I looked ok, but I wasn't...

Umva Muhazi🤎

You might be reading this in April, a few days after my birthday when it went live or maybe much later, depending on when you came across it. But today, as I write, it is Friday, 20th February. I’ve written this across different seasons before it finally made its way out. So, what you are reading is a two-month journey.

I hadn’t planned on being this open here, but putting pieces of my life into words has quietly become part of who I am. Lately, Lady Whistledown has been my muse. I just keep writing, and I’ve stopped worrying about how it might look to others when I share parts of myself. After all, we are all just stories in motion.

I spent a whole year and two months looking forward to this day, but when it came, the only thing I wanted was to run and hide from it. Instead, I stood still. I’ve mastered the art of facing any giant that stands before me, however small I may look in front of it.

Today showed me that I have been fooling myself. What I thought was healing and moving on was nothing more than covering something up and pretending I couldn’t see it. Today, I had the most vulnerable conversation (ruhura umutima, lol), a conversation that should have happened long ago, one that revealed just how blind, stupid and perhaps naive, I had been. I don’t know why it had to happen today of all days, or why I allowed it in when my mind was already unsettled. But it did, and it stirred everything.

We finally sat down today. I wasn’t steady at all; nervous, restless, unsure where to place my eyes, with thoughts all over the place. It took effort to calm myself. And there he was, smiling like always, the same familiar friend. Funny enough, just two days before, he had been on my mind. Maybe I missed him, or maybe he simply crossed my thoughts. When we hugged, I held on longer than I should have; crazy, right? It felt like I was trying to reclaim all the missed moments.

In the end, we talked things through. And I’m glad we did. It brought clarity, and a kind of release, even if it came with discomfort and didn’t make perfect sense. Still, I’m grateful it happened.

Tonight, before writing this piece, I cried endlessly, like a child who couldn’t hold it in anymore. It hit me just how much I had been carrying without truly dealing with it. Maybe it’s time to begin real healing. I sat there on my couch, lost in thought, tears falling. Eating felt impossible, so did showering, reading, watching anything, or even listening to music. I just stayed there, quiet, staring into the void whispering, “God, really?” At some point, I even laughed, I thought I was going crazy. But I prayed, deeply. It may not sound as heavy here as it felt in the moment, but some pains run incredibly deep.

Truth is, I’ve been having mental breakdowns lately, even before all this. Not depression, no. Just an overload of everything. Too much fatigue. Too much pressure to get everything right. Too much trying to fix things for everyone else while neglecting myself. Too much curiosity, too many places to be, too many thoughts running at once. And yet, somehow, I kept going, showing up, doing my best even when getting out of bed felt like a big ask. And today? Today really troubled me. (Do people actually find peace with some of the things they do to others??? Honestly? And how heavy is “I’m sorry” that it barely exists in some people’s vocabulary? mphba!)

Today is Friday, February 27^th, a week after realizing that my life has been dancing to its own rhythm. Today, I made a decision—to pause. To ease up and breathe. I stepped back from some responsibilities. I logged out of social media and deleted the apps from my phone. If only I could do the same with WhatsApp and work. If only I could disappear for a while and hide from all this noise. But it’s okay. Slowing down is enough for now. Today, I chose silence, with myself. I’ll gather strength and continue to serve well in the institution God placed me in. Everything and everyone else can wait until I feel like myself again.

March 8^th.

What a day! I skipped school because rest was non-negotiable. I had a very busy week, and as if that wasn’t enough, I had a file to release on Friday without fail; that’s how I ended up working until 4:30 a.m. This had never happened before. Gathering all the information, doing the analysis, and getting the file ready in one day. it surprised me. Maybe I’m more capable than I give myself credit for. Or maybe it’s because I love telling stories; because sometimes I write until the sun comes up and feel completely fulfilled. This is what happens when you love what you do. I guess I tell financial stories at work, lol. Literally, this weekend, I slept.

Today, I stepped out of the house only to get my hair done. I came straight back home, though I had wanted to take myself out on a solo date. I couldn’t. First, my spot was almost closing by the time I left the salon. Second, I’ve been avoiding spending too much time alone with myself, it hasn’t felt entirely safe. I came back and cooked a very delicious meal. Prisca texted to wish me a happy Women’s Day. Instead of replying in the same spirit, I told her my heart felt unbearably heavy. Within minutes, she was knocking on my door—in her pajamas, lol.

I hugged her and cried like a child who hadn’t seen her mother in a year. I didn’t ask her to come. She simply asked if I was home, and there she was. I usually dislike unplanned visits, but this one felt divinely arranged. Prisca held me in her arms as I cried, letting me vent, letting me be upset, reassuring me gently, even kissing my forehead and telling me I’d be okay. The next thing I remember, we were enjoying the food and laughing. And of course, where Prisca is, you pray like you’ve been anointed by heaven to break every chain. That was the last time I cried over my wahalas, until now.

If choosing friends wisely is a skill, then I must have done something right. I know God orchestrated everything, but the goodness in these friendships feels overwhelming. I have never been loved like this before. I have never been seen and cared for the way I am now.

March 21^st.

Therapy was never something I considered. The idea of sitting across from a stranger and unpacking my life didn’t appeal to me. I doubted they could truly grasp the depth of my wahalas or reach the places that need healing. But recently, I reconsidered. I realized it might be worth trying, trusting people to do what they’re called to do. I used to think friends might grow tired, or that everyone is already dealing with their own struggles. Or that people might misunderstand you because you appear fine on the outside, you show up, you perform, you look like someone who just came back from a restful holiday. Nothing about me matched the weight I carried inside, except maybe losing a bit of weight, and even that wasn’t obvious since I didn’t have much to lose anyway! 😁

Talking to friends is good, and trust me, I’ve been talking, and it helps. Even though somewhere along the way I developed trust issues that make me turn my tongue seven times before opening up. But I needed more than “ooohs,” “I’m sorry,” or “I’ll pray for you.” I needed something long-term. I needed someone who would sit and truly listen. Someone who doesn’t mind the stories coming out in no particular order and still helps me find a way out of the mess.

But why is therapy so expensive though? Why? Still, it’s worth it cyokoze. So, I gave in, and today I found one. I actually found myself a coach. And oooh, how good she is! May God bless her. Today was just an introduction, and she said she first wanted to make sure she was the right fit for me (c’mon, who does that? what kind of green flag is that?). I knew from the moment she started speaking that she was what I needed.

Who would have imagined that madam “strong and independent” would go this route? But here I am. I know many of you need it too, but you’re held back by certain beliefs or fear. Someone once told me that opening up can be a form of deliverance. If you truly value your mental well-being, allow yourself that space, seek help, professional help. Prayer is powerful, yes, but God often works through people too. I’m embracing this.

March 23^rd.

All these wahalas, combined with work pressure (and I remember proudly writing on my CV that I can work under pressure, lol), led to a stomach crisis. The pain has been intense for about two weeks now, it felt like something was erupting inside me. Some days I couldn’t sleep, sit, or even walk comfortably. I’d just end up crying, hhhhh.

So today, I finally took a proper break from work, long enough to recover in every area of my life. God knows I needed it. Trust me, you never truly realize how exhausted you are until you step away. On the first day of my break, I spent the entire day at the hospital. When the doctor read the endoscopy results, he leaned back and shook his head. The rest is history, the journey continues. It felt like life was telling me, “If you don’t take a break, I will take it for you.” Urabireba life yafashe break, lol!

In a hospital gown, waiting to be sedated.

So now, as I take care of this temple, I have plans. I want to go out and see the world. I want to sit for long hours having heartfelt conversations. I want to visit friends and host them. I want to watch movies and read books. I want to attend events. I want to let go of what hurt me and embrace joy in the days ahead. I want to explore new places. I want to put my life back on track. I want to come alive again. God knows how much I’ve missed Musanze, and I’ve already booked myself a cozy corner, far from everything, up on a hill. I’m already excited.

My hill Eco-Lodge💚

April 19^th 

Life has been good lately. I can’t believe I’m going back to work tomorrow. This break has truly done me good; and funny enough, I didn’t even sleep much. It felt like I had so much to do, and sleeping almost seemed like a misallocation of time. I guess sometimes you don’t need sleep to recharge, maybe I just needed a mental vacation. Tuzaryama mu ijuru, right? kuko there is a lot to do down here.

One thing is certain: I poured into myself during this period. I invested in myself, and I’m proud of that. I can’t wait for the returns, even though little miss left herself broke as if there were no tomorrow after “chopping life.” It was worth it. Now I feel fresh mu nguni zose.

Last but not least, I almost fell for somebody’s son, or maybe I did, but God knows I had to run for my life, hehehe. Mbiswa ma! Lol!

Q1 came in strong, but I’m still here—steady, refreshed, and grateful. I appreciate everyone who stood by me and showed up when it mattered. Sometimes ubuzima buturusha imbaraga ariko ntago turekura. I held on, and I made it through.

Tomorrow, I’m back at the office. Let’s see what life has in store this time.

Oya, no one stole my money😁. I spent it myself! #TwinLakes💙💚