trying to move up from a 2:2. I am 3 weeks into second semester  with 3 more course works, 4 more exams and my main project to finish. I am still with hope and so should you who is reading this thinking you’re sitting in the worst position or situation in life.

If everyone was equal, there wouldn’t be no school, no competition whatsoever and definitely no evolution but other people’s success shouldn’t stall us from ours or blind us from attaining  unmeasurable success instead it should push us.

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I did tweet this last week but it doesn’t mean I can’t do better. In fact it is not an excuse! It is the reason why I’m pushing to move on from a 2:2, proving to myself that even if it’s not for me, it is definitely not impossible!

I hope you find a grip too and go on from there dear reader. Do leave your thoughts and comments in the box below. Thank you.

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2017.

Blogging series 6: Never have I ever

by Dyna Ekwueme

Image result for running away

Picture gotten from-Runningaway

WRITTEN FOR THE THINGS AND PEOPLE I LUSTED FOR

Being vulnerable about my fantasies and sexual cravings for certain kinds of profane words and touch that emits all kinds of vibrations in my writing. Never have I ever been found writing about my wants for  someone else, someone who doesn’t want me, someone who probably thinks I don’t exist. The hypnosis of my feelings, like a spree cursed by a god.

WRITTEN FOR THE THINGS I GAINED FROM PAIN 

The writer’s block I get every now and then, fleeing from my blog like I’m all about that busy life. I wouldn’t write about the long piles of unpublished posts in my draft which has me thinking “I’m not good enough for me”. The resits people don’t see but praise me for as a university girl. The pain and struggle behind it all tends to be hidden in what appears to be like “she’s doing okay” to you.

WRITTEN FOR THE PEOPLE WHO NEED THIS WRITING

With self-obsessive writing blinding me, I fail to write for those who need their voices projected, for those who look up to words to heal them, for those who are not educated and need their tears sent to the government, parliament, leaders, charity organizations and philanthropic bodies through my writing. Never have I ever written enough for change, for love for others, for unity, for development and for substance of evolution.

Part 2 contributed by Emediong Etetim

WRITTEN FOR THE LIFE I WISH I HAD
Everyone feels they understand the level of pain or frustration I’m in. To them, only my feet is touching the water. To me, only my head is above the water. Never have my words been understood but rather misconstrued. Now to live a life where it is okay to not have to explain myself at every turn is all I crave to have.

Disclaimer: This piece was originally written by me and part contributed by Emediong Etetim. No one else had contributed to this piece. 

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2016.

 

 

Blogging series 6: Public appraisal

by Emediong Etetim

In the world where your life is being judged by your online content, where you do not have an interesting day if it isn’t posted on snapchat or your style sense isn’t on par if you do not have a crisp photo on Instagram showing off your latest designer purchase. It is not very surprising that self validation is also being set by twitter’s standards.

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Picture gotten from-Pixabay

In the world where trends are to be followed in order to stay relevant, where everyone’s mind is now programmed to think alike, to act alike, if you do not know the latest music releases, the latest celebrity couples and their cats, the most recent dance moves, or you’re not sporting the pointiest eyeliner, then “girl you tripping”. And you’d sit and wonder whatever happened to ‘uniqueness’.

The words ‘different’, ‘special’, ‘unique’ are all slowly getting lost in our dictionary. Everyone doing all they can to stay relevant even if it means morphing into carbon copies of already existing duplicates. Everyone trying to standout as a clone that they are forgetting that a photocopy will always remain just a mediocre of the original.

We’re all walking, talking faceless ‘ordinaries’ allowing ‘relevance’ to draw patterns unto us as they deem fit, still lacking distinction regardless.

To those who have managed to stay true, and self aware…

Part 2 contributed by Dyna Ekwueme

To those who don’t fall for mediocrity and cliché of existing contents and lifestyle. To those who don’t fit in the stereotypes displayed by the society and pressure exerted by peers and the  outside world that can’t see through their walls. This is not for you.

I want to speak my mind. I want to be free like that little child, be open to learning new things and absorbing the differences in us that shapes our inner minds. I want to be feared by my fears, put what matters first and not what appears to be important. I want to love not for the fashion or looks or the utterances made by jealous minds. I want to care less about the public, be humbled by little beginnings and fight for those who can’t find strength within them, yet I still crave to act otherwise because it’s what the public wants. That is the better way I believe the public can better appraise me. What a mess!

Do you write for your sake or that of the others?

Can you atone for the times you failed to recognize what could have been better? Is it ego or is it just us who are slowly dying from what the world has thrown at us? How much more are you willing to let out before you tell the real story behind how far you’ve come? where do you recognize as home? Here or there?

Disclaimer: This post was originally written and inspired by Emediong Etetim and part contributed by me. There was no third party to this collaboration.

Find out more about Emediong ( For lifestyle, fashion and real  life collaborations) on

Stylepith.com

IG- @em.etetim

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2016.

Blogging series 4: Forest of Promise

by Aiidee Sinclair

I was on my way to Bonny Island to see a relative. We had boarded a ship and sailed off. After about 35 mins we heard fired gunshots. 

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Picture gotten from-Thailand

“what is the problem?” I asked one of the cabin crew.” our ship is under attack by a group of gangsters ” a man I could I tell from his voice was in great panic answered.

“what?!” I screamed on top of my voice with my heart throbbing aloud.

“Please Mr. help me! they are after me” said the most beautiful and gorgeous girl I have ever seen, crying by the end of the ship just close to the entrance of the main door.

I wasn’t in my right thinking as I forgot for a moment that we were in a great deal of danger. Her natural beauty got me. I finally decided to help, as what else was there to do when we were under attack by the unknown. As I pulled her up from the ground, she seemed frightened and had given me a distrustful look.

“What is happening? what offence did you commit? was it you who had caused this attack?” I asked furiously not minding if she had answers to it or not. It felt like such a nightmare. ” I was about to be smuggled into a world that doesn’t exist, I had escaped before my abductors knew what was next”  she replied with a hasty look. 

“boss! there she is” A man with a huge jaw beard appeared from behind her. She turned,  pointing at the three hefty men with large figures and a mean lookwalking towards us with the man I had seen at first, screaming 

“please Mr. help me! those men are after me”, I quickly grabbed her by her hand  and began running towards the front of the ship not knowing where this will eventually lead us.

“There is no other option than for us to jump as many of the crew had done” I said softly to her when we got to the front top of the ship. She didn’t hesitate but jumped off the ship. I followed swiftly. We swam for what seemed like an eternity until I passed out….

we found ourselves at the shore of the sea surrounded by thick green forests….

To be continued…

Disclaimer: This piece was originally written by Aiidee Sinclair and this is one of the media he chose to share his fictional prose. No parts were added by me or anyone. 

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2016.

 

Necessities of a less active blogger

As there are more people who blog part-time and during their leisure than those who blog as a full time job, there are essentials that can help you post whenever you’re ready, if you’re one of the former. Not necessarily blogging after 6 months or a year but frequently as it keeps you engaged with your beautiful thoughts and your audience whilst away from your website.

Picture gotten from-Teaandblog

Here are three key necessities I’ve picked out and collectively, I use them to stay active outside my blog.

  • Writing material/ Implement– This is anything ranging from a pen and paper , to sketch pads, phones/gadgets or even jotters that you can conveniently carry around with you, just in case inspiration strikes anywhere. I conveniently use Notes on my phone to write down and describe briefly what it is that comes to my head. This can also come in handy when writing a totally different piece as you can refer to your material/ implement.
  • Camera– As the world keeps developing, more people are becoming visual learners as they can read more meaning and put words together just by looking at pictures. You may not consider this a necessity but you should know that images go a long way to help you remember scenarios. It captures the moment, telling you “what” and “where” and sometimes even  “when”. This can then help you recollect memories and add new ideas to what you intend on posting. Cameras can come in form of mobile phones (which of course should have an in-built camera) or an actual camera which you can get online or in stores at affordable prices.
  • Reminder-Let’s all call this the “motivational piece”. Procrastination is one sting that we all have and refuse to get an antidote for, so, having a reminder can push us to post our short-saved thoughts and ideas. You can either set an alarm/(s), tick a date on your calendar, tell a friend to remind you, jot it down somewhere or save your notes on your drafts to help tell you when to publish. There is no universal reminder I can recommend than to do/use what works best for you.

I believe these essentials are necessary for someone who blogs less but thinks more. If there are anymore that you can think of,  I’d like you to air your opinion in the comment box below. Thank you.

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2016.

 

My Body Remembers: a post on Domestic Violence

For some who see confrontation as another war, pain is their safe haven.

Picture gotten from-JenniferLeigh

Giving people another chance can be your deepest weakness especially when you’ve tied love, fear and being alone as your reason. Sometimes our culture, religion, society and believes hold us down, people too. Often, confiding in someone becomes what is best fitted and not what the worst case scenario may be, as you only give in bits and pieces of what seem to be an endless fight for you. Loneliness could sometimes be your resort as you don’t want these other people judging and cursing you for remaining.

Woman, Man, this is for you. You, who go through hell in those walls I don’t see. You, who choose to love even when it’s been stripped off of its pure nature and presented bitter. You, who blame yourself for another’s mess  and go into depression and anxiety for feeling less understood and undervalued. I write for the man/woman seeking a god for change each time another chance is given to your oppressor. The man/woman held by ethics to embrace brutality and self-harm of many kinds.

Look at those defining scars. Listen to your own resistance, how it bleeds. Measure up how much you’ve endured, the time you wished ticked faster and the throbbing of your heart each time you attempt to hold back. You are bold to have endured. You are strong to have stayed. Your tear bags are however running out.

Resonate. It’s not too late if you’re reading this. Here’s a sign that there is hope.

The therapy you need starts with you walking away love. I encourage you, the world that doesn’t support this does too. You are valued and you are loved, not by the people that cause you pain neither is it by the toxic river you’re drowning in, but by a better world waiting for you out here.

Dear Man,

Dear Woman,

No matter how rigid you may be, how discreet you may hide the scars, your body will always remember. It will tell.

#SayNoToDomesticViolence

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2016.

 

Yellow

In memory of a sweet moment adopted by a black naive girl.

Picture gotten from-Blackandyellow

I can’t write from much happiness as the moment is always too overwhelming. Praises upon praises of self gratitude and understanding of one self beyond spaces meant for queens. As for those who fought wars they always won in places where they were less accepted and more accepting of, this is also for you.

They talked about colours, the spectrum, describing people of various beliefs by it. These were my kind of conversations, less filthy and more of good profanity. It was gray yet filled with so much nature. You can nearly lose touch with reality in that place, they said. Mother of unbroken hearts and virgins with so much innocence filled to the brim in its delight. Ignorant yet filled with so much wisdom that could bring elite people to their knees. There was a sense of power and emotions in their talks. I was intrigued.

What do I mean to you?  If days were years would you wait until the last for me?  Sometimes we choose to redefine the meaning of love. We twitch our own notions to please us and keep us from feeling that our hearts are going the wrong way. Do you also get that kind of feeling? One which is not enough? Sometimes we want the other to think the way we think or even more. We become illusionists.

I stayed there too long wandering why you had made me feel so comfortable at the same time feeling unease about some things I can’t change about the way you spoke. I thought of your conscience, where you had pocketed them. How it is that you feel less after a while. I listened more to the other colours they had described whilst thinking about you. At that point it didn’t feel good anymore. I wanted to listen and think more but I began to feel a soft ray on my skin, it felt warm, forcing my eyelids to open.

The conversation, the people and the events were all in my thoughts, I had made them up. I was by myself but I truly wasn’t. The best part of it all was seeing the last colour consciously, yellow. Sun. Whether you think it’s triggered by experiences or mere imaginations, I just wrote to set myself free. Truth

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2016.

Purgatory

A poem of thorns pinned on bed of roses

Picture gotten fromElectricshadow

The growth of fear began in guilt,

well polished and hidden by lies.

Only those who feel for you,

read meaning into your choice of how you wish to pray.

Sacred.

I met a stranger,

I met her lost in thoughts of how she chose love over power,

how she neither sang nor danced with her lover.

The existence of crisis without Christ, how rhetorical it was.

Meanwhile,

I kept busy.

Ignoring the help that was needed from me,

The excuses for not reading the holy book pilled up.

“You only live once”, words enough for the foolish.

I made my own rules for the new era.

The peoples’ people era.

“Show me more of that dance! Kill me with profanity!”

“speak in pagan tongues love, that’s the only language I hear”.

The other world is coming soon,

unprepared as we all are in a hurry to live whilst living.

I imagine atonement sometimes, the impatience to be found worthy

the suspense of hell or paradise. Not so serene, is it?

What is  this place? Who can bail  me? What could I have done better on earth? Who am I now?

Now.

I found inspiration in fear, love and in meditation. I also thought of this place

where they hibernate,

where three languages are spoken in the same mother tongue.

If only we saw what’s coming before it came,

redirecting the pointing-fingers to ourselves,

refraining from judging.

If only we knew of this place, if it exists or not.

We’d be dining with God.

Tell me more about purgatory, but not here.

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2016.

 

Surviving May June

In all, pleasure sorted itself out in dark corners. I had promised my failures that we wouldn’t cross paths again. My timetable never said otherwise. I lost the weak ones. Those who couldn’t keep up with the wind that came after my very own air. I lost friends, made new ones, met him and kept detesting red and black cars. Only lonely knew me, only in that place did I transcend. I survived the wreck of friendships, jealousy and choky presence.

Picture gotten fromTurtlesandTails

May.

How did I let it all go?

Life has a way of measuring our good deeds and sewing them back in bit-by-bit in places and times we least expect.

How did I come to accept?

I forgave my wrongs. I set myself free from my own trap. I held onto the light I hadn’t seen yet. It kept me going. It still is.

Moments?

I had one where I was rejected nine times, never gave up, waited on the last but yet, it still rejected me. Placements were hard to secure, but I did my best applying. I had one where I was hunted by colours, the ones I once loved, owned by people I once loved in a city I’m still totally in love with. I had moments where I crept. School toilets and my bed became more consoling than crowded rooms. I became my own people, more with myself and less of myself with non-appreciative people. Loving and loving the hell out of me.

Exam timetable wasn’t a shock, the distribution of modules in it was.

June. 

I’ve never believed in being a geek myself, as I do believe in others. I read through nights and nights and crammed those recommended textbooks through days I’d rather my cosy attic room. I was asked more than once “where’s your life?”, I ignored wandering how they couldn’t see it happening. School became life. It still is. At some point, I found myself in conversations where I turned social dialogues into what I’ve been learning and reading for the past one year. I started eating an apple, green banana and grapes each passing day as I learnt it reduces your risk of getting bowel cancer whilst avoiding trans fat foods and eating a wide variety of foods. * Okay now I’m doing it again on this post*

When you begin to see yourself that way, you begin to feel more, not just about the idea of school but of the existence you can bring from all that you’ve learnt. It’s a beautiful feeling. Learning, practicing and being able to teach others.

Summer?

For me, I feel as though it isn’t here yet. Been working 12 hours shifts from the friday I wrote my last examination until this very moment that I’m taking a break in a care home. Care assistant.

I’ve thought of dying more than I have of surviving lately, that is why I’ve decided to leave with a purpose, no matter how small.

I just started living.

Tell me what you have survived lately dear reader.

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2016.