Finally, the Privileged Life
‘I want to be the girl who makes your bad days better, and the one that makes you say ‘My life has changed since I met her’- author unknown.
When I look in the mirror these days and see my reflection staring right back at me, I can’t help but smile and call the person in it privileged. Not because of any financial abundance (I am comfortable, not wealthy); not because I have been able to achieve much more than Aunty could ever have imagined possible for a ragged child covered in a gooey, mushy porridge mess. No, I call myself privileged because the Lagos experience did not turn me bitter. With what I was subjected to 365 days for over five years, I could have become vicious, resentful and spiteful. Instead, I am kind, loving, forgiving, generous, sensitive (and sympathetic to other people’s pain); I am a giver, I am resilient, I am a motivator, I can be funny as heck, and I frequently have a ball laughing at my own self; I am full of joy, child-like, spontaneous and always ready for a laugh. Above all, I am God-loving. I am well aware that the purity of heart I enjoy is a sheer miracle and could only result from God’s amazing grace. Somehow, the never-ending, overwhelming, unmerited grace of God preserved the innocence of my heart and prevented it from becoming contaminated with bitterness and hatred towards Aunty, her family, or others around me. That is pure, unadulterate honour. I am super, duper grateful and do not at all take it for granted.
Do I think forgiving Aunty makes me a better person than her? No, I don’t. But I do believe it makes me a more privileged person. Choosing to be ‘the bigger person in a situation where great harm has been done to you is anything but easy. As humans, we dream of ‘getting even with those who have wronged or harmed us. Let’s be honest, if the occasion ever arises for us to pay back harm for harm, without hesitation or the grace of God, many of us would do so without a second thought. That does not exclude me. It is why I call the ability to forgive my uncle’s wife a privilege. I could have become calloused, unfeeling and incapable of loving, wanting to hurt because I was hurt, uncaring because I was uncared for, and unkind because I was maltreated. Countless people were once in a position similar to mine when they were children but did not turn out like me. That I escaped without being permanently and irreparably damaged is a wonder. I am joyously, exceedingly thankful.
Of course, that is not to say that I am not sad that all that happened took place. Who knows what kind of person I could have become without the Lagos experience? But life, as my grandmother used to say, gives you many gifts as you travel along its pathways and more often than not, you are not given a choice to accept or reject some of those gifts. They are forced on you whether you want them or not. But you do have a say in how you choose to use what was given or forced on you.
I was given hardship and abuse under my uncle’s roof, but I chose (and continue to do so every day) not to hand the same to someone else as I journey through life. I don’t have to be the person that Aunty was. I have chosen not to be the person that Aunty was. I have also chosen to implant into my heart that no one person has a right to make another feel small and insignificant intentionally; I have chosen to believe that everyone has the right to dream dreams and aspire to be more — even if they were born with less. Not only do I believe all of these, but I had also taken steps to help others achieve their dreams — at my own cost, using my resources even at times when they were limited and barely sufficient to meet my own needs.
People build all kinds of legacies. Mine is that of kindness and empathy. When all’s said and done, I want my life to reflect my principle — that everyone deserves to be treated with kindness regardless of their station in life. I want them to know that it is possible not to hurt and wound others even if you were wounded and hurt. Had I not been blessed with the ability to forgive, I would not be the person I am today. The person I am today is kind and generous, with a deep capacity to love. I love that person.
One of my closest friends, who knows the full story of my life, once asked if I consider my life a success. Since the term success can mean different things to different people, at first, I was tempted to ask, ‘success in what way?’ Then I realised that it was not necessary. Whatever her definition would have been, I’d learned ago what success means to me: to have enough to meet my needs, the needs of those of my loved ones, as well as the needs of others who come to me for help. It means being able to give of myself sincerely, freely and openly. It also means being able to forgive.
Finally, when my life journey is over, I would like to be remembered for four things: that I was kind, compassionate, tenacious, and forgiving. Forgiveness, because it was what set me free from the bondage of abuse; compassion because it gave me a heart for the maltreated and the maligned; kindness because my soul and spirit flourished when I reached out and met the needs of another; and tenacious, because it was what stoked the flickering fire of hope in my heart at moments when all my eyes could see was palls of darkness.
That is who I am. That is what self-realisation has revealed to me about ME.
And so I come to the end of my story. It’s been a pleasure sharing it with you.
Now, go out there, kick-ass, and never again allow anyone to make you feel less-than or tell you that you are not enough!
With all my heart,
Sarah Udoh-Grossfurthner
THE BEGINNING…
