Does good sex really matter?

Since when did sex become a chore, something you have to pencil into your diary. Is this the case for other new parents, or couples in long term relationships? Maybe, someone who’s been affected by trauma? Could it be that I’m doing it wrong or that my heart’s not in it anymore? All I know is, I want my sultry sex life back.

One of the hardest parts about relationships is trying to keep the romance alive. The reality is, couples could easily live past each other. Some days I don’t remember kissing Nick goodnight or talking to him at all. I don’t have time for lengthy convos especially when I’m tired and just want to chill on my phone. Selfish, but true!

How did I fix this? How did I tackle it head on? Speaking about sex openly is seen as taboo BUT why? These are real problems that real couples face. People have sex, don’t raise your brow just because you too uptight to acknowledge it. My dilemma was the quality and quantity, because…..

Good sex matters.

I want to bond, connect. For me it’s more emotional than physical. I want to marry his soul time and time again. Make a memory. Share a moment.

Date nights, yes hunny. Staying in or going out, for one night I’m getting dressed and pretending we don’t join our income. I’m choosing the most expensive dish on the menu or flirting while his cooking in his underpants. I’ll wait for that car door to open and smile when his hand gently touches my tush. I’ll have two glasses of wine because I ain’t driving.

Also, I’m not breastfeeding, tonight these full juicy boobs are all his.

Tomorrow I’ll go back to nagging about the dirty socks on the bedroom floor. Yip. Women nag and life with me ain’t rosy. There are days when he works on my last nerve and I just smaak to be single again. Then I remember what I’ve had to endure before I met him. This is the man I choose to love and on that rare occasion we don’t just make love, he french kisses my soul.

Goodbye Moaner

Have you ever fallen out of love, distance yourself from a dear friend or just blatantly cut someone out of your life? Whether it happens consciously or subconsciously, it happens regardless. You make the decision and run with it. You discard the years of memories, filter out the good times and say "Voetsak/Good riddance".

Oh and I'm not referring to those long last buds that you forget to message or the ones you catch up with once a year. Those are the friends you don't ever seem to find the time for……because LIFE.

How do you define a valuable friendship? I see friendship as being a constant in someone's life, the same way I feel about my sister. Showing up for the big stuff and being there when shit hits the fan. Giving sound advice during life changing events and being genuinely happy for someone else's success.

Once a friend blew my hair before we left my house. Not because I asked her but because it was 5 days post c-section and she wouldn't let me leave the house looking like Lynette (from desperate housewives).

Another special memory I have is when my friends took me to church for Father's Day. I didn't believe in God but my Dad passed away 3 weeks before and I needed something/someone/hope. So I got my 9 month pregnant ass up and wobbled off to church. We cried, we sang, we danced and they prayed. Sitting between two of my closest friends made me feel them safe. They had my back. They got me.

Whether it was a thoughtful out of the blue poncho's, showing up at my parents wake, late night texting or flights from India to Cape Town. My friends were there.

So, when do say goodbye to that "bestfriend" that didn't show up. That friend you grew up with but didn't take the time to grow with you. That friend you knowingly disappointed but she couldn't understand why. The friend that broke your heart. The friend that turned out not to be a friend at all.

You eventually don't say goodbye, you say good luck.

Make that belly clap!

What's a belly clap? It's the sound your stomach makes when the fat lifts up and down, in a jerking motion. It's like a flap, a permanent fannypack just above your lady bits.

17 kilograms overweight, yes. I don't say this proudly. I'm embarrassed to say it out loud. Yep, I'm on the top end of the overweight category and a donut away from obese. I don't fully agree with the way BMI is calculated but after taking a free health assessment at work I can appreciate that it gives you a rough idea on where you are health wise.

Is happiness more important than being healthy? Or are the two linked? When you're fit and in shape, do you wake up feeling more confident and comfortable in your own skin? I wouldn't know the answer because I'm fat AF but I'm guessing that it would.

I see my friends living out the best versions of themselves. Staying active, making conscious decisions on what they putting in their bodies and I feel left out. They make it seem so easy… I know it's not. I mean I was there for the "can't I just eat this whole fucking chocolate slab" whatsapp message. BUT, why did I give up, why am I settling for this? Surely I can't be happy with being a size 16 for the rest of my life.

Are we ever satisfied with our bodies and how we see ourselves? Of course the media and people we follow on IG affect the way we see and feel about ourselves. Enough is never enough. If you want that body…go get it or go buy it. It takes guts and the will power of a wilderbeest to make that ultimate change, which I don't have. All I have is a cup of laziness and a bag full of depression.

We need to start loving ourselves, any shape and form. Confidence is more than a size 2 lingerie model. I found it harder to love myself now that I'm heavier. I still struggle to find the "beautiful" between my cellulite and back rolls. However this is slowly changing, thank you Ashley Graham! I'm starting to embrace my inner ogre, after all she needs some love too. Only until recently I started feeling sexy, THANK YOU Ashley Graham!

Ashley doesn't have a gap between her thighs or arms the size of toothpicks. She's thick and juicy, packing DD's and dammit she makes me feel good about myself.

We all need a bit of Ashley in our IG feeds.

Right now I'm still eating cake but I plan to choose carrot sticks and cottage cheese by November (this date keeps changing).

Be happy. Be beautiful. Be you.

Laxed Mumhood

I've always been an aunt. It feels like my eldest nephew, who's turning 13 has been around forever. Aunty Te. He couldn't pronounce the "r" in Terri and called me Te, now my subsequent nephews and nieces all call me Aunty Te. I am that aunt that tells you to "box the bully" and demands constant cuddles. The aunt that smacks butts when necessary and wipes away heartsore tears with soft kisses. I never wondered what type of mother I'd be. I assumed it would be a natural progression from aunt to mom. I couldn't imagine loving another little human more than I loved my monsters. Wow, I had another thing coming.

Mummy, that is what I called my mom and what I encourage my 13month old daughter to call me. I often wonder what she thinks about when she rubs her head before bedtime. Does she think about boobies, her favourite toys or her mummy's overpowering love.

I see myself as quite a relaxed new mom. I realized new moms are way to hard on themselves. Putting unnecessary and unexpected pressure on themselves. Living their lives on tight feeding/napping and activity schedules. Obviously this needs to done for the first couple of weeks post birth, but after 4 months there's no need for moms to be on -20% battery life. I suppose it's a case of different strokes for different folks.

Rolling with the punches is the best phrase I would use to describe my style of parenting. There's been times where I've been completely OCD and there's been moments when I couldn't care less. Oh, she's got Hand Foot and Mouth. Paracetamol. Whatever . Balance.

I try not to stick to strict routines, or create schedules around the baby. The baby has to adapt to my new family life. I refuse to stay home or miss coffee catch ups because she needs to feed or nap in 2 hours time. Mind you a pushchair's cosy enough for an afternoon snooze and comfortable enough for a lunch time nibble.

Too much huffing and puffing, fussing and las'ing over a tiny little human that honestly couldn't be bothered.

Again, there's no right way to raise a child. It's totally up to you and doing what works for you is key. Just getting through the day without dropping the baby due to extreme exhaustion is deserving of a pat on the back.

Not all of us are as fortunate as Beyoncé who has a dream team of nannies and carers on call. Us normal folk have to rely solely on our support base. The family and friends who supported us during our pregnancy and the ones stupid enough to stay behind post baby.

Moms and Dads are not super human. God, how did our parents do it? What do you do when you're far away from your support system and all you have is your partner? It's tough parenting by yourself and not having family/friends around to update on your baby's progress or watch your baby grow up. Alone in solitude on just whatsapp calls and FaceTime. We living in a brilliant time where you can be in a totally different continent but still feel emotionally connected to your love-ones.
That's what I'm grateful for, damn it could have been worse.

When you lose people you hold close to your heart you realize how precious new life actually is. New life has brought me so much hope! New life can be found anywhere, not just in the face of a newborn. Open your heart and mind to find it.


Dear Mr Ex

I loved you, I did. Spent a couple of years obsessed with you, well plus another 3 of friendship. 9 years later you can't say hello. You despise me, wiped your memory clean of the laughter, tears and love. Damn, I must have F'd you over real bad. I must have torn your heart to pieces and left you for dead. Did I, did I totally ruin your life, waste your fruitful adolescent years. Turn you into a cold, ruthless man?

Seems like I have. I am the monster who chose security, guaranteed emotional stability (btw nothing is ever guaranteed) and decided to live out my version of true happiness.

My late father once told me, "you don't fall in love, you choose who to love. The falling happens after". He often used to mock the woman in the Bold and the Beautiful. Poking fun at the scornful woman who fell aimlessly in love with the married/unattainable man (Ridge, Brooke and Taylor saga). When I used to watch the TV show he'd try to complete their sentences. Turns out he already knew the lines being a Casanova himself.

So, you want to call me a gold digger Mr Ex? I take no offense, no woman should ever be ashamed of wanting or loving man with more…. but this isn't the case and this ain't no Ye song. In 18 years, I still plan to be with the same man. I simply chose something that came easier with less hassle, someone who I could learn from and grow with. Build a solid life together, someone who had aspirations and enjoyed setting goals and more importantly who prioritized reaching them.

You see, my ex was kind and lovely but lazy AF! I become a mother figure, always nagging him to get his life together, finish his assignments and study for upcoming exams. How was I expected to live a long prosperous life with this clown? I mean, I was also a student but there was no way I was going to let his failures rub off on me. Hell no. That's beside the family hating my guts and thinking that their sweet yet sluggish son could do better than dating a rubbish like me. You see, to me this family assumed they were a superior "type of coloured" because they were educated and lived in a lush suburb. Pfft. Look at me now.

Okay, yes. I cheated during our relationship. I did. I was promiscuous. I hurt his heart and he kept on forgiving me. I lied and he knowingly believed me. He foolishly and utterly loved me despite the way he acts 5 years post break up. He wasn't an angel either, Oh no! however this isn't about his flaws and what he has done. This post is for my narrow-minded ex and the ex friends who sided with him. To address their raised eyebrows about me marrying a different man. A man who people seem to think is richer and posh because he's white. Friend, let me stop you right there. That isn't the case. In fact, my ex's family is better off than him. My husband comes from yet another struggling working class family, just like I do. Addressing his inherent privilege is for another post.

Scotland April 2017 031

I strongly believe the woman I am today is due to lessons learnt from stupid decisions made in the past. The woman I am today and the woman I will continue to strive to be is due to the role models I placed in my life, the carefully selected friends I chose to keep and the sister I love as a mother. The husband I call partner and the incredible life lessons of my late parents.

Side note, there is no recipe for long-lasting relationship.

The girl you were 10 years ago, is not the woman you are today. Neither will the woman you are today, be the woman you'll be in 10 years time. Keep on growing with your partner, love through all the stages. A seasonal love won't stand the test of time. Constantly grow together. This was the essence of my sister's 2014 speech at my wedding. It's was powerful and true, hopefully it can benefit you too.







Meet Made

Meet Made.

He is a 4-year-old Balinese boy. He lives is Bali, Indonesia with his mum and dad. They rent a room in a village close to Seminyak. Seminyak is arguably Bali's biggest tourist attraction. Seminyak is city 20 mins south of the airport.

Made's parents grew up in a rural farming village in the north of Bali. They moved closer to city for better work opportunities as farming would be their only option in the village.

Mum makes paper, she works a full day for a wage of IDR 10,000/£0.60 a day. This woman happily works for less than a pound a day. I'm positively sure that no matter what currency you convert to, it is still ridiculously low.

Dad is the bread-winner of the household. He works as a night shift security guard at one of the hotels on the strip and earns IDR 2,000,000/£117 a month. Also a day time driver, for one of his friends. He does this as an odd job because his monthly salary just isn't enough to survive. He transports tourist all over beautiful  Bali, this how I met Made's dad.

Putu and Lily

Made's story isn't unusual in Indonesia, you'll find that Bali is filled with Indonesians that relocated for jobs and a better life for their families. Sadly, those families are also struggling to get by and just about bare it as there is no other alternative but to make it work. Despite this the Balinese people are the most friendliest and selfless I've met thus far. They freaking always smiling. It's contagious.

Made couldn't start school next year because his family didn't manage to save up enough for the enrolment fees, IDR 1,900,000/£111. The enrolment fees is expensive for a typical Balinese family. They would need to save up at least a year for it, that's if no other unexpected expenses arise (which is normally the case). Besides the enrolment fees, parents have to pay monthly school fees of IDR 150,000/£9 which is more affordable.

My heart broke, it's still breaking. Coming from South Africa, where poverty is raw, uncut and in your face real, I still wasn't prepared for this. Schooling is a basic human need, well in my mind at least.

Helping to put Made through school taught me an invaluable lesson. Stop being so fucking selfish Terri. Even though I am a POC, I have to check myself and my privilege daily.

One of my South African friends told me a story about this elderly lady she encountered at a grocery store in Germany. This woman was clearly old, frail and having a difficult time at the store. Seen scouring through her trolley deciding what to ditch and what to take. Imagine choosing between bread and milk? Flip!

She immediately offered to pay for this lady's groceries, without thinking twice.

Some Europeans might consider this as an intrusion. They wouldn't dare offer or even involve themselves in other people's matters. "Not my problem" kind of attitude, or maybe they'd find it insulting to impose. Either way the worst thing that could happen is the lady declining and saying "no thanks". In my buddy's case, this elderly Granny smiled slightly in appreciation.

Small acts of kindest goes a long way. Let's try and choose kindness.