UNFILTERED: THE STORY OF OLANMA

 Dear Diary--- or whoever is reading this,

My name is Olanma. 

It means a beautiful thing- born in Imo state-where girls are raised to walk with grace, speak with fire, and glow without asking. ABU M NWAANYI IGBO, first daughter of a mother who swore I looked like a poetry in motion. funny, right? Named after beauty itself.... but I've spent most of my life trying to feel like I deserved it. A name like mine should be a crown, right? But sometimes, names are promises you grow into later OR never at all.

Because the truth is, I didn't tick the boxes.

Not the skin --mine was more than canvas. Not the perfect waistline or the flawless hairline. Not the smooth face people expected from a girl with a name like ''OLANMA". They said I was beautiful, but only in parts.

               Beautiful, if only.

             Beautiful, almost.

            Beautiful, but not quite.     So, I learned to chase it. I became the girl who tried to earn her name instead of just wear it. And somewhere in the middle of all that chasing, she appeared-- this version of me. Or maybe this story isn't even about me. 

                 Maybe she's someone I imagined. 

                Maybe she's someone hiding in plain sight. But her story starts with leaving MR FILTER and falling for something that promised better.

  YES---Mr. Filter.

You know him ---smooth-talking, dreamy finish, makes you look like porcelain dipped in moonlight on social media. We were married for years. People thought we are perfect together and he was everything I thought I needed. Soft blur, fake confidence, picture-perfect happiness. We had a good run, him and I. After years of marriage, developed a crying skin underneath a glowing online picture with a lot of concerns from reactions, hormonal changes, habits and diet. GIRL, my pores had more drama than a Nollywood season finale.

Then one day I had enough. I wanted something real. I wanted to wake up, look in the mirror and not flinch. So, I packed up my glow rings and said goodbye to Mr. filter.

YES, I GOT A DIVORCE

Then I met someone new, MR HEALTHY ORGANIC. Whew, that man? H came with all the right promises. And for a while, my skin sang love songs. Compliments came like blessings and also like NEPA bills--steady and surprising. People swore I was glowing from within. for once I believed the hype. For as long as our love was fresh, my baby treated me right.

TWO YEARS LATER, things changed

MR HEALTHY started giving too much, too intense, too many signs. So, I did what I thought was best. I stepped away. Thought I'd try someone gentler and safer- MR. MILD&SYNTHETIC--the kind that doesn't ask too many questions. The kind that whispers, ''I won't hurt you'. He was calm, fragrance-free, soothing, hydrating. He promised peace that surpasses all organic understanding......hahahahaha funny right? 

BUT NO, the moment I left my lover of two years, the moment I made the switch my skin declared war- everything came undone.

PDL.ACNE. DARKSPOTS.ROUGNESS. The whole haunted cast returned like I owned them rent, like relatives that only show up when you are broke. I stared in the mirror and didn't recognize myself. And now, I'm stuck in the middle of a skincare love triangle.

And I-- whoever I am in this story-- stood there wondering. 

              Should I go back to MR. HEALTHY and try again? Beg him to take me back, even if he's a little harsh? Do I sit with my skin in silence and wait for it to forgive me? Or do I accept that maybe healing was never in the product, but in the pause?

BECAUSE THE TRUTH IS.....IT'S DEEPER THAN SKINCARE

some say the girl in this story is me. Others swear it's just fiction. Maybe it's both. Maybe neither.

What I know is --she feels like someone I used to be. OR Someone I might still become. 

U KNOW! people tell her she matters-- she means a lot to them, they admire her, she lights up the room like her first beloved will always say......but there is someone or something they will choose over her. Always the afterthought, the almost. 

OOO YES, I'M OLANMA.... nobody's favorite- I can be my own. nobody's special one-not even to my reflection right now.

But maybe......maybe that's the point.

Maybe I have to choose me, even when I don't feel worthy. Maybe I have to sit in this skin- no filter, no false glow- and love it back to life. Maybe the healing won't come from a bottle. Maybe it starts with looking at my scars and saying, ''you're beautiful, even like this.''

SO YEAH, I'M OLANMA.

The girl who left the filter, kissed the glow, and is now walking barefaced through heartbreak.... not because she has it all figured out. But because this time, she's not running from the mirror.

                        @dubaemo