On the last episode of “Things Renny Discusses”, I covered the wild aunty that attacked an innocent American woman, because the woman questioned the practice of forcing only women to participate in domestic chores when her fully capable fiancé offered to participate and was commanded by aunty to retreat. Check out the post and most importantly, READ THE COMMENTS. The comments are generally in agreement and there are many people openly discussing the prevalence of misogyny and sexism within our so-called culture. However, where there are wise people willing to admit to the existence of the mistreatment of women, you shall find those people that choose to be blind. Please, why were there so many women excusing aunty’s behavior? And by excusing, I mean they were implying that the mother had a right to be angry because the woman asked the question. Some women in that comment section seem not …
Part of evolving as humans should be examining current practices and asking ourselves “does this still make sense?”. There are many events that occurred in the past that were thankfully stopped because some people had the brave idea to ask that very question. Let’s have a look shall we: You get the drift. At some point in life, we as a society must be willing to evaluate our so-called traditions and “culture” and be ready to update what needs updating. With that said, I am now ready to ask my African brothers and sisters, my Nigerian brethren, my Yoruba cousins to be exact – AT WHAT POINT DO WE ADMIT THAT WE NEED TO START ERADICATING THE OPPRESSIVE AND HEAVILY SEXIST PARTS OF OUR CULTURE? Just look at this: Here you have a clearly unstable, mannerless, rude, man-centered senior citizen bullying and denigrating the supposed love of her son’s life …
There must come a time when certain members of the male community must admit their incessant desire to be with their true loves: Deference. Submission. Ego. Not only should they admit this, they should start wearing t-shirts that reveal their truest desires for all to see. And then when they have their assemblies, they can chant the following mantras: “Know your place” “Men need respect more than they need love”, “As a woman…..” “I am the head” “Defer to me” So you see a woman. You describe her personality as “rich”. It is this “rich” personality that draws you to said woman. In fact, you brag to your friends and family that you love how “boisterous” she is. You love that she is driven. You love that she is a go-getter. In fact, you go as far as “supporting” her endeavors. You commend her on her leadership. You commend her …
The title says it all. On a previous episode of this blog and this YouTube video, I lamented about how I felt like my 2024 was a failure (gently whispers: I am NOT a failure in Jesus Name). I had to come clean to me. Me to me: Renny, you really fell your own hand. Me responding to me: I know, I know, but I will make it up to us *cue dramatic tears* Well, ladies/gentlemen/others in between, I just want to report that my September is not a failure! WOHOOOOOOOOOO!! Oh yes. Your girl has risen like a phoenix from the ashes. Snoozing alarm? Not around here partner Skipping workouts? You girl is attending Barre, even through the pain (check out my painful Barre experience here) Content creation? Call me Shonda Rhimes because the content is churning like Shonda Night on ABC in 2016 (IYKYK!) And my content is …
I am proud to be one of those people that will never come online to be saying I have “haters”. In fact, I even judge people that sing about their enemies and haters all day. You know the ones I am talking about. The ones subbing someone through their Instagram stories. The ones shouting “I move in silence” every day to let us know they are discreet about a “big” reveal that is coming. Those ones. I may laugh at them, but I am not that different. (The main difference is that you will never ever ever catch me shouting about imaginary haters online sha. That one is a special type of madness. Sorry if it applies to you. Change today.) Ehen, what I mean by that statement is that I must admit that I tend to consider the thoughts of both real and imaginary outsiders when I make the …
Brief reflections of a 30-something-year-old who was cruising through the year. In alignment with my RCCG upbringing, I must wish you, dearest reader, a HAPPY NEW MONTH. It has been centuries since I wrote anything substantive here, so it is only polite that I greet you properly. (It is also my Yoruba nature that demands I over-greet you.) Based on the title of the blog, you may be asking yourself these important questions: Relax, my dearies. I just decided to call a spade A SPADE. You see eh, on January 2024 I joined millions of fervent Nigerians in hot and mighty prayer to declare that “2024 is my year of breakthrough”, “2024 is my year of supernatural favor”, “2024 is my year of divine blessings” etc. (Again, shoutout to RCCG for teaching a girl how to demand things from the Lord). Now, with all the powerful casting and declaration, did …
Recapping the details of our three-year relationship always puts me in a trance of utter embarrassment. Even though it was such a toxic practice, I could not pull myself away from reliving the memories and beating myself up. I’d often scold myself and say “But you knew from the first date that the man was not for you, so why did you expect it to turn out differently?” Three months into this our looks-good-on-paper relationship, the man invited me to spend the holiday with his family. When I told Timi, my romantic coach, she exclaimed “you see, this is a sign that he is thinking about you in terms of future plans.” I smiled and nodded shyly, giving her the impression that this was surely the case. What I did not reveal to her was that he unwillingly offered the invitation because I lamented that I had nowhere to spend …
Three years ago, I had completed my graduate education at a prestigious school. That accomplishment further solidified my “I don’t want a man, I only need a career”motto. I briefly dated two men – one while in undergrad and another in grad school – and I quickly concluded that dating was a waste of my time and maybe marriage was more like a fantasy than a possibility. Either I was going to get the man that shined when his attributes were jotted down on paper or I’d get no one at all. No one warned me that the pursuit of the one on paper would leave be emptied, disappointed, and heartbroken. If I ever hear the phrase “he looks good on paper”, I might take out the speaker. Anyway, I sha ended up meeting the-one-who-looks-good-on-paper through my friend, Timi. I wouldn’t ordinarily take advice or recommendation from Timi. You see… …
Self-pity doesn’t completely encapsulate how I used to treat myself – perhaps it’s more appropriate to call it self-disgust. I would close my eyes and remember all my past mistakes and I’d shiver with disgust – at myself. I would get goosebumps thinking about the horrendous treatments I allowed, enabled, and excused repeatedly. Once I moved on from mourning the useless relationship, I didn’t wisely get to a place of forgiveness and self-love. Unlike the women I see on social media who experience their “eat, pray, love” phase… that phase of glowing skin, releasing thyself from the shackles of needing a man, and traveling the world and taking stunning pictures … my own post-break up story did not touch the hem of the garment of such stories of redemption. It didn’t even occur to me to perhaps spend my new-found singleness discovering happiness. Rather, I decided that since I could …