The Empathic Social Observer (TESO)

I’ve been coming off a vulnerability hangover from my last post. I don’t know who coined that phrase, but it could not be more apt. There is a strange wrenching that follows honesty – the moment after you have opened a door and suddenly become aware that other people can now see inside. How do people do this constantly on social media? I did not start this blog intending to write about my life.…

AI Generated Image. For the longest time, I have preferred writing about other people. Watching them. Listening to them. Trying to understand why they do what they do. The empathic observer’s lens has almost always pointed outward. It’s safer that way. Other people’s contradictions are fascinating. Your own are… expensive. Turning that lens on myself has always felt like volunteering for an…

There is a quiet pandemic moving through the relational lives of young people. It does not look like chaos. It looks like information. Endless information. How to communicate.How to set boundaries.How to attract.How to keep interest.How to maintain power.How to avoid being taken for granted.How to avoid being “too much.”How to avoid being “not enough.” Every scroll offers instruction. Do…

Obinna had imagined himself generous when he said it. They were seated at the small secondhand crystal table they bought in their first year of marriage. The glass was scratched. Chika used to joke that they should replace it now that they could afford better. He always said no. It had survived with them. He liked that. “I want us to open our marriage,” he said. “What do you think?” She didn’t…

A lot of men don’t like being loved by a woman. They think they do. They sing about it, write poems, cry on park benches. But when it comes – raw and real and all-consuming – they retreat. Not always immediately. Sometimes, they smile through it, say “you’re just too much” with a kiss on the forehead. But they retreat, eventually. Who am I to talk? I’m only a woman. Only a woman who once handed…

I was having a conversation with a friend when he flinched at the word submission. Not at the idea itself, exactly, but at the possibility that I might believe it. Or not. He paused, then laughed awkwardly and said he wasn’t sure whether I was a feminist or not. Take cover! The taboo word has been mentioned. So I asked him, calmly, whether he thought it was possible for a woman to be a…

[Final piece of The Economics of Softness series] A letter from someone who feels deeply, yet wants to master the game. There’s something about your books – The 48 Laws of Power, The Art of Seduction, The 33 Strategies of War – that made me pause. Not because I didn’t understand them, but because I did. Perhaps too well. They opened my eyes to a new way of seeing people: first through…

[Second post of my End-of-year, now turned New-Year series] We hardly ever talk about the economic side of softness, or love. And by “we,” I mean women. Especially now, when “love” is being peddled like thrift – the unholy transaction of love for money. We are shamed for demanding any form of exchange, and for some of us who are constantly fluid in our becoming, even the thought of it makes us…

[First piece for my End of Year series – The Economics of Softness] If I were a man,coldness would pass as sense.As expected. Distance would be mistaken for discipline. As a woman, I learn – later than expected –that softness is an unprotected resource. No one warns youhow a certain brand of loving gathers shame the kind that is generous,the kind that gives to create art,that keeps…

Photo credit: Omar:. Lopez-Rinconhttps://unsplash.com/@procopiopi Dear Men Who Think Unconditional Love Isn’t for Them,First, let me offer you a warm, honest hug—for carrying such a heavy weight. And a lie.A lie from the pit of hell.Unconditional love exists. It’s everywhere. It begins with your Creator—God—whose love is infinite and unwavering. It flows through mothers, siblings, children. Yes,…

By Meestique

(FROM THE GENTLE MADNESS OF POETS SERIES by Meestique)

by Meestique, The Empathic Social Observer. Choosing peace over polish in a world with perception. Photo by: Matsvei Liatkouskihttps://unsplash.com/photos/a-delicate-blue-butterfly-rests-on-a-pink-flower-3KkEfjC_I-Q?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditShareLink If you had to pick—being seen as put-together, or actually feeling light inside—which one would you go for?I’ve…

“I’ve spent years studying everything except surrender.”But I think this is what true softness means—to trust that God’s timing, not effort, births ease. If you’re anything like me—someone who excelled in school and thought that achievement translated to success and wisdom in every area of life—then you must have realised by now how deceptive that mindset can be.We were praised for working hard,…

Admont Abbey Library, Austria I used to think a safe space was a person—someone I could cling to,someone who would anchor me with their knowing.But I’ve been corrected.The library is my safe space.Here, there is no right or wrong.No pressure to choose the correct face,no fear that my words will be too much,or not enough.No deed is too direct,or too restrained.There’s no need to perform.No…

Dear Mandy,When I look back at grandma’s voice in my life, what echoes most is her steady insistence on self-worth. She spoke it not as theory, but as something she believed I deserved to hold onto—even when she herself was still learning what it meant. And isn’t that what mothers do? They plant seeds, even before they know the full tree that might grow from them. However, self-worth without…