I was sitting in a sexual harassment refresher about 5 years ago. My job at the time made it mandatory that everyone within the company took the training once a year.
It was the very first time I heard the phrase “it is not your intent, it’s your impact”.
Now, believe me, the first time I heard that I was like “that is selfish!”
If I’m not trying to hurt you and you get hurt, that’s your problem. Not mine!
But as he explained it further, I began to understand the responsibility placed on us as people and as people who have others we love.
Now the initial discussion was about sexual harassment right?
An example of how intent vs. impact works was imagine showing up to work tomorrow and you see Sally on your way in.
You tell Sally “I love your dress, it really brings out your figure”
In your mind, you have done something nice. Most of us would think like that. Start Sally’s day with a compliment right? Make her feel good a bit?
What happens when you find out that Sally took offense to that. Imagine for a second that Sally was having a crappy morning and her mother had criticized her weight earlier that day.
Your comment reawakening the crappy feeling she already had – impact.
Intent vs. Impact.
Since that day, I have always tried to apply the same logic to my friendships and romantic relationships.
I understand that it is human to offend but more importantly, how I approach something is the only thing I can account for.
How someone receives it, is their choice as well.
They are entitled to that.
And even when it annoys you and you feel like they are taking a piss, you have to still look at things from their end.
It is also important to be aware that while someone may offend you and that was their impact, it may not have been their intention.
The best way to look at this is how you want to be loved.
Anyone that knows me well enough knows that I hate talking about things I cannot change.
Things that aggravate me are words with no action and feeling powerless in a situation.
I used to date someone in a long distance situation that would say, “you never come to see me or even talk about it”
In their mind, my lack of dialogue around it has impacted them into thinking, I don’t care.
But that is not my intention. For one, like I explained earlier, I hate empty talk. I am a doer, if I want something, I wait till I can execute till I bring it up.
Until we had a conversation about it, she always thought I just didn’t care.
5years ago, I would have said she was being selfish for not understanding my intent but you have to communicate it.
It is also your responsibility when you love someone to afford them the benefit of the doubt.
One of my partners used to be horrible with the public display of affection and love.
I host a radio show and I expect that a woman that loves me, would listen and support weekly.
But she was one of those people in the background.
Listening but never using the hashtag or commenting. It bothered me for a while. But I had to understand that her intent was not to seem uninterested or absent.
Did it annoy me? Hell yes, but I had to see the big picture.
This also brings me to the concept of how you love people.
You have to understand your past successes in relationships count for nothing if the current one you are in is failing.
Nobody wants to be in a failed relationship or friendship but it takes work to make all of that tick.
I am pretty confident that nobody likes the idea of repeatedly saying, “that’s not what I meant”
That is part of where the work comes in. You have to be able to align your intentions and your impact.
That is one of the ways relationships/friendships are successful.
I have a friend that gets mad at me all the time for my response times to text messages. They assume that I must not care or that I am just absent.
Totally untrue but I understand where there are coming from.
I get busy, absent-minded, distracted or forgetful but at no point does any of that translate to not caring.
But it happens and people feel things.
If you love them, tell them.
Fight for them.
Support them.
Be available and
Try to be sensitive to their needs. Their concerns, frustrations.
Also, try to give them the benefit of the doubt. Do not start every thought with assuming that they are doing everything to hurt you.
If there is anything you need to remember today from this, make sure your intent and impact are as closely aligned as possible.
You won’t always get it right but you can try.
Now, if you don’t get me a gift for my birthday, the impact is that I will be very upset and NO, I don’t care about your bloody intent. 😂
Okay, just kidding.
Go out there this week and be great. Until next week, it has been WordsOfWednesday from the desk of The Wordsmith.
Bless.
Follow @adewus4real and please LEAVE ME A COMMENT BELOW! Thanks!
#WordsOfWednesday #WTHM #TheRantsShow
Black.Gay.Waiting Part 3 out on Saturday!
Please watch this space!
Thank you for reading and commenting. You are highly appreciated.
Head first in the deep,
I may sink or swim
Learning how to breathe
I end as I begin
Oh, I don’t know if I can do it, do it
I’m not sure I can do it, do it
I know I wanna do it, do it
Fuck it, I’m gonna do it, do it
Cos I gotta feeling… (Deep inside of me)
Telling me to do it… (Deep inside of me)
–Sink or Swim by Jacob Banks
The very first time I heard the song, it was at the Jacob Banks concert. I had been slacking as a fan because I had never properly listened to the song even though I had the EP on my computer.
So the night before the show, I was watching videos to a lot of the songs I had listened to and I played it.
Very easily liked it but it still did not register.
When I got to the concert and he played the song, he had changed it.
He changed the pitch, the melody was tweaked a bit and everyone was singing along except me.
And it was in that moment I realized how much I liked the song.
So I went back home and just binged on it and that was how I fell in love.
I knew standing in that crowd and mouthing off that this song was going to define my 2018; Sink or Swim.
Many of you reading this, started this writing/blogging journey with me.
In many cases, you have watched my evolution as a writer, creative, host, and most importantly, as a man.
I think with that evolution, comes a sense of ownership.
People think I should believe in myself more and it should be reflective. They are right.
I think I am a pretty decent everything listed about. But most times, people around me see more.
More than I can and more than I am sometimes willing to admit.
I think I am a pretty good writer but not great. Same goes for hosting my show or being a big brother or anything.
I mostly operate in the above average range.
That is about to change.
2018 is my sink or swim year in many senses.
One, it is the year I venture out of my comfort zones and tell the stories that I keep locked away.
It is the year where I approach discussions and creative platforms that scare, challenge and motivate me.
It is the year I tell myself “do it” and damn the consequences.
It is the year I take the love I deserve and settle for nothing less. I have written many times about the fear of being alone. Like even in the times I was single, I was never alone.
And out of the fear of not having to walk alone, I have settled for less than I deserve. No more.
It is the year of creative exploration on a more spiritual level (Check out my current series Black.Gay.Waiting here). When I wrote Black Gay Waiting, people freaked out. Some thought I was gay, some called me gay.
But it was mostly because the story was so believable but also because I wrote it, expect more.
2018 is also the year that I allow myself to be more vulnerable spiritually. I have always hidden behind the bare minimum. “Oh just enough that God knows I love Him and I do His work” but never truly pushing the envelope like I should. Change.
WhatTheHeckMan, TheRantsShow and I have all grown over the years but in a way, I feel like we stagnated last year.
The numbers say we didn’t but maybe because I am the force behind all of those things, and I’m never content with what I have, I want to push for more and more is what we are getting.
In 2018, everything should feel like a jump off a cliff.
You obviously have a parachute in your bag but no plans to use it. You’ll jump and soar.
Glide into your victories and be miles above your enemies.
Too often, we are okay with okay. “Okay, I think if I hit this level, I’ll be okay” “What I have done so far, is okay jare”
All very fair but there is more. There will be more. And it is okay to chase it.
2018, do not be okay with being above average because if the entire world is above average, then technically, you’re average.
I remember when I moved out of my parent’s house, what is now 9 years ago.
The plan was to split my rent.
I had gotten a part-time job and for the first 6 months, my parents were going to support me.
8 days after moving out, I lost the job.
My girlfriend at the time, bless her heart was the rock that held me through as I waited four months for another job.
It would be as a lifeguard.
I didn’t even know I could swim, until one day there was an emergency in the pool and I had to dive in and save a kid.
That is how I am approaching this year.
I don’t know if I can do it,
I am not sure if I can do it,
But I know I want to do it,
So fuck it, I AM GOING TO DO IT!
My name is Sanmi Adewunmi. You may know me as Adewus4real or The Wordsmith.
I create and I do a damn good job of it.
In 2018, I am pushing myself to the limits and challenging every person that is reading this to do the same.
Here is what will happen.
Not trying to be negative but we will fail at some things – but we will gather learnings to improve new approaches and we will succeed at many things and thrive in our best lives.
None of which won’t happen if you don’t jump in the water.
Write those goals out.
If you are religious, pray about them.
Religious or not, work hard at them.
Success will come.
It has to.
Say it with me, “In 2018 and beyond, I will thrive in everything I set my heart, my mind, my body and my soul to”
In 2018, we swim!
So get in the water.
And if you think you are going to drown, don’t worry, I gotchu.
After all, I was a lifeguard for all of 5 months!
Let’s go out there and take 2018; spiritually, financially, romantically, creatively, professionally, physically and any other kind of “cally”
This is the first WordsOfWednesday for 2018 and I promise to be more consistent with these this year.
Please retweet, comment, share and let me know if you plan to Sink or Swim this year.
Come back next Wednesday for another piece and make sure you catch the next episode of @TheRantShow before that. Also find the track that inspired my approach to 2018 below~
I appreciate you all.
2018 is ours. Part 3 of Black.Gay.Waiting will be out this Saturday! I promise! ❤️
LEAVE ME A COMMENT BELOW! START THE NEW YEAR RIGHTTTTTTT! lol
Bless & Happy New Year!
#WordsOfWednesday #WTHM #TheRantsShow
Black.Gay.Waiting Part 3 out on Saturday!
Please watch this space!
It was 6am in the morning, I was just standing out in the middle of the quadrangle and looking embarrassed.
Wet.
I was trying to understand how I missed it.
My clothes were on the window pane to my left. I had placed them there before I began to bathe myself as I prepared for school.
Why would someone do this to me?
This was only my first morning in boarding school.
I wanted the safety of my home.
My temperature controlled shower, consistent electricity, hot breakfast and just emotional safety!
Here I was thrust into the “wild”.
Anyone that experienced it will tell you straight up that it builds character and forces you to face a lot of the fears you will meet in life.
One thing it also does though, it awakens fears you never thought you had.
That cold morning, I stood there and wished I could teleport.
I swear I had seen my clothes there. Just a minute before.
Someone obviously moved it because they wanted to teach me a lesson.
I eventually made my way into my dorm and tried to forget that had happened, but it hurt.
That day, I prayed that I would never be in that kind of situation again.
Well, I have been in that situation 3 times since then but this had to be the most embarrassing.
My father, a renowned minister, was standing less than 10 feet away from me while I clutched my undergarments to protect my exposed genitalia.
Fuck!
How did this happen?
How did he know I was here?
“Pastor, I am sorry”
Micah said in whimpering tone.
“Shut up!”
My father barked back at him.
He looked up to me and said
“You are still at this?! After everything your mother and I have done for you?”
My head dropped.
He continued on
“You are a disgrace. A complete disgrace.”
It was at that point I dropped my clothes on the bed and I started putting my boxers on.
I was so tired of being called all sorts for being who I was.
My father turned to Micah and said
“…and you, I cannot believe you would do this. I never want to see you again.
Or anywhere near the church.”
He stormed out without saying another word.
I quickly put the rest of my clothes on and followed. Micah tried to grab me, I stopped and he said
“I’m sorry. This is my fault”
I smiled and gave him a kiss on his lips and then said
“Don’t be. You did nothing wrong”
as I wiped his lip.
He dropped his head and I patted his cheek as I walked out.
Walking into the parking space, my father said to me
“Give him the keys”
referring to his driver who was now standing outside to my left, right next to my car.
I wanted to ask why but I knew why.
He wanted us to ride together so he could berate me further.
I didn’t question it, I tossed my keys to Dimeji, our longtime family driver and the man that taught me how to drive.
He nodded, almost in apology and then entered my car.
I walked over to my father’s car and entered.
To my surprise, he did not say a single word during the entire ride home.
When we got home, I went straight to my room and stayed there most of the day.
I shuffled between scrolling through Twitter and watching season 4 of the Blacklist. I was basically trying everything to get my mind off what had just happened.
My mom was out of the country and returning later that night. One thing was for sure, my father was always going to tell my mother what happened.
They tell each other everything.
So I knew it was only a matter of time before she was brought up to speed.
And she was going to be home in a few hours.
…..
I was awakened by the buzzing of my phone.
I actually didn’t realize I had fallen asleep. As I answered, I tried to keep my eyes closed.
The voice on the other end was familiar. It said
“Are you ready?”
I wasn’t understanding. So I asked
“Ready for what?”
She said
“Drinks. I texted you and told you I was coming”
I hadn’t seen the text. Probably because I was sleeping. So I asked
“Where are you?”
“10mins away”
she replied
I sighed and said
“Aight, I’ll be out in a bit”
I quickly got up, brushed my teeth and then washed my face before heading out the room.
As I approached the living room, I could hear the sounds of the television – MSNBC.
That was one of my dad’s favourite channels, so I quickly put it together that he was in there.
I knew I had to walk past him and I was going to do it as quickly as possible.
As I entered the living room and was almost out of the main door, he said
“Ni bo lo da?” – translating to “where to?”
I stopped in my tracks, turned to my right where he sat and said
“I am grabbing dinner with a friend”
He squeezed his face and dismissed me with his mouth closed.
And out I was.
In the car waiting for me was Sandra.
One of my true best friends and one of the only few that knew my situation.
As I sat in the car, she turned and gave me a hug.
She followed it up by saying
“How are you?”
In that moment, I wanted to break down and cry but I mustered the strength and said
“I think I’m okay hun.
Like… I don’t know but I’d like to think that I’m good”
We chatted about her week and her boyfriend whom she felt was dragging his feet and not proposing.
I told her to be calm, after all, only 20 months of dating was never going to be enough time to know someone.
Sandra was extra like that.
As they cleared our table, Sandra asked for the check and brought out her wallet.
I looked at her with confusion and said
“What are you doing?”
She scoffed, smiled and said
“Paying. Or what does it look like?”
I was about to reply when she said
“Abeg hold that your machismo nonsense. I got this one.”
I just swallowed my words. She then asked
“So what are you going to do?”
I looked up to her and locked my fingers into each other as I said
“I honestly don’t know but I sure as hell know that I am tired.
I mean for crying out loud, I am almost 30!
I have never had sex and I have done everything my family has asked of me…but I cannot change who I am!
This is who I fucking am. Sandra it is soo tiring.
Is it my fault that my parents are pastors? Or that I like men and not women?
Like let’s get this straight, I am almost fucking thirty! Like is it because I moved back home or something?
Like I am just tired”
She nodded as I could see the sadness all over her face.
She said
“I am sorry hun. I really am.
Let me just say this though. Just continue to be yourself. We appreciate you for who you are.
I know for sure that I do, and I love you for being you”
“Thanks love.”
I replied.
Dinner and those drinks certainly helped me feel a bit better. As I rode home in the back of the Uber, I couldn’t help but think about how much I had wanted to break free.
For many years, nobody knew of my status and I truly didn’t need people to know.
I was always sure that I never wanted people to treat me any kind of way because of my sexuality. I was going to be great at anything I did without being treated differently.
But how come my home never felt like I was welcome?
My father would preach love and togetherness, being non-judgmental, forgiveness and unconditional love.
Yet, since I became an adult, those things have been far away from me.
The Uber pulled up to the gate and said
“Okay sir, we are here”
I looked up and noticed we were in front of my house.
I grew up in that house and I had come to hate that house. Every time I brought up the idea of me moving out, my mother scoffed at it and tried to make me feel bad for not wanting to live with them.
I heaved a deep sigh as I knocked on the gate for the gateman to open.
The house was quiet when I got in but the television was on.
I turned it off and went to my room. As I began taking my clothes off, I heard the gate open.
My parents were back.
I turned the lights off and got into my bed.
I heard them make their way into the house. I could hear my mom’s voice and even though I hadn’t see her in a few weeks, I decided against coming out of my room.
I heard them talking in their bedroom which was a floor beneath mine but when the house was quiet enough, it felt like they were next door.
I heard the water running. I figured my mother was taking a shower.
Sleep came calling and soon enough I was struggling to keep my eyes open.
I hadn’t been asleep for too long when I heard my door open quickly.
By the fruity scent left behind, I figured it was mom that came to check if I was awake.
I was, but I was not ready for the things that followed.
…..
Sunday mornings were always sluggish for me.
I think as I got older, I hated the pressure that came from being a PK (Pastor’s kid). So I became more distant from the church in many ways.
I would still go but I was always late or very detached. Only at the church, my parents pastored.
This morning, I woke up and I just lay there for a while.
I kept playing that day and my dad walking in.
As I replayed the day, I kept blaming myself.
Maybe I shouldn’t have slept over or maybe I should have rushed and put my clothes on as I heard my dad barge in.
I kept going through a bunch of maybes but I eventually settled on the fact that, it already happened and there was nothing I could do to change it.
When I made it to church, praise and worship was just about to start.
For the next twenty-five minutes, we sang and danced to the glory of God.
Then came the Liberty prayer and then the announcements.
The sermon was about to start when I noticed my father hand the microphone to my mother.
He wasn’t taking the sermon today.
I figured that it was because of everything that had happened over the weekend, he wanted to absolve himself of any ill feelings while ministering.
My mother got up there like she had many times before and began preaching.
She was firm, she was direct and told it as it was.
The title of her sermon was “Finding Your Way Home”
A lot of what she said convicted me, I felt like I had drifted from God.
I used to be active in the church and closer in my journey against sexual immorality.
I had promised that I would never have sex until I was married.
And even though I had dated women and almost got married to one, I was determined to wait until after I was married to have sex.
Now some of you may say, but what is the point in going on God, when you are already gay.
I wish I knew but it felt like the right thing to do within me.
And that was what I was going to do.
Midway through her sermon, I remember my mother saying
“Some of us have been so blessed by God that we stray. We let the blessings get to us and then we forget all that he has done.
We start to simplify his goodness and take it for granted.
Brethren, I encourage you to never let the elevation you have in life, make you think you no longer need God…”
I remember thinking
“hmmm, maybe I had turned on God and forgotten how much he had blessed me…”
I was in that thought when I heard my name over the loudspeakers.
I looked up and my mother was motioning me towards the altar.
I looked around to be sure.
Slowly, I got up and walked to the front of the church.
She stepped down from the altar and came up to me.
Placing her hand on my shoulder she said into the microphone
“An example of forgetting home and God’s blessings is my son here.
God has given him so much that he has forgotten God to the point that he is now engaging in sinful acts that made God burn down Sodom and Gomorrah.
My son has been participating in a homosexual relationship”
The entire church gasped.
I swear I thought I had died for a second.
It was like I was hearing a cassette tape played backwards. Everything in my head was scrambled. I was stunned.
My eyes quickly welled up and I couldn’t understand.
“How could she do this to me?”
I thought to myself.
I turned and people in the congregation had their hands covering their mouths in shock.
Something in me wanted to run but I couldn’t.
My mom continued and said
“It is important that when people are trying to lead you back to Christ, you take note because you can be lost in the world”
As she finished, someone got up in the second row and said
“Abeg what is all this nonsense?
Is this what we came to church for?”
My mother, microphone to her lips, said
“Excuse you?”
And the man continued and said
“Yes, is this why we came to church. So you can air your personal drama?
We come for the word, not this theatrics.
Besides, this is not news at least not to your family. Your husband always knew and he has known for a while now, so why are you here lying to us.
Please let us hear word”
My mother, surprised, turned around and looked at my father.
He rose up with his head hung low.
He took two steps forward and then he slumped. My father died that morning.
What happens next?
Come back for Part 3 next Saturday!
Please leave a comment below. Thanks for reading!
Please leave me a comment or tweet at me here@adewus4real! Feedback is EVERYTHING~Thanks!
The End.
Part Three next Saturday and ready to drop! @adewus4real
Thank you for reading and commenting. You are highly appreciated.
Thanks for the love and
