Even If You Know Me Well, You Don’t Know This.

I find myself reluctantly participating in a writer’s challenge or boot camp whereby the idea is to write and post everyday for the entire month of July. Yes, I found the idea daunting at first but the pros eventually outweighed the cons. So..
First day and first topic.. Even If You Know Me Well, You Don’t Know This…
We all have that side of us we never show the world, our friends and basically things we never feel are important enough to share.  What are those little things most of you don’t know about me?

Sometimes it is visible and other times not, so, I am quite sure none of you notice the scar on my upper lip which I got trying to jump over a mini barbed wire fence in primary school. My leg got caught in the barbed wire and I fell face down onto gravel! I'm glad I only walked away with a split lip and nary a scar on my face.

I find the scar on my thigh a reminder of one of the best days of my life! I’d spent part of that day with this boy I had a mad crush on in University before it happened and the people who were with me when glass shattered are quite special because we had such a fantastic time bonding that day.

Whenever I write from the heart and publish, I do it in a roundabout way. I feel that doing so won’t leave me as exposed as I felt when writing the piece and people won’t pose a lot of questions.

I was so bad at Maths that when it came to sitting National Exams, my mother asked if the Math exam was optional so I don’t sit for it and my brother told me to try my hardest and get the passing grade.

People think I am in a mood or something whenever they find me by myself not knowing that I am at peace with being by myself and find those moments comforting. This is why my man hunt is an ongoing process.

I was violently ill during my university finals that I contemplated taking a dead year. The little soldier in me refused to because I had studied so hard. I ended up sitting for them in sickness.

Most of you think I love my lips what with forever plying them with lip balm and gloss. The truth is; if I don’t do any of that, and since I hate having to lick them all the time, they dry up to the point of developing dry patches which I find myself pinching to bloodiness when in thought. Pinching my lip is my obsessive habit.

I spent the best part of today pouring my heart out in a letter to/ memories of a lost love. Someone who up to now has refused to let me forget him. I felt a lot better after writing it and even got the little urge to publish. But… It will never see the light of day on Simply Shanah.

I think that is enough for now.