Nestle had always been a “too” since she was a baby.

She was always too much

or too little.

She was either too small or too big

She was too strong, too rough, too passionate, she had too many edges, she asked too many questions.

Tetley had always been a “to”

He was always in the background.

He was never the subject or the object but simply took his position between them.

In his last year of high school, his 4th girlfriend (he’d had one for every year)  had had a conversation with him he had tried to forget, she was trying to break up with him and he was trying to understand why.

“This isn’t about me is it?” he asked, referring to the breakup

“That’s the problem T, this isn’t about you, it’s NEVER about you! It’s always about me, it’s always “how’s YOUR day” or “what do YOU want to do” or “okay if YOU want” It’s like your life does not exist without me, it’s like YOU don’t exist without me, without someone, like you can never be alone because then there is nothing about you. Tell me, have you ever said or done anything that wasn’t completely influenced by someone else?”

And that’s exactly what had brought him to the dodgiest centre he had ever had the displeasure of seeing. 1/2 of the neon letters in its sign had stopped working so instead of being “Bobby’s pleasure centre”, it  looked  like “Bby’s ere entr”, it looked a bit ominous if T was being honest and the thought of going home had crossed his mind but he swatted it away.

His ex girlfriend’s words had stayed with him even though he was in his third year of University now, he had seen the advertisement for this free ballroom dancing class on gumtree and the conversation he  had with her came flooding back to him because he  once told her it was something he’d like to do, but she said it was too cringey so he didn’t. He signed up without much thought, that would show her, also the girl he was currently talking to said she really liked boys who did “out of character” things, joining the rugby team at his University was most certainly not an option as his somewhat skinny frame would break if any of the athletic rugby lads so much as looked at him and atleast if he embarrassed himself here, no one would know about it.

She had noticed him first.

He wasn’t exceptionally good looking but Nestle liked that, she didn’t like boys that were goodlooking, she always found them somewhat inauthentic, he had a boyish features and ginger hair, features that she wouldn’t normally find attractive but he worked with them well.

Nestle was certain she had found the love of her life or maybe it’s the dim lighting and the adrenaline from the fact that there is atleast one cute guy here, she smiled at the thought.

Well I hope he doesn’t wear that shirt at our wedding, Nestle laughed silently and rolled her eyes at the thought. I’m so annoying. 

T scanned the room, there was a comfortable amount of people, comfortable in that it wasn’t cramped enough to feel claustrophobic but not too few to feel self conscious. There was a good mix of guys and women but it seemed as though most were either couples or  friends, everyone seemed to know each other. His eyes stopped at a girl who seemed to be a bit farther away from the crowd, she was a black girl with cool dark blue braids in, T had had enough black friends to know that that probably wasn’t her real hair and to know that commenting on it was probably not the best conversation starter, except maybe if it was a compliment but then she’d probably have heard that a lot. He still thought it was cool though.

She was smiling and maybe it was the lighting but she had a beautiful smile.

The instructor called for everyone to gather in a circle, possibly introduce himself and give some instructions, T wasn’t  paying attention.

His eyes looked for hers again.

She was standing right underneath the light this time, directly opposite him. Her eyes were gleaming and she tilted her neck slightly, she stared at the instructor in deep concentration, she was quite cute. His eyes moved downwards, she was wearing a black turtle neck and mid length tartan skirt. He looked down at his own choice of attire, a purple and white plaid shirt and jeans, his favourite.

T was never one to shy away from conversation or from people, he liked talking, he liked making jokes, he liked being around people, it made him feel cool, for lack of better word and  under normal circumstances, he would just stroll to her and ask her if she’d be his partner but she made him nervous, like she might look at him and see his whole life and not be interested.

The instructor was now calling for everyone to find partners and everyone was looking to each other, she had moved away from the light.


Waiting to be chosen, she sighed and looked around, she couldn’t understand why people never chose her, why she was always left on the sidelines. She looked at the cute guy who was currently staring at another girl, this always happened to her, she was never going to be chosen.

He wasn’t sure what to do but he knew he didn’t really have much time to think, it was either now or never. His legs started first and before he knew he was right in front of her,  he had walked up to her and she couldn’t believe it, she was smiling again, this time with teeth and she was beautiful.

And she was still beautiful when he placed his arm, in the most cutest awkward way she had ever seen, around her waist.

And gosh, was she beautiful when he spun her, because her skirt spun too and she laughed and if this was a ball, she would definitely be the belle.

“So what’s your name?” she asked in the break, her eyes soft but like fire at the same time, piercing, daring almost.

“Well people call me T,” he responded hoping she wouldn’t ask him his full name “What’s yours?”

“Surely, it must come from something,” she laughed “What’s your full name?” she sounded like she actually cared about what he had to say, she looked like she wanted to know everything about him.

“Promise you won’t laugh, I hate my name, like I feel like my parents were having a laugh when they named me.” He said smiling, she laughed, he had such a lovely smile and his voice was nothing like anything she thought she would be attracted to but she loved it, she would have never thought that an Irish accent could  be remotely sexy, especially after how many times she had heard it.

“Let’s hear it then.”

“My full name is Tetley,” she couldn’t help laughing at the coincidence, it was just too humorous.

“I told you not to laugh!” he said like a child, which only made her laugh harder. he had an amused expression on his face which made her crush for him intensify and his eyes, his eyes were so piercing, they made her feel like a girl and a woman at the same time.

“No! No!” she said in between giggles “It’s not that, it’s just..” she said

“Just what?” he asked, crossing his arms again like a defensive child.

“My name is Nestle.” He couldn’t contain it himself either and laughed

“Are you serious?” He said through chuckles

“I guess our parents really enjoyed breakfast beverages.”

The conversation rolled on for the rest of the night. She called him Tea and he in return called her Mocha, because that was her favourite coffee. He went to the University of Edinburgh and she went to Heriot Watt, she gave him the facts about why Heriot Watt was superior, he didn’t agree. They both agreed One Direction was the best thing that happened to them  however he was very “After Zayn” and she was “Before Zayn”.

She was different, she had responses.

He listened.

She was fast with her remarks.

He asked questions.

She understood all his references.

He knew his memes.

She even had ones he did not recognise.

There were so many things she could tag him in.

She was funny.

He laughed at her jokes.

She was energetic.

He was grounded.

She was eager.

He was calm.

She asked questions.

He didn’t make her feel like a nuisance.

She was passionate.

He understood.

She was strong.

He was strong.

Even though she was little, her personality was big and she wasn’t afraid.

Even though he was big, he didn’t make her feel little.

She was honest.

He was kind.

She made him feel like he was the most interesting person in the world, he actually started believing he might be.

He made her feel just enough.


The class ended too quickly.

She wasn’t ready to go home yet, he had to make her stay.

He had to.

“Anywhere I can take you to?” He asked, grinning.

“Well, I guess I’m not too tired.” She responded.

And so they left together, to find a place for two.


The Aftermatt -pt 3 & 4

March- Absentmindedness

I make tea.
It tastes funny.
April – Depression 
The tears continue to stream down my eyes. Sleep seems lonelier now.
It doesn’t matter, I don’t want to sleep anyway. It seems like I don’t know how to.
I hope that if I don’t go to sleep then perhaps the day last longer and if the day last longer that is one less day that I have to get ready to go on without him.
I am falling apart and I know it.
I want to switch off. I wish I could switch off. Every breathe feels like an arrow to the heart. I haven’t used my phone in days, there is no point. How can I touch my phone knowing that the last time I touched it, I was with him. Knowing that we made plans on that device, we declared love on it.
His face is on my screen.
His face is on my mind.
I want to switch off.
Another wave of showers

The Aftermatt

Hey boos,

I completely forgot about blogging yesterday! Sorry friends but I’m back now with the second part of The AfterMatt, enjoy!

February- Despair

My roommate smiles at me as I enter the room, I smile back. She does not notice and I do not expect her to. She chats on about her lectures, how she can never understand what he’s talking about and does not understand why she bothers going everyday, she informs me that she is going home on Friday and to kindly water her plants whilst she is gone, Freddie, the tall plant needs to be watered in the morning, she has placed his nutrition powder next to the sugar and Carla her smaller plant needs to be watered on Saturday, she’ll write me a schedule because she knows I will forget. She reminds me that we have run out of tissue paper and milk.
I remember that Matt and I do grocery shopping on Saturdays.
I can feel myself slowly disintegrating. It starts from my stomach. A sharp drop, like someone has dropped a cement block in it. Then my heart stirs, that too is a sharp pain, unexpected and violent. I feel my ears heat up and a small almost undetectable prick in my eyes, I blink, the tears fall.
I don’t bother wiping my tears or controlling the sobbing sounds coming from my mouth, it’s better she is exposed to it now, she can get used to it faster.


Let me know what you think!

Have a blessed day,

Lots of love,

Gedo xx

down with perfection

Hey boos,

How are you?

So I’m currently on my 4th day? 5th day? of my project to produce content every day and I think it’s going alright? I’m especially enjoying vlogging so that’s pretty great.

Today, I want to talk about the media and content creators on the media (I’m saying, in general, okay, not everyone is going to be the same) but I think there is a certain lack of rawness when it comes to social media, vloggers, Instagram models, and influencers they all give the impression that life is perfect and scripted which is not how youtube began. I was watching a talk by JacksGap, if you don’t know who he is then google him lol, it was a talk that really inspired me and he starts off by talking about how the thing that attracted him to youtube was how “real” and “raw” it was and how content was “scripted” or “sexy” and it got me thinking because that’s almost exactly what youtube is nowadays, it’s what social media is nowadays, everyone trying to portray their “perfect” life with “perfect white teeth” and “perfect clothing” and “perfect friends” doing “perfect activities” whilst suffering in silence, he goes on to talk about how the pressure of having a big youtube channel got to him and he used to go to bed and cry every night because he didn’t know what to do. This story tends to be consistent amongst youtubers or social media influencers who can no longer bear the weight of their pretense.

It’s not like I blame them either, because that essentially is what the people want to see, whether we want to admit it or not, people like to see perfection, we like to see pretty things, we like to see people with expensive things, it’s a love-hate relationship. We try to pick them apart to make ourselves feel better but at the same time go back every week to see what they’re doing, we’re also curious beings, we want to know what the next person is doing at every moment.

Which is why I ask for us to be more appreciative of rawness, to be more welcoming of people who aren’t “perfect”, and to accept people for who they are behind the filter.

What do you think? Let me know..

Have a blessed day,

Lots of love,

Gedo xx

Ode to the nameless.

Honestly, this one is for my ladies and gentlemen out there who are their own motivators because I don’t think they get enough credit.

I’m talking about my ladies and gents who even when they are constantly being shot at, they continue to march.

For my people who don’t get the recognition they deserve, who don’t get appreciated but still have the heart to appreciate.

For those people who don’t get noticed but are brave every day.

For those ones who are afraid but don’t let fear cripple them.

The ones that get out of bed everyday and even though they carry the weight of the world on their shoulder, they smile because it’ll be one less thing for someone else to worry about.

The ones that have been stabbed in the heart many times, been disappointed many more but still have the courage to love.

For those who have been bruised, broken and beaten but every time they get up, dust themselves up and keep going.

The ones that are proud of their battle scars.

For my girls and guys who don’t walk into the room expecting heads to turn, because they understand that sweetest fruits are tougher to see, and hardest to reach.

For those who make no apologies about who they are. Who have started a storm inside of them. Who look at their skin and smile because it reminds them that they are alive, and to be alive is assurance enough.

For those ones who have dined with pain, who have dealt with disaster, who have danced with the fire and dribbled with terror but still laugh.

The ones that have accepted themselves for the complicated, awkward, graceless, strange, beautiful mess that they are.

There is beauty in your strength.

There is grace in your fight.

For that, you are glorious.



The struggle of not texting back.

Hey boos,

How are you guys doing? How was your week? Ride on the weekend, not that I have anything planned for it. I literally said, about a year ago when I wrote The struggles of not getting a text back and I never did, so a year later, here I am, doing what I said I would (a year ago but really who’s counting).

Presenting, The struggles of not texting back.

Stage 1: Overwhelmed 

It’s like people only ever know to text you when you’re busy or talking to someone else or finishing up your essay that is due by 12 A.M. So there you are, minding your business, doing your task and you get the unexpected beep and you’re overwhelmed because people don’t normally text you.


“What is going on?”

Stage 2: Distracted

So you’ve seen the notification, you’ve registered the text and you kinda feel popular because your phone buzzed. You put the essay writing away for a bit and prepare to send the text, you’ve even prepared what you’re going to text back in your brain because you are just organized like that. However just at that moment, your best friend tags you in a meme or you see a youtube notification and before you know it, 5 hours have passed and you’re watching slime videos or somehow on your cousin’s friend’s sister’s boyfriend’s cousin’s page, laughing because she has a good taste in memes.


Stage 3: Forgetfulness.

By now you’ve completely lost all memory that someone texted you earlier and as far as you’re concerned, your phone is just as dry as you started. You put your phone away and get on with your business, completely oblivious to the fact that someone is rethinking their relationship with you.


“Why is my phone always so dry..?”

Stage 4: Recollection. 

Sometime during the day (or days, depending on how bad you are) you recollect that someone sent you a text and this can either go two ways, either you assume that you responded them back and get a little bit annoyed at the fact that they texted you first and never responded back so you go to check or you have no idea if you responded back so you check.


“Why would they text me and not text me back…wait..”

Stage 5: Guilt. 

There it is.

There it is.

The text the person texted you several hours ago, cold and unloved.

You never responded to it.

It is at this point that the guilt rushes through your brain and you remember all the times people left you on read.  As far as you’re concerned you’re a hypocrite undeserving of this person’s love and affection so you decide not to text back because you feel that texting them back after so many hours is rude and they might have forgotten about the text by now.

So you just leave it and hope it doesn’t continue to haunt you.


Stage 6: The Apology/response/make-up.

Sometimes, you apologize and respond to their text and they respond back with almost (almost) no animosity and everything is good again, the guilt completely dissipated and life is back to being the sunny daze you know that it is.


“I am AN AMAZING friend..”

I did it guys! I completed this “series”

I hope you enjoyed!

Have a blessed week,

Lots of love,

Gedo xx

Disclaimer: I own none of the gifs and this is a joke, dont take it too seriously or seriously at all tbh. 

What’s in my drafts 2

Hey boos!
Merry Christmas and Happy new year!
I know I haven’t posted in a long time, I’ve just been very busy. Here is another what’s in my drafts post for you and if you’re new, what’s in my drafts is when I go into my notes and pick out whatever story I’m working on. You can find the first one here.
I hope you enjoy this one, this story is copyrighted and all rights are reserved.
Everyone had their talent and every superhero had their weapon, Delilah’s was manipulation  It was her talent, her craft, her skill and just as people worked to progress in their various fields, Delilah worked to progress in her manipulation. She took inspiration where she could and of course her favorite character was Iago from Othello. His ability to cause so much chaos with just a few words always managed to amuse her. 
Delilah first recognized it really was her talent when she was eight years old, in school all the girls in her class and even some in the class above raved about a certain pack of glitter pens that could erase themselves. If Delilah managed to get her hands on them, she would become the most popular girl in her class and all the girls and guys who come to like her and play the games she wanted to play and ask for her permission before doing certain things like they did with Susan at the time, she wanted that. Her problem was that, even at that young age, Delilah knew that her dad was a fickle man with a very tight fist, asking him outright to buy her the pens like some children could do would get her in a lot of trouble. Her mother, on the other hand, adored her children but she always stood firmly by her husband, if her dad said it was a no, then it was staying a no. She wasn’t the smartest child, she knew that, her eldest brother was so she couldn’t entice her dad with good results, plus she was eight, he wouldn’t take her seriously and she wasn’t the sportiest either, that was her bigger sister and she most certainly wasn’t the prettiest or the cutest like her youngest sister was, it seemed like the odds were against but Delilah wouldn’t give in. 
Delilah observed her parents for weeks, looking for some sort of crack and she finally found one. Her father, although she absolutely loved him, was an arrogant man and liked to be reminded of his accomplishments and how good looking he was and how good of a job he was doing, she knew that because whenever her mother praised him, he always had a twinkle in his eyes and smile that would last the entire day all the way till the next day. Her mother adored her children and that was her problem, she adored them too much, she couldn’t stand to see any of them sad and if they were she would do her absolute best to make them happy again. Delilah waited for another week before putting her plan into action. She approached her father when they were without their mother, she sat next to him whilst the others were engrossed by the television. 
“Dad, do you know something?” he looked at his daughter, letting her know she could go on. 
“My teacher gave us this assignment to write about the best person in the world and she told us that whoever wrote the best one would get a star with their name on it” her father nodded
“I wrote about you,” Delilah paused as she watched his face light up “and she gave me a star, she told me it was so convincing and good and that I must have put a lot of effort in my work, and I told her that it wasn’t hard at all because my dad is easily the best person in the world.” Her dad laughed, the twinkling back in his eyes. He picked her up and gave her a peck on the cheek
“You’re easily the best girl in the world” and she smiled, her other siblings looked at her before turning back to the television, she was planning something but they didn’t say anything because their parents wouldn’t believe them anyway. They had always known she was mischievous but it seemed like no one else saw it, they tried not to mind too much, after all she was the reason why they all got an increase in pocket money and for that, they would be eternally grateful. 
Delilah didn’t mention anything more for another two weeks and then she would say something that would tickle his ego, she did this cycle continuously, asking him questions that he definitely knew the answers to and then praising him afterward, something she’d noticed her mom do whenever she wanted to ask for something. Doing this typically everyday man is on the block! made him forget whatever rude or bad thing she had done giving him only good memories of her behavior. 
She waited for a few more days and went to her mother and told her about these new gels pens that were going about the school but she didn’t say more than that and quickly changed the topic. There was no way she, herself could ask her dad for something, he’d fish her out immediately, no, she had to go through her mother. After her mother picked her up from school, she would usually ask her for a cookie from the cookie jar, which her mother would typically grant to her. However on that very day, Delilah went straight to her room, she purposefully broke two of her absolute favourite pens, it hurt her to do it at the time but she was determined to get those gel pens. She broke them, sat down and began to cry. About 5 minutes later, her mother noticing that she didn’t come down to ask for a cookie, walked into her room to find out what the matter was and of course, like any mother would agree, her daughter crying caused her great distress. 
“Delilah? What’s wrong?” her mother said at the door, she pretended not to hear and sobbed loudly. 
“Delilah?” her mother came closer, she quickly wiped her tears away and turned around. 
“Oh mommy, I didn’t see you there.” 
“What’s wrong chicken?” her mother asked and just as she had planned, Delilah broke down. 
“I’m sorry, I don’t want to come off as ungrateful..”
“Tell mommy what’s wrong?”
“All the girls in my school have gel pens and I don’t and I didn’t care because I had these two special pens” she said showing her mother “and now they’re broken” crying more, her mother knowing how much she loved those pens couldn’t bear to see her daughter in such distress. 
“It’s okay, it’s okay, we’ll get you new pens”
“It won’t be the same” she wailed “These pens are special”
“We’ll get you new ones, the best ones, what about those erasable gel pens I heard about? those sound nice” Delilah shook her head
“I don’t want them.” 
“Oh come on, you’ll love them” by now, Delilah’s wails turned to murmurs, she cleared her nose and looked at her hands and then asked 
“Can I get a cookie as well please?” her mother chuckled 
Okay hunny.” 
“two?” she asked, outstepping the boundaries
“Okay, but only because you’ve had such a rubbish day.” Delilah smiled and just like that, 2 days later, Delilah stepped into school proudly with her gel pens and a pretty new bow that her dad had bought for her because she was being such a good girl. 
As she sat there, proudly whilst the girls looked at her pens sat neatly on her desk, Delilah felt even prouder than the fastest, most intelligent, prettiest person in the world. 
Make sure to comment, like and follow! And if you still can’t get enough of me my social media links are on the right.
Lots of love,
Have a blessed day,
Gedo xx

What’s in my drafts: 1

Hey boos,

I haven’t written in exactly 15 days (not that I’ve been counting, it’s just that wordpress let’s you know how many days ago you made your last post.)

It’s not like I haven’t been writing, I have been writing just not blog-y stuff, I just haven’t had the motivation to but I’m going to try my hardest to get it back. Anyway though, I decided since we’re best friends and I love you all. Why don’t I share some of the writing that I have been working? Since I’ve been spending all my time doing it instead of blogging, I might as well show you what I’ve been working on.

Before we start though, I know you guys noticed something a little different *coughTHEFEATUREDIMAGEHASCHANGEDcough* What do we think? I quite like it, I think it pops out at you which is exactly what I want and it’s very all in your face (like me lol) So what do we think? Which one do you guys prefer? My really, really old one (The ones who were here from the beginning will know), the one with the girl illustration on it or this one?

Okay back to the matter at hand.

So the first draft I’m going to show you, hasn’t actually got a title yet, it’s all still very much in the works. So here’s what I have so far, also don’t destroy me about grammar okay? We all know writers aren’t the best at grammar (lol we don’t all know this and I’m pretty sure it’s just me.)

“Hey, I love you.” 
“Yea, yea, can I go now?”
“Where are you going?” I gasped dropping my backpack on the floor and the contents spilling out, phone, charger, my wallet, snacks. 
“You scared me, nowhere,” I said picking up my stuff, I looked up at him and ran my fingers through my hair “Nowhere, I’m just going for a drive.”
He stared at me for a very long time, his sharp blue eyes moving back at forth from my bag back to my face as if he was looking for something. After a while, his facial expressions fell and the usual tired one that hadn’t left his face these past few days returned. 
“Okay,” he said, finally “Just, make sure you come back.” I gave him a small smile and turned my back on him before releasing a small sigh. 
“Will you call me?” he asked, I turned to face him again, slightly shocked. He gave me a tired smile. 
“I don’t know,” I responded, this was the first conversation we had had since he flew down about a week ago, we didn’t know how to talk anymore. He was always the cheerful uncle, the happy uncle, the uncle that brought good news. He wasn’t prepared for any of it, but then again who could really blame him, it wasn’t like this had ever happened before. 
“Well, see ya when you get back? Maybe then we’ll talk.” I nodded before turning my back on him again and slipping out the back door. It was about 4 am and the air stung my cheeks. The sun was just rising and had painted the sky a beautiful purple and pink shade, the trees at the back huddled together and instead of giving me the comfort like they usually did, they looked threateningly inauspicious. I shivered before walking through the back gate to the front of the house, where my car was parked. I passed the back because I wanted to avoid the telltale front door, it would have creaked and woken everybody up and then I  would have had a lot of explaning to do.
I opened the door to my car, an old second hand toyota that had one too many repairs and was a lot more work than it was worth but I couldn’t just give Olivia up like that, we had an inexplicable bond. I got into the car and sat for a moment, not turning on the car, just sitting. I gazed at my neighbourhood, a place that had once held countless happy memories, summers of bike rides and when my hot neighbour moved in, all clouded by just this one. I squeezed the stirring wheel of the car so tightly that it left a red mark on my palm. I looked at the house that was sitting beside mine, the lights were turned off except for the one, the one in Callum’s bedroom. Callum was a certified night-owl, who’s light only went off when the sun light seeped into his window. I hadn’t said anything to him, in fact I hadn’t said anything to anybody but he knew, they all did somehow.
He had come, he brought flowers, and for the first time since he moved here he noticed me but I didn’t care anymore. He hugged me as well, at a point in my life I would have lost sleep over it but then, when it happened, after everything, I couldn’t wait to get out of it. 
I hesitated for a minute before starting the car.
I drove and drove and drove and drove and didn’t stop driving until my street became just another line on google maps. 
Sooooo what are we thinking? do we like? do we not like? What is she running away from? And who’s this Callum guy anyway, is he important??? is he the hot neighbour??? (I can answer this one right now and tell you, yes, yes he is.)
Let me know what you think, would you like to read more? Would like to see more of what’s in my draft? Lemme know in the comments below or dm me by hitting me up on one of social medias, everything available on the cute little isle on the side.
Have a blessed day,
Lots of love,
Gedo xx
p.s. it’s copyrighted, don’t steal thx

The truth about Results day

Hey boos,

LOL it has been a very long time, or it feels like it. Happy month of July, I pray the month of July brings a lot of great things for all of you, I have a really good feeling about this month so I am very excited, very exciting things to come so definitely watch this space.

Anyway though, so yesterday, July 6th was a very big moment for a group of people (a people that I have come to relate to), yesterday was IB results day.

For those that don’t know, the IB stands for international Baccalaureate (I spent 2 years doing it and I still dont know how to spell it)  and according to the website, it is is a non-profit educational foundation offering four highly respected programmes of international education that develop the intellectual, personal, emotional and social skills needed to live, learn and work in a rapidly globalizing world (IB). Every student knows that anything defined in less than 2 lines is going to be a problem so brace yourself.  

There are 4 main parts of the IB programme;

Courses: You have to take 6 2 year courses, atleast 3 of them must be at higher level and with each course you must write an internal assessment, which is like a research paper except your language courses (Spanish, German, English, Yoruba etc) where you write a WA (written assessment). Your WAs get marked by teachers picked by the IB programme whilst your IAs get marked by your actual teachers (which is why they are called Internal Assessments)

TOK: TOK is a 1 year course, it stands for Theory of knowledge (tbh I don’t even know how to explain this subject, let’s just say you talk a lot about a lot of deep stuff that you don’t even care to know unless you care to know) at the end of this course, you have to write your TOK essay

As if you didn’t have enough on your plate there’s still

CAS: Creative, active and Service hours. You have to complete 50 hours of supervised activities under those three categories (not as easy as it sounds), at the end of each activity you have to write a report about it, including what you learn’t from it (and if you didn’t learn anything, you better know how to create something out of nothing, but that’s okay, it’s a skill you’ll learn after the 2 years)

EE: Your extended essay is a 4000 word essay you have to write under a course (any of the 6 courses you’re taking, during my time, it had to be out of your Higher levels but they’ve changed it now)

Ofcourse, there are also tests, quizzes, essays and all that basic stuff you do in class, we had to do that and then these 4 parts so the IB definitely was not for the faint-hearted.

Whilst I was doing the IB, the best part of my day was going to bed because that was the only time I wasn’t worrying about anything.  I really didn’t enjoy it, I didn’t hate my school, I didn’t hate my teachers (I actually loved them), I didn’t hate my peers (they were tolerable, lol jk love you guys) but I really disliked doing the IB programme.

Do I regret doing it? I don’t think so, but that’s because I had a great support system (I am  blessed to have a family that didn’t add any extra pressure to the pressure I was already putting on myself), I had great friends and understanding teachers so I don’t regret it but if you took away all of that then I think I would have regretted doing it.

Would I recommend it? Depending on the person, if you are a strong person or someone that enjoys challenges or you have a great support system or blessed intellectually  then I think definitely go for it but if you are none of the above then don’t do it, it’s a lot of work and a lot of pressure.

Results day was probably one of the worst days of my life, I was so stressed and worried, I couldn’t sleep, my stomach was hurting and I kept using the bathroom every 5 minutes.

When I saw my results, I was shaking, I was so disappointed and maybe heartbroken, my parents had guests that day so when I saw my grades, I went and showed them then I went back into my room literally screaming and crying that I wasn’t going to University, I cried the entire day (thinking back at it now, I roll my eyes, I know I am dramatic but come on Gedo) I got a 29 by the way, I was predicted a 31, so I was 2 points lower than my predictions, although for a lot of them I was 1 point lower from crossing the grade boundary so if I got them remarked and gotten those points I could have gotten a 32 (which isnt a 45 but LOL) 

I was so disappointed in my results, I couldn’t even tell people because I felt so ashamed of myself. After calls and preparing myself for clearing, I actually got into Uni with those results, and I ended up not going into clearing.

A year later, with my 29 and a lot of help from God, I have been accepted to schools in Germany, Canada and the UK (I tried again).

Basically what I am trying to say is, at the end of the day, your result is your result, a reflection of how you did at that point in your life not a reflection of yourself. Yes, you got grades you didn’t expect or want but honey it’s not the end of the world, life still goes on and you will go on with it.

I am happy I pushed through and did the IB, I am happy that I have a diploma with my name on it and I am overjoyed it is over.

So no worries my g, you got this.

Lots of love,

Gedo xx

Sis say what??: The Green Alien Called Jealousy by Ibukun (Adekemi) Goke-Dabiri

The Green Alien Called Jealousy

Hey y’all! It is I! Yes. I said y’all, deal with it (*insert overused meme here*). So, if you haven’t noticed, people have taken over the wonderful Gedo’s blog, and I guess it’s my turn to take my part.
So… I want to discuss something with you people. Don’t worry. This isn’t going to be some lecture or anything. Think of it as, a life lesson. So sit back, grab a couple of snacks, and enjoy.
I want to talk about jealousy. The thing about this eight letter word is it can be really hard for one to confess that they have it. They can deny it all they want, but the truth is… people have expressed some sort of jealous feeling once in their life, like me for instance.

And no, I never got jealous about being in love, or not owning the newest craze (like a fidget spinner). I would be jealous of people’s success, even if I didn’t know them. Of course, I am aware that being jealous is a sin, but is just a humane thing to feel sometimes. I’m not saying ‘Don’t be jealous!’ because everyone has felt it before. Just don’t take it to the point where it drains your energy, you complain about everything, and/or push people away from you.
Now that I have grown older and wiser, that little green alien called jealousy no longer accompanies me. Yes, it does pop by for a visit now again, but I’ve learnt that being jealous isn’t going to solve anything.
Let me give you an example. My friends, course-mates and myself were chilling during lunch one day, and we come across the subject ‘what we wanted do to after this 1st year’. Some are remaining to carry on the particular degree that we are on, whilst the rest want to do something else. Nothing wrong with that. One of them stated how he wants do to medicine, and I responded that one of my friends is studying medicine in Granada. He then smiled and asked if this was really true, with which I responded yes. He continued to smile and nod, but I could catch the small glint of jealousy in his eyes.
Fast forward a couple of months, and he realizes that he can’t do medicine like he wanted to. He complained how he felt like giving up and that there was no point in carry on with the course. I suggested that he could take a different route and do medicine later on in life or do something similar to medicine. But he continued on to complain and became a little envious towards those who are reaching their goals.
The point I’m trying to make, is that it is okay to be disappointed about not being able to do your ‘dream job’ or whatever it is you are trying to achieve. What isn’t okay is being jealous of other people’s success. Being jealous isn’t going to solve anything.

I have noticed through social media and in real life, people seem to be getting more and more jealous of people’s success. I can’t tell them off or rant at them in anyway, because I was once like them. However, I’ve tried guiding them so they no longer feel this way. And I want to share some of these tips with you guys too.

1. If you want something, you need to go out, work hard, and get it.
This is an obvious status, but you will not know how many people I’ve heard complain about not reaching their goals, and then despising those who are ‘living their dream’. First of all, no. They are NOT living your dream. They are living THEIR dream.
I know how annoying and frustrating it can be. This person seems to be going forward whilst you are still suck in a ditch, but this isn’t the case. The person that you despise was exactly where you were before (Surprise!). They just decided to focus and strive towards their goal. Don’t believe me? Do you think Usain Bolt became the fastest runner overnight? What about Kanye West? He had to start somewhere. And John Green. All those drafts certainly payed off in the end. My point is, don’t sit around and hate on those who are working hard.

If you want something, go for it. Work hard. You will get there in the end.

2.  Jealousy is so exhausting
Honestly, it is. More than 50% of your energy is used towards being jealous at one time. ONE TIME! And you end up getting tired, stressed, upset, and even more jealous. That energy you used towards jealousy could have been used on something else, something useful, and it might have helped you become closer to your goal.

3. Jealousy is unattractive
In my own opinion, one of the biggest turn offs is being jealous towards someone. Now, I’m not saying ‘Don’t be jealous at all’. But there is a point where if you don’t do anything to be in the same position or even higher than that particular person, you may as well stop talking to me, because I won’t hear it. Harsh I know, but that is the truth. The amount of times I hear someone that I find a bit attractive complaining and not doing anything about it is a big turn off.

Just don’t do it…

4. Jealousy + Complaints = Rage = No friends?
This mathematical equation might not be 100% accurate, but it can be the truth. Once you are jealous, you start complaining. Once you start complaining, you can become extremely angry. Once you are angry, some will not want to associate with you. Harsh? I know. If your true friends still stick with you during this time then cu-dos to them, but I know people who don’t associate with others because of this systematic sequence they go through. They just don’t want to deal or be part of it.

I hope I’ve passed my point across. This little green alien can cause havoc and stress, and can turn our once pure soul into one that is dark.
After a couple of years, I am happy to say that the little alien does not stay as long as it used to before. But how did I do it? I just followed those steps, and other little tricks to help me become calm and peaceful.

Cause in the end, the only person that is going to get hurt is the one who lives with the little green alien.


There was another topic that I wanted to discuss with you guys, but thought it was more appropriate to talk about it in a video. (

I hope you’ve learned something from this, and I hope it isn’t too cheesy either.
Till next time, this is me signing off.
-Ibukun (Adekemi) Goke-Dabiri