All through my life, I have not been the kind of person who holds on to love, longer than necessary. Whenever I am with someone and I notice that our differences are irreconcilable, I walk away from them. Not because I don’t love them enough to fight for us but because I don’t see the point in wasting each other’s time when I have my whole life ahead of me to meet new people. Another thing about me is how quickly I move on after a breakup. My pastor once asked me, “How do you manage to move on from relationships without looking back?” I smiled and told him, “I don’t know how I do it but I’m glad to have that ability.”

Things, however, took a complete turn when I reconnected with Godson. He was my primary schoolmate. We were good friends back then until our classmates decided that we were more than friends. They started teasing us that we were boyfriend and girlfriend. I didn’t like that so I stopped talking to him until we completed school and went our separate ways. In 2017, I found him on Facebook and sent him a friend request. He accepted it and sent me a message asking, “Where have you been all these years?” From there the conversation picked up, and the embers of our friendship rekindled. We were so happy to be in touch that we spoke every day. Out of the constant communication grew a fondness between us.

Five months after reconnecting, we decided to meet in person. When we met he told me he had feelings for me. He then asked if I liked him. I liked him and I wanted him to be my boyfriend, but that day I said no. Thankfully, he didn’t give up on me. He kept trying to woo me until I said yes to him two months later. He wasn’t my first boyfriend but everything was different with him. He spoke my love language without even knowing them. Within him, I learned that love has many faces. And each day we were together, I fell in love with all his faces. He also wasn’t my first, but he truly was my first love. I remember how sure I was that I would either spend the rest of my life with him or no one else.

READ MORE: My Mental Illness Took Everything Away From My Relationship Until I Had Nothing Left

A couple of months into the relationship, we had a discussion about our tribal differences. Godson told me, “I spoke to my family about you but they stopped listening when I mentioned your tribe. I was very disheartened but I won’t give up. I will keep fighting for us until they realize that you are different from whatever bad experience they had with someone from your tribe.” So we carried on with our relationship in hopes that things will change. We were happy. We even forgot that there was a tribal elephant in our relationship. Months passed, and a year passed uneventfully. Another year came, and we weren’t getting any younger. We had to address the elephant in the relationship so we could move forward with our future. He spoke to his family but they still didn’t approve of me. They didn’t even take the chance to know me. They just wrote me off because of their tribal bigotry.

I told Godson, “It’s been two years already but we are still marking time in this relationship. I can’t keep doing this, I am done.” He asked, “Is this what you want?” I told him I couldn’t get what I want so it was best to just walk away. I was hurt but I could handle it. The next day he called to persuade me to take him back but I didn’t do that. However, we kept talking from time to time. A few months later, we got back together. I don’t even know how it happened. The tribal issue persisted. Sometimes Godson would call me sounding angry, “I don’t know what else to do for my parents to understand that you are the woman I love and that your tribe shouldn’t prevent us from being together.” I shared his anger and I understood it too well. After all, I was the one his family was rejecting. The pain of knowing that they would never embrace me was difficult to bear. It got to a time we decided that we would no longer talk about it. We would just enjoy our relationship and see how it goes.

I Didn’t Marry You To Become A Baby-Making Machine—Beads Media

We were happy for three years until recently, when the topic came up again. This time I have walked away for good. I am not going to look back. It’s difficult. It’s so painful that my tears won’t fall. My heart hurts. There’s a heaviness in my soul that I cannot shake off. I try to keep a happy disposition when I am out on the social scene but deep down I just want to break down and cry. I feel like crying will allow me to grieve what I lost. I want to grieve the five years I spent loving him and move on. I don’t have anyone to talk to so I’m here, pouring my heart out. I have felt different kinds of pain but this one is different.

Why can’t people understand that we are all one people even though we come from different backgrounds? When will we stop writing people off just because they come from a particular tribe with certain stereotypes? Why won’t we give people the chance to show us who they are before we decide they are not good enough for us?

— Fab

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