Hi there! First of all, thank you so much for coming! I am so happy to have you here. Welcome to my blog, I hope that as you get to know me a little bit better, you’ll find a little of yourself in me.
This kind of feels like a first date. No pressure, but I have thought of you the whole time I’ve been drafting this. I’ve wondered which part of me to bring here and which part to soften, and ultimately, I come back to the simple but difficult conclusion to just be myself.
I should tell you that the way to my heart is to tell me uncomfortable and hard truths in a tactful way; yes! It’s that simple. Reader, I love sincerity. I subconsciously search for it in every conversation, and I am energized by it, this explains most of my strongest relationships.
I write for anyone who cares to read but especially for those who have been humiliated and wanted to hide away, those who have kept smiling as their throats were closing up, and those who have felt frozen in fear and shame. In short, I write for all of us at one point or the other, and I write because it’s the only way I can reach you.
I currently stay in Boston, and I am originally from the West of Johannesburg, Carletonville, in a very small township called Wedela. Growing up, I wasn’t into a lot of extra-curricular activities (I sucked at most of them, lol) but I did love debate.
I was raised in a nuclear family; I am the youngest of three and the only daughter. This was until my mother had to move away from our primary home for work, and I was left to my dad’s care along with my two older brothers. While my home life was okay, my school life was desolate, and I dreaded every day of going to school. The memories of being bullied about my faith practices, my looks, lower social class, and the appearance of my worn school clothes are all powerful memories because it was the first time my spirit and heart were truly broken. For most of my primary years, I felt ugly, dirty, wrong and unwanted, even by God. It didn’t help that I was going back to a home that seemed to have no protection, instead, home felt like a place which cemented those views.
Both my parents were of the Mormon faith, a faith I practice till this day, and our way was to always to be kind, charitable and definitely not say any ‘unkind words’. I do suspect if I had learned to be vulgar earlier, I would’ve apprehended being bullied and saved tons of time in adulthood falling victim to random sprouts of tears at triggers of my formative years. Alas…
That being said, I have had many wonderful and bounteous things happen to me over the course of my life, and I consider myself blessed in so many ways. I give you my context so that you know where I’m coming from, and if I lose you in this relationship, you can say “at least she’s honest”.
My intention is to make you laugh/cry as we tackle some big stuff. Some things I write about are places I can take you only if you’ve ever been. For now, I only ask that you please stay for the whole feast, even if you are still unsure about the broccoli.
Mbali
Mbali’s Not So Secret Diary 