As I grew older, I wanted more recognition and attention. I figured out, in order to do so I must show love to others. In other words, to pamper people with gifts as that’s the love language often used by my mum to my brother and I. I model after that hoping to get a gift for the most important person in my life, my granny (mama).
I remember I was nine, I wanted so badly to surprise mama for her birthday. I gave it a good thought and decided to get her favorite thing ”cigarettes”. I MUST get her a box of cigarette and I am going to wrap it nicely with a wrapper and placed it somewhere obvious to surprise her. The truth is, with my allowance it will take months for me to save enough just to get a packet for her. Also, my age limits make it illegal to purchase it for her. So I came up with a not so brilliant idea. I waited till she was busy cooking dinner in the kitchen, I sneaked into the room, opened her cabinet and got a pack of new cigarette box from her supply. Feeling accomplished, I quickly wrapped the box with some fanciful wrapper with a small handwritten note saying “for you, happy birthday mama!” and placed the gift on top of her purse.
Nightfall, as I waited excitedly and anxiously for the surprise to be discovered, she finally walks into the room, open the cabinet and saw the gift. I peeked through the ajar door. Seeing her unwrapping the gift and her face was brimming with a wide smile. My emotions went high, I was pleased and felt a sense of accomplishment. I finally made someone happy and hopefully felt loved. Nevertheless, I felt a little shameful within me as I knew the gift was not purchased, I stole it from her. As I braced myself into the room, I prayed hard that she will not notice the gift I gave was a stolen item from her own possession. “thank you for buying me a pack of cigarettes!” she said as I strolled into the room. For once, I felt super great, my tears were rolling down my cheeks. I tried to avoid eye contact with her, not wanting to show her my tears. She followed by saying, “you’re a big girl now, save up your money and don’t waste it on cigarettes for me”. I cried harder as I climbed up to my bed, covering my face with my pillow, trying hard to sob quietly.
That night went silent. That night I reflected a lot. I thought to myself, how did my mama not noticed it and pretended it was a gift I bought. Not only did she not expose me, but she also thanked me for it too. Somehow, I felt ashamed, very ashamed of myself. For not being honest, it was as though I don’t deserve the praise and love from her anymore. I have disappointed her. That night was a rough night, I did not sleep well. Before sunrise, I promised myself this will never happen again. I will never lie to her ever again.
How can a simple intention or gesture of yearning for love get me into feeling bad and shameful about myself? As I grow older, I understand that giving gifts is not my love language. It’s thoughts that count. Being myself, to give what I can counts. Thinking back, I would give my mama a big hug and thanking her would mean so much more instead.
