Three weeks planned for two years gone forever.

Bang. Click. The sound of the door slamming shut, followed by a twist of the key locking. He finally let the rest of the tears free – flowing down his face straight to the floor to join countless pieces of a broken mug.

 

The mug, in its initial stages of life, was part of a special gift for his boyfriend. Birth day. Joyous. Just a week ago.

Fuck! What did just happen? How did I get here? His boyfriend, with answers to those questions was gone. Out the door back to his fictional life.

Bang. Click. The door shut behind him.

It had been three weeks of harmony. Three sets of seven days day dreamed for two years. The plan, developed over two years, was for his boyfriend to find service and the two of them to live happily ever after. They would love each other to eternity. Breaks to endless sex. Hobbies shared. Marriage.

A perfect plan.

 

It was meant to unfold two years foregoing to the three weeks of harmony. Distance stood still. Miles between the two different provinces they each called home were an unmovable hurdle. They ran somewhat a successful relationship making use of text and digits. Facebook. WhatsApp. Email.

Turned out outrageously wrong.

 

He made a breakthrough, a result of sleepless nights working towards a dream. Landed a decent job; another successful step of his career. Naturally, he saw it fit to help out his boyfriend.

Distance varnished.

 

Two years of frustrating planning was now all worth it. They were loving each other to eternity. Breaks to endless sex. Hobbies shared. Marriage.

N.O.T

 

It lasted for three weeks. The love was interrupted by doubts. They were both not so good in endless sex. Arguments so frequent they resembled hobbies.

Break up.

 

A careless mistake led to appalling revelations. His boyfriend never loved him.  Pretence. His boyfriend told lies. Deception. His boyfriend was not his boyfriend. Bogus identity.

Cheated. Used. Fucked.

 

Bang. Click. The door slammed, shutting out three weeks planned for two years.

Gone forever.

 

I fed my trust to jealousy infested snakes and con artists disguised as boyfriends.

 

Like a gifted prophet my mother foresaw it a long time ago.

Like a naïve little boy I took her wise words for granted.

Now, a million heartbreaks and countless failed relationships later, I look back to what my mother told me.

She said:

“No one, absolutely no one, in this whole world, other than family and God, will ever have your best interests at heart. When you feel like my love and comfort and guidance are insufficient, kneel down and seek more from God.”

In my life I have met so many wonderful people…or at least I thought they were. I became friends with the most convincing back stabbers. I trusted snakes infested by the plague of jealousy and I fell in love with serial cheating con artists disguised as loving and faithful boyfriends.

They came into my life; I allowed them into the depths of my heart. I trusted them, not only with my valuable materials but with the most valuable components of my being.

I don’t learn do I?

I mean three attempts by three different people to crush my most hard earned possessions should be enough to wake me up, right?

One tried, and later partly succeeded in driving the one man I’ve ever loved away from me. That man, in turn, tried to tarnish my dignity and crumple my confidence to an unrecognisable blur of strange emotions. The third made an almost successful attempt to burst one of my dreams.

Wait, there is a fourth one – the one that tried to steal my identity and turn everyone against me. That didn’t go far though. Very few can imitate my realness.

With just a month of 2013 to go, a chunk of my trust has been, once again, crumbled and another friend gone.

Deja vu.

Something similar happens each year.  This year was pretty intense though – the “love of my life” made a very noticeable exit leaving me with question marks to fill his absence in my future.

Then another prominent  feature in my life smacked me across the face with a rock hard lesson. A lesson of trust; a reminder that trust it too precious to just disseminate so carelessly. The messed up part is that my mother had oh-so gently given me this lesson, long before I had to learn the hard way.

Perhaps the problem lies on my too trusting nature. Perhaps it’s my kindness or maybe my choice to always grant people the benefit of a doubt?

I don’t know. But I’m happy to announce that my pride is still intact, my love still as strong as ever and my ambition is very much alive.

All I’m left with to do is to strengthen my trust and apply it to God and to Him alone.

 

She’s a boy, he’s a girl and together they are L.O.V.E

“Who fucks who?”

                                          “Which one is a girl?”

                     “They are both so girly! How does it work?”

   “What is your role in the relationship?”

www.autostraddle.com

Some of the super annoying questions that have been asked to me and my fellow trannies regarding our relationships.  

*sigh*  

Coming from a box minded member of the heterosexual bunch these questions are kind of tolerable. I mean, if you grow up in a community where your entire existence is questioned, you sort of get used to such nonsense.

BUT!

If another gay person is gonna start asking such questions about another gay person – shit gets ma-jor!

I have been trying sooooo hard to ignore it but it’s becoming too prominent. While the heterosexuals are drawing lines between female acceptable norms and male acceptable norms, gays are busy pasting labels on what’s masculine (or supposed to be) and femininity.

WTF!

Though this is kind of funny and almost too stupid, it does make my pink blood boil a little. In a world where minorities (gays being one of those groups) are oppressed solely for being different, wouldn’t it make a bit of sense for the minorities to stick together? Or at least understand and, oh gawd, tolerate each other? Or even maybe embrace each other’s differences?

According to me, it would.  But to…

-          Those so called ‘straight acting’ homosexuals discriminating against effeminate gay boys,

-          Those raving queens looking for butch boys to treat them like women,

-          Those little whores,  fags, gay boys whose priority should be their school books, but the next shag from another manly man is more important,

…none of that makes any sense. To them, no broken wrist should love another broken wrist – not in that way. They wonder how two majorly feminine trannies make love, how two fems run a successful romantic relationship.

 

 

The simplest definition of homosexual is:  a person who is sexually attracted to members of the same sex (not that being gay is all about sex: please be educated). To further simplify it, this means a boy that prefers to be intimate (sexually and emotionally) with another boy.
Oh, it does also apply to girls.

Now, how did femininity and masculinity come about? Why complicate things by adding ideal characteristics to each party of a homosexual union? I mean, gay people are generally misunderstood, so why all the complications?

Let me tell you: love is love. Sex is sex. Genitals are genitals. It really doesn’t matter what kind of body they are attached to or come from. Really, it doesn’t. As long as all these are utilised appropriately – we are good.

Okay? Thank you! Bye!

P.S: Tell me a story of any gay person that has ever questioned a relationship between two “straight acting” gay people.

I am back! Yes! Again!

I know its kinds shocking how long I've been gone. But I am BACK!

Goodness! It’s been exactly seven months since my last post! If that’s not embarrassing, I don’t know what is. I mean, not even my recent break up could have been this heart breaking!

Anyways,

I am back! No, really I am. Quite a lot has happened in my life since that last post.

I got a new job – a dream job at that (not quite), moved out of my mother’s house (phew!), graduated (yay!), enrolled for my Master’s Degree (honestly), broke up with The Papi (I’m no longer sad about it), my business started picking up pace (so excited about that)  and…and…and I am sooooo gonna post about it all!

Stick around and we will have fun darlings!

Oh, welcome back to moi!

<3

Marcia - the girl who lives in me.

Marcia is the kind of girl who is totally unapologetic about voicing what floats around in her fluffy brain. Words such as “bitch” and “fuck” are prominent features of her vocabulary. She is not scared to tell you go away when you start to annoy her. In most cases her irritation will be caused by your bad hair day, your chipped nails AND your hot mess outfit.

A girl with no makeup is beyond her understanding. Anyone in grasshoppers can forget about getting a second look from her.

Marcia lives in me. Sometimes she manifests at very odd times. Her presence is mostly felt in public transport and too many times before, she has got me in a lot of trouble.

A bucket list of 100 things to do before I die

BFFs Part II

Gosh! I just remembered that I promised that I’d give you a low down on the dynamics of my friendship with Wanda and Randy. You must have turned to mould from all the waiting right?

Ours is the kind of friendship that was planned long before our birth. The way we connect, understand each other and stick out for one another is just amazing – totally beyond words!

I met Wanda seven years ago while I was still in high school. My first impression of him was that he is stuck up and a bit of a nerd. He was always so reserved and walking on his own. Till this day, I still cringe when I think of how much I misperceived him!

Wanda is the most welcoming, selfless and loving human being that has ever entered my zone. I initially had a crush on him. I am always interested in the mysterious types – I have an irresistible urge to uncover the unknown on a first hand basis.

Thank goodness my quest to make him my boyfriend did not succeed! Today Wanda and I share something that no power couple could ever achieve; unconditional love coupled with tremendous care for each other that is almost brother-to-bother like. Sometimes I firmly believe that he is the brother that my mother secretly gave up for adoption.

Not a million words can ever express how much I am grateful to have him as a part of my life. He has been with me during the most trying times of my life, helped me through them and celebrated my successes with me.

Wanda & I

 Then there is Randy, whom I met three years ago through Wanda. A sweet soul hailing from East London on the Eastern Cape, Randy is the kind of a friend that would do absolutely anything to ensure a smile on my face. I have never met such a caring person in my life (my mother is an exception, of course).

I thank God and Wanda’s ex boyfriend for bringing Randy to my life! Randy came to Cape Town in search for a better job. The fact that he had been in a long distance relationship with Wanda’s ex boyfriend’s best friend was a bonus. Finally, he would get to live closer to his long time sweetheart.

Unfortunately, things did not work out and he found comfort in mine and Wanda’s arms, which he would later return with so much love, appreciation and extreme loyalty.

Quite honestly, I cannot begin to imagine my life without these two amazing friends. How we get along is amazing even to me.  A complete retard can tell at first glance how different we are from each other from the way each of us dresses to the kind of music we each enjoy. However, we have this amazing ability to fuse our differences together to form this wonderful friendship that nothing on this earth can compare to.

Randy & I

I will forever be grateful to God for blessing me with such beautiful friends.

My BIG fat dream...

I own Mary Kate Olsen’s entire wardrobe, I have a head full of unruly curly hair and I am cheating on my husband, Zakes Bantwini with Kanye West.

I don’t have a real job; I make a living from partying – people, organisations and governmental departments pay me really good money to make an appearance at their parties. I shop from all the top boutiques to kill time and on my free time; I get my facials nails done at Elixir Spar.

......

Well that’s just a fantasy I like to absorb myself in when the reality sucks, which is every other second day. But really, my big fat dream is my online retail store fully fledged with customers all over the country (or, makes that the world). I no longer regret having spent four years of my life studying for a qualification in a field that I am not entirely passionate about. I also do not really care that I spent another four years trying to carve a career in the same field.

All those years, have prepared me for my ultimate destination; fashion. Not only do I own this highly successful store, I also do publicity and media relation for fashion brands on a consulting basis.

I am married to the love of my life, we have a Chihuahua and will live happily ever after!

Hey lovers! Please excuse the silence :)

No. I did not die. I haven’t lost my passion for blogging and I have not been suffering from a two months long writer's block.

The reason for my absence from the blogosphere has been my challenging job and my equally demanding studies. However, I am extremely happy to announce that next week, I will be submitting my thesis, meaning an end to my studies! Phew! That’s if I pass all the gruelling courses.

So yeah, I will have more time to do thing that I actually enjoy; blogging, youtubing, tweeting, facebooking and all things online!

Conventional is a good fallback position, isn’t it?

Sometimes he wears a turban, accentuates his soft features with ethnic jewelry. His feminine figure is best defined in his skinny jeans. With his nerdy glasses and scruffy beard it creates somewhat an unusual look.   The one that attracts puzzled stares and amused giggles.  As he applies his eyeliner, he is convinced it’s going to be a good day.

A day lined with judgmental whispers, hurting remarks, disgusted glances and angry curses – it’s still a good day. At least he managed to keep his smile intact.

He could have avoided the unfortunate reality by confirming to its demands. He could have bought their acceptance by living the definition of the norm.

After all, conventional is a good fallback position, isn’t it?

Why is it normal for girls to wrap their head is doeks and line their eyes?

You cannot chase two rabbits at the same time

This is one of the topics I have been assigned to post on as part of my Media Studies course. Again, I disagree. So I will not waste my time and Google stories that contradict with pursuing two goals at the same time.

We all know that this is possible. In fact almost everyone in my class is a living proof of that. I mean, as part time students, we are all working toward obtaining a qualification to advance our education while ensuring that our careers are on point at the same time.

Though they are closely aligned, these are two different goals. Right?

Trust is like a mirror, you can fix it once broken but the cracks remain on reflection.

I have not been around this world long enough to dub myself an expert in relationship matters. However, I do believe that I have gained more than enough experience to know that trust and transparency are key to successful unions, be it with friends or spouses. 

Through all the relationships that I have been (and still) a part of I have learnt that the only thing that kept me around is my trust for that certain individual. Some relationship ended badly and the root of the split was always the violation of my trust.

spellscasting.blogspot.com

I’ve had to let go of friends because I could no longer trust them due to their choices in life. Some of them had to face the exit because they betrayed their loyalty by simply not living up to their promises. Once I was in a relationship with someone that I thought I could trust with my life. I bared my soul to him. Okay, maybe not really my soul but I invested so much faith in him that I decided to over look his flaws, a lot of them.

The revelation of his monkey business did not really come as a surprise, the signs were always visible. But I had taught myself to trust him. Even after he betrayed me, I thought I could still make it work so I stuck around. Because the traces of the mess he had created could not be easily erased, the relationship snowballed to a sticky, never ending muddle of accusations, fights and tears. Eventually, I had to let go.

Lady Gaga once said, “Trust is like a mirror, you can try to fix it once broken. But you will always see the cracks on your reflection.” Or was it Beyonce? Whatever! But that statement is true in every respect. Trust is the most precious and most sensitive possession. It requires tender care and utmost attention.

Once someone crushes your trust, it is very difficult, almost impossible to regain it. You always second guess them, question the silliest things and keep them under a ridiculously watchful eye. That’s not healthy; it only clots your happiness. You’re always wondering what they are getting up to on your absence and you constantly feel the need to be updated on their comings and goings. That’s the worst space to be in, for anyone.

An unfortunate fact is that the only way to exit that space is by cutting the ties with that person. This is according to my experience.

"Nothing is more dangerous than an idea, when you only have one idea" (Alain)

Two years ago I took a really brave decision. Perhaps brave is not the correct word; when I look back to it now, I think I might have been possessed by demons. No, that does not explain it too. Maybe I suffered from a minor mental condition?

 Let me tell you the story then you can diagnose my ‘illness’.

At the beginning of 2010, I quit my job as an Accounts Executive of a PR company. The job was stressful but very fulfilling, the money was good and the projects were exciting, at least most of them.

So why did I leave?

One day while travelling from home from work, an intriguing thought popped into my mind. “If you can formulate, plan, execute and evaluate PR/communications strategies successfully to generate money for someone’s business, why can’t you do that for your own consultancy?” the small voice asked.  

By the time I got home my head was spinning! I had this grand vision of myself running my own successful PR consultancy with some really stunning clients and making tons and heaps of money. I managed to convince myself that I could do it. I mean, I had the skills, the qualification and my TWO years experience *shrieks*.

So why what could possibly stop me?

Two months later: I had resigned, registered my company, and developed the brand complete with my website, business cards and all! This was all done in a really amazing rush of excitement coupled with my die hard ambition. Now I was set and ready to take the PR industry by storm.

((BOOM))

By the time I realised that I had been driven by a single idea, my bank account was nonexistent and depression had made a home in my mind. I realised that I had been absorbed in my golden idea of starting my own business but I had absolutely no idea how I would make it work! I had no clue where to begin in recruiting clients.

After that realisation, I spent about almost a year of my life accepting rejection of employers, crying myself to sleep and financially dependent on family and friends. So far, that has been the toughest phase of my life. Hey, at some point I even contacted my previous employers and begged them to take me back.

But like they say, we learn through living. Now I am glad to say from that experience I have learnt that nothing is more dangerous than an idea, when you only have one idea.

BFFs

Allow me to introduce to you two of the four men that matter the most in my life - my best friends (pictured with me above) Wanda & Randy. Randy is the tall one and Wanda is the dark one. See? One of the reasons I adore them is that they are easy to describe.

Their descriptions go beyond their physical appearance though. These two guys are the real definition of unconditional love and true friendship. Through them, I have learnt most of this life's important lessons; that is to be comfortable in my own skin, to be patient (though that remains a weakness) and to be content with what I have.

With more than 8 years of being together and still going strong, I think I can safely say that our friendship has stood the test of time!

The dynamics of this friendship are thrilling enough to be a separate post, so stay tuned.

And oh, the other two men who matter the most are my one and only brother and my boyfriend ;)

My Summer Look

YES* I found one more reason to look forward to summer - to rock the look above! The other two reasons are to wear slops to work and to wearing speedos for the first time (yes, I have been preparing my body baby!)

Anyways, I came accross this picture of  the world's highest paid male model, Baptiste Giabiconi, when I was having one of my Perve Moments on the internet (figure it out). My hear raced and my palms started sweating and suprisingly that reaction was not caused by this man's dangerous sex appeal but his out fit on this picture!

This is what I have been looking for - a look to abuse! So that's it, I am getting myself all kinds of denim extra short shorts and over sizes checked shirts that I can find. This will be my everyday look...almost!

However, I am no stranger to short shorts....

I guess no one really embraced this look when I was gaga over it, uhm, two years ago. I also guess you can call me, erm, fashion forward? LOL! 

Have you figured out the second head fake?

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Some time ago, before I realised the importance of staying true to myself, I was caught up in the idea of being popular. You know, like an “IT fag”; the one that dons the most expensive clothes, has the most advanced smart phone, an ultra-hot boyfriend (or shag mate) and most importantly tons and heaps of cool friends.

So I made it a mission to obtain that status but it proved to be a bit of a challenge. The clothes, the cell phones and the boyfriend/shag mate were concealed by my financial constraints. Yes, in the Cape Town gay scene, a lot of boys are up for sale (believe it or not). They don’t come cheap...

However, making a ridiculously lot of friends was easy peasy! All I had to do was to put on a Model C accent, be updated on the current Beyonce or Lady Gaga scoop, own a packet of cigarettes and wear clothes that previously belonged to old white women when they were still alive. That made me relevant and I made dozens of cool “friends”. Only much later would I learn how loosely the term “friends” is used – or rather misused?

Being the genuine person that I am, I poured my being into these friendships. See, not only did I discuss my crushes and weekend plans with my “friends” but I also shared with them my true sentiments, aspirations and some really personal stuff.

Biggest mistake ever!

My newly found popularity came to an abrupt end as my friends started developing second heads. And no, I’m not going all sci-fi on you right now. I saw it with my own eyes, and I wear glasses so I’m not mistaken. I’m not sure which one was most astonishing; the revelation of the second head or figuring out that the first one is actually fake!

Not only did it turn out that some of my “friends” carried replicated Louis Vuitton sling bags, I found out that they also displayed faux personalities. All it took to realise that was a manifestation of my true self. My objection on reckless living, having fun AKA sleeping around and gossiping drove my “friends” away.

So out went my popularity and the labels started flocking in. At some point I was “Goody 2 Shoes” then I was a “Blonde White Bitch” before I finally became a “Slut on the Sly”. The origin of these striking titles is still unknown to me.  

I am...

In a connected world where trends and gadgets have crippled people’s sense of individualism, I AM on a mission to claim my peculiarity. I am not ready to let societal opinions and norms determine my way of doing things but I AM prepared to be a deviation. I AM a free spirit and I will continue exploring my capabilities to the best of my ability.

Amongst my peers, I AM the one that is not going to take the easy way out. I AM equipped with intelligence to tackle all the challenges that may arise along the way to success.  I have drive and ambition and I AM going to see the realisation of my dreams.

In my community, I AM going to make a difference. I aim to be the inspiration of the upcoming generations. Achieving that aim requires tremendous focus and hard work and I AM determined to abide. I AM not afraid to face the harsh realities of following my dream but I fear failure.

In myself, I AM a firm believer. I feed my brain with knowledge as I go along so to broaden my horizons. I go with an open mind and I AM open to suggestions and advise of those wiser than I AM.

I am…

Siya Mahomba

Our backgrounds are not the determinants of our future

My previuos post on the Affirmative Action received some really interesting response. Some people fairly agreed with me but a lot of people were quite hurt and angered by my sentiments. I have always known that we are a bit of a dysfunctional society, but I was not aware of the amount of anger we carry with us as a result of our past.

One comment that stood out for me was from one reader who assumed that my view on our economic state and our political system might be influenced by my age and  background.

He felt that I am too young to be discussing state issues such as the Affirmative Action. He also presumed that I come from a well off family, therefore I am not affected by the harsh realities of our country hence my deviating opinions on Affirmative Action. My response to both these allegations? This man is completely wrong.

Though I felt his antagonism as an unemployed young South African, I dismally failed to understand how he came to his conclusion.

Of course I tried to gain some understanding by asking him but my attempt was only met with silence. This incident brought back to my mind an issue that I have been meaning to address for sometime. In my opinion, our backgrounds are really not the determinants of our future. Therefore, I don’t see why we should refer to them when we seek a way forward.

However, I fully aggree that one’s past can be a powerful tool to use in carving a better future. Please allow me to make use of my own experince as an example. I was raised by a single mother together with my three siblings in a tiny 3 roomed shack and later a warm house that we are all proud of. My upbringing was not at all glits and glam. My mother’s hardwork, which ultimately saw me to my current state of life kept me and my siblings above the water. So there you have it; I do not come from a well off family.

I could have chosen to blame the government for my lack of access to all the basics I needed to get by like some of my peers did. I could have been rebelious against the public education that I received and dropped out of school. I could have refused to work hard while other children from other races received all their wishes on a silver platter.

But I did’nt.

It did not make sense  to expect some legislations to see me through life. Their mere existance were an an encouragement enough for me to get up and claim a comfortable life for myself. I did not see how my complaints about the past that I was not even a part of would ensure me a bright future. So  just like my mother, I resorted to hardwork to see me through life. And let me tell you, it worked like a charm.  

Andy Warhol said, “In the future everybody will be world famous for fifteen minutes.” You can’t choose the 15 minutes but why would you be world famous?

Warhol’s prophecy has been realised in a million ways recently. Think back to the recent racism outbreaks on the social media space.

Now, can you remember all these incidents in detail? Can you recall the names of the perpetrators? No blame on you if you can’t – their fiften minutes of world wide fame are, well, over.

A Gay Movement with a twist

Pic source: kyivpost.com

Recently, I had a very interesting conversation with a long time friend of mine. He was telling me about some of the really “weird” situations that he has been encountering since he stepped out of the closet.

Prior to taking this brave decision, he was worried about the negative perceptions that his community would have on him and all the rejection that he would have to face.



But to his (and partly mine) surprise, his coming out has rather been a platform for a lot of people to express their not-so-negative sentiments on homosexuality!

He even got a few guys confessing their undying love for him. The response got so overwhelming to him that he is considering becoming some sort of an activist so he can encourage other closeted homosexuals to live their lives openly. Well, let’s just say my friend tends to be a bit too enthusiastic sometimes.

As I listened to him going on about his newly found vision to let it known to the gay nation that the world is not such a harsh place, I thought it would not be a bad idea for me to also embark on a similar endeavour. However, I have no interest convincing gay people that our society is not such a mean bunch – I have already told them the opposite, which, in all respect, is true.

My activism would be against gay people. Yes, I would like to fight all the negativity amongst gay people. It is my utmost desire for all gay people to stop living up to the society’s expectations; for them to stop proving the truth in some of the stereotypes out there. There is a widespread belief that gay people are promiscuous and sadly, quite a lot of them are.

Try flipping through a gay magazine and all you’ll see are pictures of half naked men in seductive poses and ridiculously sexualised articles. Attend one of their events and you will sure to find them parading around practically naked and displaying pornographic public affection. I know a lot of them will hate me for putting this out and call me a traitor but truth has to be told.

I have a few gay acquaintances who have admitted to being most passionate about sex. And let me tell you, they do feed their passion – thoroughly.

So the Gay Rights Activist in me will not fight for the recognition and acceptance of gay people in society. There are already a lot of people pursuing that farfetched quest. Shout out to them. Instead, I want to urge my fellow gays to ease up on the sex craze.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not generalising. We do have some good gays out there. I, of course, am one of them.