Battles of Expectations
Looking through the list of books on her shelf, Imelda grazed the edges of the wood, mindlessly lost in her thoughts. Thinking about the night she had had with her man, she dropped the Bernard Shaw classic she had just picked and decided it was a good day to enjoy a Sidney Sheldon. A cold and windy Saturday morning with the clouds pregnant with rain, eager to birth waters on the grounds of Lagos, what more could she ask for? So, wrapped in her blanket, with a hot cup of ginger tea in her hands, she proceeded to her bed to read from an author that finds a way always to uplift her spirits when she becomes unsure.
Imelda is the kind of young woman you could call driven — practical, analytical, meticulous. Planning her life was her favourite pastime making her enjoy a smooth, orderly life with few surprises. At least as orderly as life can get in 2020 in Nigeria under President Muhammadu Buhari. Despite her love for her job as an Angular Developer, she could not truthfully say it was her first choice on her long future ambition list. Although she tries to put up the exterior of a spontaneous and free-spirited person, she is not. She never left things to chance, but not many people knew this about her. Yet, she is heavily burdened with reconciling the plans she has for herself and the expectations of those closest to her.
Sadly, the tingly thoughts of her boyfriend calling her a selfish bitch could not leave her memory, and she struggled to pay attention to the thrilling book in front of her. Like most millennials, she thrived in doing better than the generation before her. Her mother had been one of those professionals with about 8 consonants following her name. She arguably had reached the peak of her career, having worked her way up the ladder to the current position. Imelda admired her for it. But she always felt her mother’s journey to the top could have been smoother had she not been burdened with society’s responsibilities. Perhaps she could have moved faster if she did not have to be constantly held back, caring for her husband and children while in her 20s. And consequently, she would have been able to empower and inspire more people than she had.
Her view on marriage and childbearing was unconventional. She dared not share them openly for fear of being subjected to a week at MFM’s deliverance session.
Following her sister’s wedding two years prior and the subsequent birth of her nephew, the pressure on her to get married has become more intense. For every family function attended since then, the recurring remarks in the usual well-meaning patronizing tone from relatives have been, ‘we are waiting for you next; pregnancy in your 30s is difficult.
In all fairness to them, these are valid concerns considering her biological clock was ticking if she ever planned to have her own children. But she was just 25, with about 10 years more to start worrying about biological clocks. Besides, it was 2020, for goodness sake. Thanks to technology, surrogates, and many other options are available for women to have babies at any age.
She dropped the book as she had lost all concentration. Slowly, she read through her chats again with her boyfriend just the day before. As she looked through, she had to admit that he, in fact, raised many valid points, and perhaps he was even correct, and she is a selfish bitch.
Among other things, he had complained about her aloofness and constant need to be alone. He found it annoying, considering that companionship was one reason humans get into relationships. Imelda would instead read a book than spend time cuddling or watching a movie with her man.
Imelda could genuinely not fault this loving young man for feeling like he was alone in the relationship. But she was distraught about what to make of her constant battle of trying to make something out of her life and trying to please the people around her. Steve was the kind of man you could count on. He was fun, responsible, empathetic, competent, and loyal — all the makings of a good husband, if not an exciting one. Steve was stable, which was reassuring since Imelda wanted a life well planned without surprises. Why was she finding it hard to work with this man to make their relationship a success?
Was it her fear born of the belief that commitment was synonymous with failure, her mother being an example? Having experienced it many times in her life, it was not something she could get accustomed to. Disappointment stings, and for driven people like her, it is disorienting. Yes, she is obsessed with success, but she does not see what is selfish about that. After all, she knew better than most that her success was about helping others. And the world is never in short supply of people that need help. Caring about people other than oneself helps remind us that we are not the center of the universe. She knew this, but how does that make her selfish?
In this moment of uncertainty, she cast her mind back to her time in secondary school when she had gone through her first emotional meltdown. The words of Monsieur Monroe, her French teacher, still echo. Thinking of that faithful Friday evening when she had lost it, wondering; why she had to choose between being in the arts, her passion, and the sciences, which is expected of every bright student. He told her, “life is complicated, but, ultimately, you must decide for yourself what is most important to you. If not, the world is more than ready to give you a list to adhere to. Do not let the expectations and ideas of others limit who you are. So, what will it be? The elderly man in front of her asked pointedly. He leaned forward towards her ears, and in a tone not more than a whisper, he said: “how far are you willing to go to make your mark on the world?”