Mama’s Got A Life – I Flipped My Blog

The Art of Juggling Balls. Yep, that’s me, ball juggler extraordinaire. It’s dirty work that can get sticky at times, make you wheeze from exertion and messy-dress in a hurry. That’s the mad, amazing reality of my life living as an expat in a country where I don’t speak the language and the customs take a moment or two to decipher while raising two girls, yo-yo dieting with intense determination, keeping the flame burning with my hubby, traveling to bucket list places and embarking on the the scariest, most personally demanding writing project of my life.

I’m a mom in pursuit of her writing dreams while navigating life as an expat wife and #YOLO (You Only Live Once) is my mantra.

Join me as I post about my travels, foodie adventures, writing musings and whatever other balls I may be juggling at the time.

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When Love Is Enough

I’ve always believed in love. I sighed into the pages of my mom’s stolen Mills & Boons as a kid and when I got older, I cursed Rhett Butler for not loving Scarlett enough. I wanted a man that loved me as deeply as Heathcliff loved Catherine and a connection like Romeo and Juliet had. That instantaneous, mind-blowing, all-consuming love. The kind that steals your breath and heart and changes your world completely.

I’ve always believed that I’d find it too. And I did. I found it when I was young, hopeful and at the cusp of becoming my own woman. It seems right that I fell in love as an 18 year old University student because our love could evolve and grow with us – together and more complete for it. I recently read a quote by Aristotle, “Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies” and I thought ‘Yes’! It made sense to me because I truly believe that we were born to love each other.

My husband drew a young woman all his life, having a penchant for scribbling. When we initially met, he still drew her. She was me. Not, we looked similar. She. Was. Me. My doppelganger. (I’ve seen the proof from early years too.) The romantic in me would like to believe that it is the soul’s cry for help. Ironically, he stopped drawing her shortly after we fell in love.

Unlike the standard romance, when we met, ‘it’ didn’t hit me then. I did not experience love at first sight (although I have no doubt that many do experience that too). Like Cher said, it’s in his kiss. When we first kissed it was as though the linchpin clicked into the wheel of my life and set things in motion. I knew then that we were meant to be together and if I walked away, nothing would be as good, as fulfilling, as strong or as bright as when we were together. Apparently he felt the same. 🙂

Imagine the agony when everything conspired to tear us apart. We were betrayed or abandoned by friends, harmed and were harmed by loved ones and persecuted without trial by all. Not only did people fail to understand how we could love each other coming from different racial, cultural, religous and socio-economic backgrounds, they also did not approve. Their disapproval was vehement, vocal, visual, physical and violently omnipresent. When we were forcibly separated, the pain I felt was so intense, it propelled me into a state of catatonic existence. Every day I didn’t spend with him was one that belonged to a blurry period in my life underlined by pain and longing. To this day, I can barely remember what I did during those two years. And honestly, I thank my psyche for allowing me the bliss of traumatic amnesia.

blog 15th anniversary

But all’s well that end’s well. Back then, I couldn’t understand why we had to go through what we had to. Was it the universe demanding balance? Did we need to go through such pain to be able to experience this intense love? Was it the time and a lack of understanding underlined by the recent hatred or ignorance created during apartheid – i.e. was what we went through post-apartheid ‘teething problems’? It no longer matters. Thankfully, we never took our gloves off. We fought hard and cleverly and we won. Since then, many bridges were mended and we’re still together 15 years later.

On our wedding day, I walked down the aisle to “Still The One” by Shania Twain. I thought the words were valid then. They’re more valid now:

Looks like we made it

Look how far we’ve come, my baby

I’m glad we didn’t listen, look at what we would be missing

They said, I bet, we’d never make it but just look at how far we’ve come, still together, still holding on…

You’re still the one I want.

And just as I was sure as a little girl that I would meet my true love one day, back then I was sure that whatever we had thrown at us, we would make it. I never had a single doubt that we’d survive. He didn’t either. For us, love was, is and always will be – Enough.

Happy 15th wedding anniversary, honey.  As the inscription on the inside of your wedding band says… Love Eternally, Aneesa

 

I Would Not Be Married To The Love of My Life If Not For Madiba! #RIPNelsonMandela

If it wasn’t for Nelson Mandela, I would not have written a book, I would not be married to my gorgeous husband and I would not have the privilege to call two beautiful girls my daughters. No, this isn’t me being melodramatic. I’ll tell you why.

Here’s what my life was like during Apartheid…

I was born Colored – a term given to those born of a mixed cultural and racial heritage in South Africa. I lived in a poor Colored community where curb appeal was non-existent and safety was something parents gave their kids by being overprotective. Even today, I cannot ride a bicycle because it was not safe to do that in the area I spent my childhood. I felt the impact of Apartheid within my own family unit too. My eldest brother and my mother both have fair skin and look Caucasian. I recall times when my father, my brother and I  (who were darker-skinned) were told that we could not accompany my mother and eldest brother into a cinema or a particular beach because ‘we did not look white’. I remember a poor school, poorer friends and riots on my doorstep with armed tanks stationed throughout the suburb. I remember my father and brothers making petrol bombs in our backyard to be ready to protect us against the rioting crowds trying to steal our livelihood, break into our home and harm us. Back then I was frightened. Today I know that those crowds were spurred on by poverty and the distress created by extreme oppression.

Then came change…

I remember watching the television with my family crowding the living room, hope permeating the air as Nelson Mandela took his first steps of freedom. And, I recall the many debates that commenced thereafter, including the infamous one between Mandela and De Klerk. I remember crossing the road to a friend’s house one day and waving excitedly as Mandela passed through the street, the sleek, black car a contrast to the bleak street. I remember the day he took his vows to become president.

Mandela and flag

After that, my life changed irrevocably. Because of Nelson Mandela and Freedom Fighters like him (including my own uncles), these moments in my life have occurred:

– My parents were able to buy a beautiful home in an area previously dedicated to ‘whites only’. I went from stone-littered curbs and arid playgrounds with broken playground equipment to living in an area with beautiful parks.

– I had the opportunity to finish Senior High at a school that non-whites could not go to during Apartheid. I then began receiving a good education. In South Africa the color of your skin dictated the standard of education you received. If you were white you received the best, Indians and Coloreds received a poor education and black South Africans received a sorry excuse for an education. It was at this school that I now had the challenge and opportunity of ‘catching up’ to my peers and where I had the wonderful opportunity to be introduced to English as it should be read and learnt.

– A new world awaited me. I could explore malls, beaches, cinemas, theaters and many other places because Apartheid was abolished. Admittedly, some of them were disappointing. When I was very young, my friends and I used to fantasize about ‘King’s Beach’ and what it was like for the ‘white people’ who went there. When my bare toes finally buried themselves in the white sands of that beach, I found that there were no butlers on call. Ha ha. 🙂

– Two years after Apartheid was abolished, I had the opportunity to attend a university that was previously meant for ‘whites only’ and went on to enter the Masters in Psychology program. Here I also majored in English and was introduced to more wonderful literary worlds. More importantly, a whole new world of diverse thought opened up to me. This was my true foundation years.

– My hope for romance turned to belief when I met my very own ‘Prince Charming’, the man I was to marry at university. He was white and the reality is that if it wasn’t for people like Nelson Mandela, our relationship and even our marriage would not have been legally possible in South Africa. Bi-racial marriages and relationships were seen as ungodly by the Apartheid regime and punishable by imprisonment. Thank goodness we met and fell in love during the early democratic years of South Africa. Oh, it was tough, though. There were many people – including our friends and family – who turned against us and put up many obstacles in place in order to prevent us from being together. But, in time, and through further efforts to re-conciliate our nation as a result of clever social re-engineering by the SA leadership, people gradually came to see things such as our relationship as less of a novelty or abomination and more as an actuality. Being shunned turned into being embraced.

– If I had not been able to marry my husband, we would not have had the two beautiful daughters we’ve been blessed with. That is what I am most grateful for. I’m sure that I do not need to elaborate on this.

Since then, there have been many other opportunities afforded to me through the efforts of great Freedom Fighters. Many of these are things that you (and now I) take for granted – such as standing in a queue with everyone else, going to any public place you wish to, having the same rights as everyone around you and having those around you be of every color in the rainbow. Gotta love the ‘Rainbow Nation’. All of these moments led up to me sitting in my dining room to write my first novel. Does it still sound like a line? Yes? Well think of it this way… if sanctions against South Africa still existed, I perhaps would not have had internet, I would not have read a Nora Roberts or HP Mallory book and have been inspired, I would not have had the level of education I’ve had, I would not have had the corporate job I had that led me to meeting the woman who convinced me to buy a kindle, I would not have known of indie publishing, I would not…. *you get the picture*

Do you see it now? If not for Madiba, I would not be the woman, wife, mom and writer I am today.

And even in death, he keeps giving and setting an example… Today I was reminded of how forgiving he is when the news channels rehashed the fact that he became friends with his jailers upon his release. I just had an interaction on Facebook where a person commented that Nelson Mandela was a terrorist that killed innocent people and that racism is wrong except when directed at Muslims. She even went as far as to call me a murderer along with Madiba! Now, being a South African who understands the value of freedom (because we fought recently for every bit of it), my heart rate immediately increased and I became incensed. I then deleted the retort I was about to post and gave, what I hope is, a very mature response. I did not think that Nelson Mandela would have commented in an aggressive manner. As he was so forgiving, so could I, on a much, much smaller scale, be forgiving of ignorance too. I’m darned if I don’t vow, as of today, to ensure that I live peaceably, with empathy and dignity. Furthermore, my husband and I discussed how the little things that bug us about our new country of residence are inconsequential and how, with the courage that we learnt as South Africans, we will make the best of this and we will ensure that the journey Madiba mapped for us, is taken boldly and humanely.

Viva Madiba! Rest In Peace Tata!

A Free Book to Celebrate My 13th Wedding Anniversary!

At this time, 13 years ago, I’d been married for an hour. Fast-forward to today and I still find myself starting to watch the clock in the afternoon for when my husband will be home, I still can’t fall asleep without his arms wrapped around me and I still have the best fun with him. Oh, I’ve found true love… the kind that dances with your heart, strengthens your spirit and lightens any burden you may come across. I was and am irrevocably in love with my husband.

But, it wasn’t all sunshine and honeydew… oh, we had quite a few obstacles from external sources that we had to overcome. But, that’s my own love story and perhaps I’ll share it in future, perhaps not.

What I will share with you today is the contemporary romance novel, Home for Love. It was an Amazon US and UK paid and free top 100 bestseller for contemporary romance. I’m making it free for today and tomorrow because I can’t wave a wand of red roses and color the world with romance today… a free book is my alternative. I’m also giving away a $5 Amazon Gift Card for those who share the link and post it in comments on my Facebook Page, Aneesa Price – Sugary, Spicy Reads (https://www.facebook.com/AneesaPriceSugarandSpice). Go and have a look, please share and enter the share contest. I’ll randomly chose a winner on the 22nd November. 

Home for Love

Home for Love

Home for Love Amazon links: 

http://www.amazon.com/Home-Love-Adult-Contemporary-Romance-ebook/dp/B00BPWNA5E

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Home-Love-Adult-Contemporary-Romance-ebook/dp/B00BPWNA5E

Home for Love blurb: 

Seven years ago sexy Bree fled Devil’s Peak, Alaska, disillusioned with her high school romance and with a baby in her belly. Now, she’s back and seeing devilishly handsome Todd again challenges her carefully constructed plans for amicable co-parenting.
Todd’s delight at Bree’s return swiftly turns to disgust when he discovers her secret and he vows to keep her at arm’s length. Upon discovering the context behind her secreting their child, he decides to give their daughter the love and stable family home he never knew. Despite her attraction to Todd, Bree has no interest in rekindling their relationship and is focused on settling into the town.
But the town and its match-making busy-bodies are not willing to allow the lovers to remain apart and test their resolve in a series of planned misadventures.
Bree is home for good but will she be home for love?

 

I’m off now to go and spend time with hubby. The fates have blessed us with an unexpected public vacation day here in Kuwait. So, he and the kids are at home. The romantic in me is taking that as a sign to get off my laptop and go snuggle while the desert rain falls softly again the window and he and I feel safe and comfy, snuggled up in a mood possible only in gloomy weather. Ha.

Yours in Romance and Reading,

Aneesa xxx