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What is this Nagging Passion? My first Heartbreak.


passion
/ˈpaʃ(ə)n/
noun
  1. 1.
    strong and barely controllable emotion.

    "a man of impetuous passion"

That has been my reality for the past 14 years. Ever since I realised that I was madly, deeply and crazily in love with artistic manifestation. That is I loved art in various forms and I was able to do several types of artworks. I was always drawing, and not surprisingly, I was very interested in clothing and design. 

In African culture, design is a hobby; not an income-generating activity. it is impunity to think that a hobby or anything that is a hobby or that fat can be anything other than a pass time activity. Naturally, even trying to go that route was always met with scepticism and sometimes patronising indulgence. 

I followed the obvious path to follow was that of college to study a blue-collar course that would undoubtedly land me in a corporate setting. It delivered as expected except I was miserable. I was barely making anything work, my effort and even the growth I got seemed empty... I, however, stuck the course moving from one similar job to another in the hopes of finding my hearts' solace in one of the various paths I found myself. 

Eventually, my soul was tired and needed an alternative. I became a mother and I rediscovered life again. I discovered the young girl that I had been, and with the birth of my first child, I rekindled my love for clothing design. It was amazing and for a while, things were going great... that is until life happened. I was thrown back into the search of a bill-paying alternative as my passion was not delivering on that front. everyone wanted me to be doing better than I was and could be. 

The ultimate catch 22 is for your dreams is when you are told you are a parent and there is more than yourself or your dreams to think about. I threw myself back into the corporate cog finding various situations that would give me the ability to pursue my dream as I worked to meet life's demands. And as it always is, corporate wanted,  needed more time from me. They needed me more and between them and my kids, I was sucked into another abyss of watching as others fulfilled their dreams or I hope they did as it appeared so to me. 

I grew resentful and angry at life and people I felt had played a part in my losing my passion. I was happy only around my kids. It is a nagging feeling that keeps you coming back even when you think you have accepted failure. even thought you may have moved on with your life, only to realise you still hold some of the same dreams you had when you were a teenager. 

The feeling is almost heart-wrenchingly painful. you try to spend time on other "stuff" that matters, but you are in constant internal turmoil. 

It is similar to when you have your first heartbreak. Inexplicable. 

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