Tag: Struggle

From Fishing Village to SEO Wiz

Posted on by Jonathan

I believe in the power of education and self-education. 

Buckle up, for this journey isn’t just about SEO; it’s about defying limitations, embracing the unknown, and proving that, with unwavering will, anything is within reach.

My journey started in a small village called Mbita Point.  I grew up in this little Kenyan hamlet that sits on the eastern shore of Lake Victoria. 

(Image courtesy of Evan Dims via Unsplash)

It is a remote fishing village where computers did not exist, let alone the internet. I knew nothing about them, but I was always curious and eager to learn new things.

My first steps

This is how it all began. When I was 18, I moved to our Kenyan capital, Nairobi, to attend college. I was majoring in business and was interested in learning more about marketing and advertising. One day, while browsing the internet, I came across the term “SEO.” I had never heard of SEO before, but I was intrigued by the idea of being able to help businesses grow their audience by ranking higher in website search results.

I started doing some research on  this fascinating  topic. I read books, articles, and blog posts, and also watched online tutorials. I quickly realized that SEO was a complex and ever-changing field, but I was determined to learn as much as possible. 

I began playing around with what I was learning on a friend’s website. I optimized the website by including relevant keywords and wrote blog posts that were informative and engaging. Within a few months, I began to see results. This website started to rank higher in search engine results, and more people were visiting it. 

I dared launch my own turbine
I was so motivated and excited by my success that I launched my own SEO consulting business. I started by helping my friends and family with their businesses. I also offered my services to local businesses and owners who needed traffic on their websites.

(Image Courtesy of Jacek Dylag via Unsplash)

Quickly, word spread about the new magician in town, someone who could make potential buyers “walk” into your website and make purchases. My clientele list grew rapidly. I helped businesses of all sizes improve their online visibility. I also started writing articles and blog posts about SEO. I evolved into a well-known expert in the field.

Today, I am a successful SEO consultant. I have helped dozens of businesses boost their online visibility and I am now a regular speaker at industry events. I am passionate about helping businesses succeed online, and I am always looking for new ways to improve my skills. 

My takeaways for you

How did I overcome the challenges of self-education? I will share that self-educating is not easy. It requires a lot of motivation, discipline, and perseverance. Along the way, I faced many difficulties and pitfalls that tested my resolve and my confidence.

Take the inevitable challenges in stride. One big challenge was finding reliable and up-to-date sources of information. SEO is a dynamic and competitive field, and the best practices and strategies change frequently. I had to constantly update my knowledge and skills to keep up with the latest trends and developments. I also had to be careful about the quality and credibility of the information that I found online. There are many sources of misinformation and outdated advice that can harm your SEO efforts.

To overcome this, I used a mix of tools and methods to find and verify the information that I needed. I used Bing to search for relevant and authoritative websites, blogs, and articles. I used Google Scholar to find academic and scientific papers on SEO. I subscribed to newsletters and podcasts from reputable SEO experts and SEO agencies. I also joined online communities and forums where I could ask questions and learn from other SEO professionals and enthusiasts. 

Another challenge for me was balancing my time and energy between self-education and other aspects of my life. Self-education can be exhausting, especially when you must juggle it with work, family, and social obligations. I often felt overwhelmed and stressed by the amount of work that I had to do and the deadlines that I had to meet. 

(Image courtesy of Ann Poan via pexels)

With time, I learned to prioritize and manage my time and energy more effectively. I used a calendar and a to-do list to plan and schedule my tasks. I set realistic and specific goals and deadlines for myself. I also used a time-management app to break down my work into manageable chunks and intervals.

I made sure to take breaks and reward myself for completing my tasks. I also outsourced some of the work that I could not do or did not enjoy doing.

Who wants to learn?
Anyone who wants to learn needs to have a passion for learning. I started with no knowledge of computers or the internet, but I learned the nuts and bolts of SEO and turned my understanding of it into a successful business. I believe that if I can do it, probably anyone can. 

To all those interested in embarking on their educational journey, you could stop worrying about where to start. Multiple resources are available: books, articles, blog posts, and online tutorials. You can also find more knowledge through workshops and seminars. The most important things are to start learning and never give up. Education is a complex but rewarding journey. Once you start traveling on its roadway you will achieve your goals. For this, you must be willing to harness and sustain your relentless effort. 

So what are you waiting for?

The Magic Of Never Giving Up

Posted on by Jonathan

I didn’t plan to write this article. 

But the young man I am today is a reflection of all my insecurities from when I was growing up. Reflecting on my primary and secondary school days, many people thought I was weird because I was silent and shy. Losing my mum at a young age and coping with my aggressive stepmom was no less than an adventure I never dreamed of. 

My childhood was full of nightmarish times. I experienced more forms of shame and abuse that you can imagine. You don’t have to be ill or poor to live in hell.

(Photo courtesy of Patrick Tomasso via Unsplash)
(Photo courtesy of Patrick Tomasso via Unsplash)

Schooldays

My days in primary school played a significant role in shaping who I am today. I struggled — my uniform was among the most ragged in the class, torn and dirty. Each day, I was also the last student to reach school, carrying an unbeatable record for tardiness. I didn’t have the prescribed textbooks, as nobody cared to buy them for me. I was growing up on my own. I managed to photocopy my peers’ exercises for the class tests and exams. Taunts did not just come within my family, my classmates also bullied me, calling out a “food beggar.” 

Despite going through traumatic experiences both at home and school, I didn’t give up and held myself strong and determined. 

My focus was my studies. My rank at school was always among the top four students in my class, mostly ranked first, second, or third. 

At a young age, I knew what I wanted, I had set my goal, so I read and read every book I could find. I was among the teachers’ favorites, always obedient and sincere, building good relationships with them. I didn’t get the warmth of family love and the comforts that most of my classmates had, but I barely cared about it and never let it sour me.

While my childhood taught me the importance of humility, it also taught me what it’s like to experience hunger and abandonment. This went a long way in shaping me, and how I interact with others. My troubled childhood made me a more tolerant adult.

Secondary school was better, financially, as I could make some money by copying notes for less serious students. I also became more consistent in taking first positions and that helped me garner free textbooks. After finishing junior secondary (middle school),  I was transferred to a state government public school for my senior secondary education (high school). My class had over 494 students, and I was the youngest or at least one of them. I loved topping the class, but with over 50% of the students being continuing students, it was almost an impossible nut to crack. They understood the syllabus and exam pattern better than I did as an outsider. I was scared but I had to do it, or else get back to my gloomy home and I never wanted that. 

I started my senior secondary first term as the eleventh out of 494 students and then climbed up to seventh position by the second term. Although I topped in my class, that was only among a quarter of the 494 students I aimed to beat. 

(Photo courtesy of Himal Rana via Unsplash)

It was almost a tradition in the school that “ladies always graduated as the best overall” — a girl would always be the topper, and that remained unbeaten for a long time. After attending the graduation ceremony of my senior batch, my determination to top my graduation knew no  boundaries. I did it — I graduated as the best overall and the best-behaved student of my batch. Thus, the tradition changed — a major self-boosting change for me. How did I do it? I ignored the obstacles I faced and went for what I wanted. Was it easy? No. I had to work very hard and be super determined.

Attending my higher institution is another phase of my story, but not much different from my previous stories. Given my finances, I couldn’t get a university admission after graduation. Disheartened but not crushed, I settled for a vocational course, National Diploma. I joined the institution two months into the semester and still managed to top the class in all the semesters.

Respect regardless of status

I sometimes asked myself, am I a guru or a super exceptional student? And the answer was always No. I knew what I wanted and was going to chase it. I’m basically an introvert by nature, but my own nature helped me build good relationships along the way. I helped others whenever I could and respected everyone regardless of status.

Most importantly, I never gave up. There were times when I failed, but instead of dwelling on them, I corrected my mistakes. 

In addition to never giving up, there are certain key lessons that I learned through my experiences …

Sincerity

In a popular saying, “It is better to be trusted than to be loved.” Always keep to your word and be truthful. My sincerity with my words and actions helped me build trust all through my way. 

Humility 

Many people have underrated this very valuable virtue. No matter how independent you are, you still need others, perhaps even the most ‘irrelevant person‘ in the room. One thing I have realized during my journey is that everyone has something to offer. If you neglect anyone because of their status, you neglect the good they come with. 

Emotional intelligence 

You don’t need to take a course to understand emotional intelligence. Listen to your conscience and never rejoice when others are in pain. Then try not to frown when others are rejoicing. Distinguish between your emotions and your work or academics. Don’t let  problems interfere with  progress or else additional problems will pave its way. 

Stand up for yourself and start your engine

You don’t have to be perfect to be great. The president of any country, like my Nigeria, reached greatness in their realm without always being a saintly genius. Sorry. But here they are. Successful people are not necessarily the most hardworking. 

You lose 100% of the chance to succeed on every opportunity you fail to take. No one will penalize you for trying. 

(Photo courtesy of Alexander Grey via Unsplash)

Take advantage of opportunities

There is never a perfect time to get things done. The fact that you are where you are today doesn’t mean you can’t get to where you want to be. No opportunity is bigger than you if you are the driver of your destiny. 


Concluding thoughts

I remember saying to my younger self that one day I will write about my life experience, and I feel elated anytime I pick up my pen to do so. I know I haven’t gotten to my destination yet, but it doesn’t hurt to get a feel for what the future looks like. 

Apocalypse New

Posted on by [email protected]

We walked quietly, my brother and I, our footfalls barely audible through the serried leaves, even to us. We were deep in the Kiamichi Mountains, seemingly away from civilization.  Better to be silent and safe, than sorry. We could already attest to that. 

When the power went out and the phones died, the world became maddeningly still. At least our world did — the quiet before the storm. Then panic sank in, and survival equaled every man for himself. 

We heard rumors of war, but no one really knew what was happening. People got tired of waiting. I expected foreign soldiers to drop from the sky or even zombies bleeding from their eyes to come wandering up. But no one came, except other restless, confused people passing through. Most students left for home after a few days without electricity, but I didn’t have enough gas to get to East Texas. My half-tank got me to my aunt’s house in southeast Oklahoma.  Sean was already there. 

It took months before anyone bothered us. It was the cattle they were after when they came. They would have eventually eaten us, too, had they been desperate enough. 

My brother and I were getting water from the creek. No well water without the electric pump. We hid and watched men hang my uncle in a tree, then rape my aunt before slicing her  throat. We didn’t stay.

“I hear something,” Sean whispered. We stopped moving and crouched low. He reached in his pocket for a fistful of bullets. He only had six left. The faint sound of beating and clanking made my heart jump. Woods don’t clank. I could tell by the look on his face the curiosity was getting him. Funny how the dangerous unknown became preferable to the discomforting void. 

“Only close enough to see,” I mouthed. He nodded as we crept closer to the sound, a now steady rhythm. Given our grungy state, we camouflaged into the scenery. We stood silent behind trees in the distance, listening and trying to make out the source. Children. Small children with golden skin and dark ringlets glistened in the sunlight, wearing only undies and rubber boots. 

A boy, maybe five years old, was beating a stick on a five-gallon bucket while a toddler knocked a pot lid on the porch railing. They were making music, so innocent. We watched and waited. Surely the adults would show up any second. 

Maybe an hour passed. No parents. Sean picked up a rock and chunked it as far in the distance as he could. Their little heads popped up in the direction of where it landed. The boy grabbed the toddler, who I now realized was a girl, and ran inside the house. 

I stepped forward, intent on following when Sean grabbed my shirt from behind. I turned to the steely barrel of what looked like a Benelli shotgun inches away from my cheek. My breath caught, and I instantly felt sweat beading on my forehead and neck. Sean stood still holding my shirt about two feet from the wielder. 

The owner was a boy about eight, if I had to guess, wearing only jeans, barefoot, with a  hardened freckled face. I was about to be shot by Opie Taylor, or maybe Huck Finn. Sean stepped closer to me, and farther away from the boy with his hands out at his shoulders,  indicating surrender. 

Sean’s rifle was on the ground several feet away. The boy said nothing but moved toward the gun, his eyes never leaving us. He bent down and tucked it under one arm, then motioned for us to walk toward the house. I couldn’t help but notice the leaves were still as we walked. Force of habit, I thought. 

“Brigg, bring me the zip-ties.” We stopped at the edge of the porch. “What do you want?”  His voice was cold. 

Sean said, “Nothing, we were just following the sound. We didn’t mean to trespass.” 

“Well now that you’re here, I can’t let you leave. We’ve been through this before, and it’s  not happening again.” What happened to this child to make him think it was dangerous to let us go? 

Sean and I looked at each other. I had no idea what to say or do. Sean spoke in a very  careful tone, “Of course you can, man. We won’t come back. We don’t want to hurt anyone.” 

He said nothing more. The younger boy returned with two plastic zip-ties and tethered us to the railing while the older brother held the gun on us. I noticed he had three fish hanging from his belt loop. 

We sat on the porch, arms bound, listening to the older one yell at Brigg and their sister about not going outside while he was gone. Little bits and pieces of his lecture revealed that the younger boy knew better than to make noise or play with the hatchet, both of which were done while the elder was catching dinner. After some time, he came out and faced us, having come to some conclusion. 

He looked at me with a questioning expression. “You are a girl. Do you think you could  help wash my sister?” 

Again, Sean and I looked at each other, confused. “Your sister needs help with a bath?” 

“Yes,” his shoulders slumped as he dropped the tough-guy façade. “I’m not sure how to do it, but I know she needs to be cleaned better. She’s getting a rash. If you help, I’ll let you  live.” He tightened back up. 

“Sure, I can help her.” I bet trying to bathe a baby girl was close to the top of the list of things a boy his age never wanted to have to do. 

They called him Bubba and the little girl Beau. After I bathed Beau while at gunpoint in the icy cold creek, and got her back up to the house, it took a little coaxing to convince Bubba to release Sean, too. He had to give up his bullets, but that was better than the alternative. And we had a fairly safe place to stay the night. It was the first time in weeks we didn’t sleep outside. 

When I woke up the sun was bright, and I could hear Sean talking on the porch. “Oh,  yeah, I can show you how to make snares. And Talia is pretty good at cooking over a fire.” 

I stepped out to find I was the last person up, and Sean seemed to be having a conference of sorts with the children. He smiled when he saw me. “Tal, you want to stay here awhile?  Bubba, here, has offered us a place through winter. We have a few weeks before it turns cold, but they have supplies… and a roof.” It was almost impossible not to like Sean; I wasn’t all that surprised he buttered up some kids so quickly. I nodded in agreement. No question about it. 

Apparently, Bubba was a boy scout, and was quite apt for his age. Sean and I grew up in the country and camped a lot, we were not completely useless either. It was a godsend to have other people to talk to, even if they were really young. And it was even more of a blessing to have something to do besides drift. 

I wanted to ask Bubba where his parents were, but I resisted, too afraid it would upset him. Wherever his parents had gone, they left behind, along with their able-bodied children,  plenty of canned goods, rice, beans, and sugar. They had soaps for laundry and baths, even shampoo. Still no toilet paper, but we did find some stale coffee. Oh, sweet bitter coffee. It felt almost normal again. 

Two days later, while we were all stacking firewood, Brigg asked Bubba if he was still  going to kill the “ones” in the shed. Sean’s face drained of color. I knew something wasn’t right.  “What’s in the shed, Bubba?” Sean had been in there several times already. Surely  he’d seen. 

Bubba took a deep breath before he spoke, “I caught two guys trying to steal Thor, our  goat, and I locked them in the storm shelter under the shed.” He looked apologetic. 

Brigg’s eyes went wide. “Bubba was awesome! You should have seen him. He sneak attacked ‘em, like a ninja!” 

“How long have they been down there,” I asked. 

“About a week, I think.”

“With no food, or water? Bubba, they might be dead!” 

Brigg piped up, clearly angry I was chastising his brother. “They deserved it! Those  turkeys scared Thor off!” 

Sean took control, “Bubba, let’s go check it out, you and me. Talia, take Beau and Brigg inside and stay there. You better give me my rifle back, just for a little while.” 

The two little ones and I played Hot Wheels while we waited. After a few minutes, Sean came back with a Bowie knife he thrust at me, handle first. “Keep this on you at all times, and be careful. Nobody goes anywhere alone.” 

“They weren’t there?” I could feel the panic rising in my chest. 

“No, and I’d imagine they are pretty pissed and pretty desperate right now, so I doubt  they just took off.” Oh shit. 

Several days passed and nothing happened. Sean and I took turns keeping watch at night.  I was putting on the kettle early, it was still dark out, when I caught a glimpse of movement through the trees. Was that a deer or something else? I grabbed my knife off the counter about to investigate, when I was yanked backwards by my ponytail. My head slammed into the counter with a force that made me see black for a moment. 

“Don’t you dare scream,” I heard a raspy voice. “I’ll bleed you right here.” He snatched the knife from my hand before I realized I was still holding it. He jerked me into the living room and pushed me to the couch. He sat beside me, turned so that his front was only inches away. I could see his face now, his eyes manic, a distant expression that told me he was way beyond thinking clearly. I was terrified. 

He put his finger to his lips, reminding me not to make a sound. Then he was on top of me with wild abandonment. I pushed and fought, frantic to get away. He held me still, with one hand fisted in my hair, the other jabbing the knife into the skin under my jawbone. His overbearing body pressed me in place. I could feel his excitement hard against my thigh, and smell his rancid breath and oily, dirt-clod hair. Please, no. God, no. 

Suddenly, there was a thwack. He went limp. A second passed before he gasped, then jumped off of me and turned around. A hatchet was stuck square between his shoulder blades,  his shirt was beginning to seep red. He seemed to forget I was there while he searched for the cause. 

Instinct kicked in, and I grabbed the hatchet handle. It did not dislodge right away, I had to give it another tug before it came out. As soon as I did, he spun back around, remembering my danger. I started swinging as hard as I could, despite him being too close for me to get a good hit.  Surely I could do some kind of damage. At least he was no longer after whoever stabbed the hatchet in him in the first place. 

I heard two deafening shots too close together to be from the same gun, and he fell on top of me, this time limp and lifeless. Beau began screaming from her bedroom. Seconds passed before I heard slight footsteps towards the kitchen. I waited, paralyzed with fear, trying to breathe under his enormous weight. 

It seemed like forever. Beau’s wails had worn down to miserable sobs. My mind raced,  and I was just working up a good dose of hysterics when I heard two more shots coming from outside. Moments later, two little bare feet appeared near where my face was squashed under a  huge shoulder. Brigg peeked at me through elbow and torso. 

“Talia, are you okay?” He sounded like a timid little angel. 

“I think so. Are you?” 

“Yes,” he said, adamantly nodding his head, eyes wide. 

“Brigg, can you see Sean? Is he okay?” 

“Okay, I’ll get him.” 

“Be a ninja,” I whispered. Please, Lord, don’t let them catch him! 

We buried the bodies as far away as we could push them in the wheelbarrow. I wanted to burn them, but it would have taken days and the smoke might have brought more unwanted company. I actually fantasized about beating and dismembering the monsters, as if I could torture their putrid souls from beyond the grave. The depth of my hatred startled me. 

Brigg had thrown the hatchet, after waking Sean and Bubba up when he heard someone outside his bedroom window. Sean and Bubba found the other man trying to wiggle in Beau’s window with a garden trowel in his hand. 

After they were buried, we went on as though nothing happened. We were not the least bit sorry they were dead… by our hands. 

The goat came back once it turned cold and there was nothing to eat in the woods. I was surprised to find that not only was the notorious goat not eaten by wild hogs, but Thor was a female and she could open and close doors. Of course, her milk was dried up after going so long without being milked. But at least the children had their pet back. 

The day the power came back on we were catching lightning bugs at dark. We heard a  slight bleep, then the dishwasher started like it had never missed a beat. It took a while for the realization to sink in. We all ran inside and stared at the mechanical wonder. Brigg went from room to room turning on lights. Beau’s face was bright with enthusiasm as she giggled and  

trailed behind him. Sean and Bub ran for the television. 

It took days for me to stop crying. I didn’t even understand if it was from happiness or trauma. It was like I was swimming underwater, holding my breath for almost a year; relief rolling over me again and again as my head finally reached the surface. Every time I turned on the hot water, watched the rebuilding on the news, or even looked at my brother and the children,  it was like the dam broke all over again. 

None of us would ever be the same. More than just our faith had been  shaken, our grip on humanity had eroded. The harsh reality lodged itself in my mind: our way of life was fickle and could once again be stripped away at any given moment.

Her

Posted on by [email protected]

“You are so talented and smart. The dexterity in your work is astonishing. You, my dear, are going to be a star.” These were my mother’s words to me as she held my face in her hands, her eyes glistening with the hopes and dreams she held for me.

As I gazed at a distant view, I reminisced on how life has shown me its ugly nature. I watched people who formed my universe slowly dissipate into nothingness, their backs turned to me as they left. As time passed, I forgot myself in the whirlwind of events that made up my life. 

A hard knock on the door helped me escape from my thoughts. 

“Miss, it’s time.”

“You can do this,” I said to myself, feeling nauseous with every breath. The weight on my heart increased and I could feel my palms get sweaty with each second. I wanted to run and not face the same reality I have been living in for the last six years. 

I slowly walked towards the stage and took my position in the background, attempting to look as inconspicuous as possible. I stood still and waited for my part. It finally came.

“Hmm,” I said. Yes, that was my part. That phrase which I worked until my tongue felt numb. I tried not to be too slow, fast, unnatural, or gruff. I needed to just be perfect.

“Cut!” the director screamed. “You there!” he said with a harsh tone I was all too familiar with. 

“Me?” I said while feeling the heat on my cheeks from embarrassment.

“No, me dummy,” he said sarcastically. He started walking towards me briskly causing me to take careless steps backwards and stumble. He towered over me as he spoke, “What was with that tone, why are you so stiff? There are millions of people who are desperate for what you have and that is the attitude you show?”

“Sorry sir, let me try again. I promise I will do better if…” 

My voice was shaky and my vision blurred from my tears.

“Enough! You are out.” 

With that, he walked back to his seat.

“But sir, I can…”

“Did I mince my words? Security, get her out of my sight!” He glared at me with so much hate I felt a shiver run down my back. “This is what I get for taking in has-beens.” 

***

They dragged me to the front of the building and pushed me out the front door. My attempt to break my fall caused me to bruise my wrists. My hands throbbed with pain and the heat of the summer stung my back. 

I raised my head to meet the bewildered stares, the nods, and eventually slow departures after getting a good look at  my pain. 

I slowly stood up and walked away into the crowd. I have had enough for one day. 

***

I sauntered around until I felt exhaustion in my bones. Then I went home. I did not want to lay on my bed reminiscing on a bad day.

I walked into my apartment, turned on the light, and stared at the dimly lit room. It was the size of a cubicle with just enough space for a bed and anything I could salvage when I left him.

I slumped into my bed, and stared at my pained wrists which had become purple and swollen. I smiled as sleep embraced me into its warmth.

***

The loud chatter from my neighbors woke me from my slumber. The memory of events of the day before came flooding in along with the pain. I felt hot tears fall freely from my cheeks. I cried for a while, but crying never helped me so I got ready for the day.

***

There was a feeling that came with auditions, the preparation for rejection, and the hope of acceptance. I sat at a coffee shop while going through my script. The coffee tasted as bland as colored water, making me regret every cent I spent on it. The street view, however, made it almost worth it.

“Do you mind if I sit here?”

“Yes,” I said, without bothering to raise my head from my script.

“But I want to.”

“Look kid, skedaddle, okay?” I tore my eyes from my script only to be astounded by her blue eyes that resembled the ocean floor. She smiled at me, revealing a gap in her teeth and adorable dimples. I smiled back at her contagious smile. She was a dazzling young child with curls and freckled cheeks. However, I saw something odd: her smile did not reach her sad eyes.

“Fine, sit, but only till your parents come.”

“They are not coming.” She said as she looked through the window at a distant view that I could not see. “Mum is dead and Dad is busy.”

“I am so sorry.” 

I pitied her because her pain felt familiar, because she felt like I did.

“No biggie.” She shrugged her shoulders and glanced at my script. “You act?” she said, trying to change the subject. 

“Yes, but you cannot go around telling people what you just told me okay?” I needed to stop her from letting this big mean world know her story, that was the mistake I had made.

“I have never told anyone, just you. I like you.” She smiled again and winked at me. It was awkward but I liked it.

“Do you want a drink?” I asked her.

“Nope, the drinks here are horrible. Even water tastes bad.” I laughed, which was something I haven’t done in a long while.

 “What do you want then?” 

“Nothing.”

“Okay, so why did you come to a coffee shop?”

“I like the view.”

“Makes sense,” I said and continued to look through my script. 

“I have to go.” 

“Already?” I said.

“Yep, it’s almost time for my tutor to arrive. I am home-schooled.” I watched her as she stood up and left, still thrown off by this meeting. A girl who spoke to me like we had known each other for ages.

***

Weeks passed and I walked past that coffee shop every day hoping to meet her. I didn’t even get her name.

My audition went as it typically would, a failure. As I was about to walk past the shop’s window, my eyes caught a glimpse of a girl with familiar freckles. My lips curled into a smile as I entered.

The bell jingled and she turned and stared at me, her entire face beclouded with intense sadness, once visible only in her eyes.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, feeling concerned.

Her lips quivered. “Everyone leaves me,” she said quietly but loud enough to make my heart break. Her voice had lost its sonorous essence

“What do you mean?” I asked while leaning closer.

“Exactly what I said!” 

Her eyes welled up with tears and she started to wipe her cheeks frantically.

“What do you mean, did something happen at home?”

She looked at me intently until I started to feel uncomfortable under her gaze. I shifted in my seat. 

“You remind me of her.”

“Who?” I asked puzzled

“My mum,” she bowed her head and stared at her feet as she spoke. “She died a year ago and left me.” 

“I am so sorry.” I placed my hands on her chin, raising her face to meet mine. I finally understood her pain. My heart sank. This was a familiar feeling. The feeling of not being enough. It had dragged me down to its dark alleys for years and mocked my inability to leave.

“Darling, your mum never abandoned you, she…”

“Yes, she did!” she interjected abruptly. “She knew I needed her but she still left. And dad seems to be busy with everything else but me.” She broke into loud sobs. I realized people were staring at us.

“Please stop crying.” Her wails were heart-wrenching, and I needed to do something about it.

“What is your name?” I asked.

“Susan.” she said as she sobbed.

“Well, mine is Stella. See both our names start with the same letter, isn’t that interesting?” She stopped crying and said, “I guess so.”

“Susan, where is your dad right now?”

“He is at home.” 

“Well let’s take you home.” 

“No, I don’t want to go back.” She stood defiantly.

“You have to because I have something very interesting to say to him.”

“You do?” Her eyes widened and glistened as she spoke. “Okay.”

I think she already had an idea of what I wanted to do.

***

We left and started a long walk to her house. “I thought you lived close by, Susan.”

“The goal was to be as far from home as possible every time I left.” 

***

Her house was bigger than I had anticipated, causing me to gawk at its enormous size. We walked past the security guard who eyed me from head to toe suspiciously. “Good day, Sir,” I said to him.

 He replied with a grunt.

“Be nice, she is my guest,” Susan said.

We walked into the majestic house, situated in the heart of an impressive garden.

The inside of the house was as elegant as the outside. The exquisite chandelier drew my attention, glistening as it illuminated the house. The Victorian-style interior seemed to be designed for royalty itself. I was in awe, but had to focus. I came here for a reason.

“Dad! Dad!” Susan ran upstairs, calling him. I paced back and forth, hoping to overcome the ruckus inside my head. I was unsettled, nervous butterflies in my stomach. This feeling took me seven years back. 

***

“What do you mean I should quit?” I asked, puzzled. 

“I’ve said what I’ve said and that’s that,” he said in a stoic manner.

“I will not quit my job because of your small-minded attitude.”  

He chuckled. I have never experienced such coldness from him. 

That was the beginning of my torture. Days turned into months and then years, and the pain stayed. He saw my growth as competition and did everything he could to pull me down. When he started acting out, I did not understand and thought he was just being fussy. Until he showed me his true colors. He ensured he soiled my name, spreading every horrible rumor he could think of. And everyone believed him because he was my husband. I left when I had enough but I was too late.

***

The thumping sound of heavy footsteps descending the stairway woke me from my daymare. Susan raced down the stairs, almost missing a step, and came to stand next to me. Her father wore a scowl on his face, with a look that judged my every breath. The air changed as he took the last step down and walked towards me. I started to rethink my actions but knew it was too late. 

“What is your business with my daughter?” I flinched at his thundering voice as it reverberated through the house.

I cleared my throat. “I know it is not my place to do so, but I need to tell you that you have been brutally unfair to Susan and she has a lot to say to you.” I looked towards Susan and gestured at her to come forward and speak your heart.

She stared at me frightened. I smiled at her hoping to encourage. She took a step towards him, “Dad I would like to say that I do not like how you are always busy and the fact that you are leaving me alone for such a long time.”

His look softened as he approached her. 

“Darling, I never intended to leave you. I just need to take care of a few things, and then we can spend more time together.”

“I don’t like that. If you are going anywhere, I am going too.”

He smiled at her. “Okay, I will be better.” 

She smiled and hugged him.

I was envious of their love. I wish I had what they had, but I felt satisfaction watching them. I nonetheless saw my mistake. I had failed to confront my pain, failed to refuse to be a victim, accepted mediocrity, and lost the star my mother saw. My head throbbed and I knew I had enough.

“Why are you crying?”

I was glad to see them together, it was something I wish I had when I needed it. I felt satisfaction to see that Susan was not alone nor abandoned.

I touched my cheeks and felt moisture. “Oh, I umm…”

“You don’t need to explain Miss….”

“Stella. That is my name.”

“Thank you for your kind actions.”

“I think it’s time for me to go.” I turned and started to walk away quickly.

“Wait!” 

I stopped.

“Is there anything I can do for you, Miss Stella?”

Susan ran to me and held my hand. “Will I get to see you again?”

“Of course, darling, same place.” I touched her cheeks and smiled.

I walked out of that house as a different person. I had enough and I had to do for myself what no one else could do for me. 

Live.