Learn To Share Your Story
Sharing your story is cool but to tell you the truth it is not as easy as saying it. Obviously, there are many reasons why you should share your stories.
We have gone way past the era when information or should I say communication was expensive. Today with just one sexy click, information is a global market. You should be reminded that your story has glorious and inglorious parts. It is a thorn of roses. There are certain things you really feel like you don’t want to talk about. Should I remind you also that that is inferiority complex? Divorce your past and move on to bigger and better things. If you think that any part of your story is worth hiding, then you are limiting yourself.
Start by accepting that in the whole wide world, your story is unique. That is the genesis of it. If it is unique as such then it is a resource. It will be useful to someone. Do you know how many people are waiting to read your story? Some want to use your experiences to better this world. Share what and how life has been to you. That is how to get into the world. If you are ashamed or afraid of your story, then you are still there – where you really don’t like. Hate your past, yes but tell how it was. Your story could heal someone somewhere who is somebody who knows somebody somewhere.
Start thinking of opening up too, at 27 I am opening up to air my story as the author. This is coming 10 years after my scandal in 2009. I would not like someone to come and tell lies about how I lived my life. I am wearing shoes and I know where it pinches. No one should or can tell my story better than me. And you know what ... if you leave other people to tell your story, they will tell it with a bias.
Start by accepting that in the whole wide world, your story is unique. That is the genesis of it. If it is unique as such then it is a resource. It will be useful to someone. Do you know how many people are waiting to read your story? Some want to use your experiences to better this world. Share what and how life has been to you. That is how to get into the world. If you are ashamed or afraid of your story, then you are still there – where you really don’t like. Hate your past, yes but tell how it was. Your story could heal someone somewhere who is somebody who knows somebody somewhere.
Start thinking of opening up too, at 27 I am opening up to air my story as the author. This is coming 10 years after my scandal in 2009. I would not like someone to come and tell lies about how I lived my life. I am wearing shoes and I know where it pinches. No one should or can tell my story better than me. And you know what ... if you leave other people to tell your story, they will tell it with a bias.
It is a sad memory but just like every silver linen; It has a dark side, it has its own lessons. The purpose of this article is to remind you of the saying that says a problem shared is a fraction solved. A lot of people lack internal peace because of the weight of their stories. They feel that people are going to criticize, mock, hate, avoid, victimize, laugh and you can name the rest.
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| Learn To Share Your Story! |
There was a day in my life I would have emptied my pockets for a total stranger.
I stopped this cab. Then I greeted the cab driver as I entered. The cab was empty. I sat quietly because I discovered that he was an elderly man maybe in his 50s. He drove for a while and started tickling me into a conversation. I am not too good in French, but I was also able to read that the man needed a listening ear. So most of my replies were ‘Oui, Okay, non, je te dire’ meaning (Yes, Okay, No, I (can) tell you) I actually didn’t say much but this man enjoyed how much I listened to his worries to the extent that he drove me to my destination without stopping to pick any other customer. He was carrying a huge weight on him that day. He might have probably made people who might have judged him or mocked at home but behold I gave him an ear and saw healing it was.
This cab driver had spent all his savings on and even taken loans for his wife in hospital and when she got well, she divorced him and left him with the kids. On that day I had seen his wife having a great time somewhere while he was struggling with her debts. The cab he was driving belonged to someone who was expecting him to make a weekly deposit of money he didn’t have a quarter of it after 5pm. The man told he had spent more than half of the day in the garage repairing the car.
I stopped this cab. Then I greeted the cab driver as I entered. The cab was empty. I sat quietly because I discovered that he was an elderly man maybe in his 50s. He drove for a while and started tickling me into a conversation. I am not too good in French, but I was also able to read that the man needed a listening ear. So most of my replies were ‘Oui, Okay, non, je te dire’ meaning (Yes, Okay, No, I (can) tell you) I actually didn’t say much but this man enjoyed how much I listened to his worries to the extent that he drove me to my destination without stopping to pick any other customer. He was carrying a huge weight on him that day. He might have probably made people who might have judged him or mocked at home but behold I gave him an ear and saw healing it was.
This cab driver had spent all his savings on and even taken loans for his wife in hospital and when she got well, she divorced him and left him with the kids. On that day I had seen his wife having a great time somewhere while he was struggling with her debts. The cab he was driving belonged to someone who was expecting him to make a weekly deposit of money he didn’t have a quarter of it after 5pm. The man told he had spent more than half of the day in the garage repairing the car.
He also told me he was to going to their CIG ‘Njangi’ where they expected him to submit a weekly contribution. He told me how much of a failure he felt. He also said he was worried about the Njangi because he would be insulted by younger boys and still given a fine to pay. That day I had a rendezvous with a friend. I expected to have had some money from the rendezvous. Considering the distance, I had travelled to meet him. I was moody about it. But the cabman’s worries built another person in me. I just told him ca va aller tonton (It is well or will be well uncle) and went out sad.
I was sad but not because of my failed expectation. I was sad because I didn’t have some money that I had to give him to settle his dues. I didn’t know him but if had had money on me I would have given him to pay part. To see a matured man, talk the way he did was tear and thought-provoking at the same time. It is not everyone who works hard that succeed. To succeed you also need grace.
I was sad but not because of my failed expectation. I was sad because I didn’t have some money that I had to give him to settle his dues. I didn’t know him but if had had money on me I would have given him to pay part. To see a matured man, talk the way he did was tear and thought-provoking at the same time. It is not everyone who works hard that succeed. To succeed you also need grace.
As you work hard please pray for grace. If success was equal to hard work, then we should have many Dangotes in Africa. Before you accuse someone of not working also find out how much grace is upon your life.
I am urging you, therefore, to share your story.
I am urging you, therefore, to share your story.
So many people will learn and change from your story. We can, therefore, build better if we share. If I am courageous to share my story today, it is the inspiration I have had from one reading the works and stories of the social media personality - HENRIETTE THATCHER. Do you know how many people will be saved from swimming in the same water you swam if you share your story?
Some people have grown in some backgrounds with some traditions. People from communities where FGM, for example, is practised, people from where children are given scars as a way of removing evil spirits from them. These are experiences that change the victims for good. If these stories are not shared no one will do a thing about it. Some married are promiscuous not for the love of money but because they were abused while young. They got some addictions and were told to stay silent or be harmed. You drank somewhere, got pregnant and you don’t know the author, don’t be shy to say it. End the fear and talk to someone.
Recently there were stories of ladies dated men of God on HENRIETTE THATCHER’s page and how they felt it was haunting them. Well, it keeps motivating many others to share. Those who have not shared yet are surely fighting guilt and waiting for karma while the others are reconciling with their maker.
Some people have grown in some backgrounds with some traditions. People from communities where FGM, for example, is practised, people from where children are given scars as a way of removing evil spirits from them. These are experiences that change the victims for good. If these stories are not shared no one will do a thing about it. Some married are promiscuous not for the love of money but because they were abused while young. They got some addictions and were told to stay silent or be harmed. You drank somewhere, got pregnant and you don’t know the author, don’t be shy to say it. End the fear and talk to someone.
Recently there were stories of ladies dated men of God on HENRIETTE THATCHER’s page and how they felt it was haunting them. Well, it keeps motivating many others to share. Those who have not shared yet are surely fighting guilt and waiting for karma while the others are reconciling with their maker.
No one knows the story better than the author.
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