The Beginning

When I started this column on a whim and a prayer in March 2014, I didn’t give it much thought. Beyond the initial rush of having a little spot in the glorious sun that is the biggest, most widely read newspaper in the country, all I knew was that I wanted to be a columnist.

But everyone wants to be a columnist. And very few people actually have what it takes to be a good one.

I, for one, definitely didn’t.

Not at first.

And not for a while.

On shaky legs and with self-doubt bigger than just about everything else, I struggled week in and week out to find my voice, find something to write about and find some sort of balance.

Most weeks, it was a mess.

Others, there were moments of brilliance.

But mostly, it wasn’t the kind of writing I imagined I would be doing when I used to daydream about where life would take me.

Some weeks, 500 words felt like a mountain I could never scale.

Others, condensing everything I wanted to say into one little column felt like torture.

Eventually, I learnt.

Willingly and perhaps unknowingly, I threw myself into the deep end, and eventually, I started to swim.

With a lot of tough love from Johnathan Beukes and many, many pep talks from Martha Mukaiwa, eventually, I started to feel like a writer.

I shared stories about my (lack of a) love life, my family and my friends. I wrote about a friendship that fell apart, came back together and broke my heart all over again. I added my two cents on what it’s like to navigate life as a fat, fiercely feminist, brown, single woman in a world that very often doesn’t like us very much.

I gave a little bit of my heart and soul in the hopes that someone out there might find it funny, enlightening or might be able to say “me too, girl. Me too”.

And… It changed my life.

Albeit utterly ill-advised, very few people get to say they learnt how to be a columnist right in the spotlight, and it’s a chapter of my life I will never forget.

For the lessons, the critiques and the way I had to fight my way through the mire of doubt, writer’s block and comparison.

For your time, your attention and your trust.

For pushing me beyond my comfort zone, forcing me to show up week after week and teaching me how to “be afraid but do it anyway”…

Thank you.

If it wasn’t for this column, I wouldn’t be half the writer I am today.

And if it wasn’t for you, dear reader, I wouldn’t be much of anything at all.

So thank you. I love you. And goodbye.

It’s bittersweet, but it’s not the end.