I've been looking forward to my cousin’s wedding in Ikom for weeks. It was supposed to be one of those beautiful family weekends travel out of town, celebrate, see everyone I’d not caught up with in a while. But the whole plan seemed determined to stress me even before it properly began.
suppose outfit
You know those weekends when nothing seems easy? First it was the usual travel wahala. Even before setting off, I had already had delays and enough of hassle that left me so tired before the journey even commenced. But I just kept telling myself that "As long as I show up, then it is fine.”
The main laughter itself came when it was time to dress up for the wedding. I had brought this outfit I’d carefully chosen new, sharp, the type you plan so you can shine in group pictures. Was already ironed and folded in neatly in my bag. I was feeling myself, thinking “Today I will be beautiful!”
alternative outfit
But when I tried to wear it, wahala! The zip got stuck halfway, refusing to go up or down. I struggled with it like it was a fight for my life. Then as I was twisting around, trying to fix it, I heard the worst sound. The seam at the side just gave up on me. I stood there looking at the mess in shock, thinking, “Is this a joke?”
No tailor was on standby. No time to find a solution. I just had to accept my Lost!
Luckily one of my cousins had packed an extra outfit. It was only my size not exactly but at this point, I can’t picking. I squeezed myself in, adjusted it as best I could, and told myself “At least you’re covered.”
But I couldn’t even get angry too much. That weekend already felt like it was testing my patience in every way. Travel delays, clothes drama, trying to smile and greet family while thinking of how tight the borrowed outfit was.
Still, that’s the funny thing about family events. Even with all the mess, you still find a way to laugh. My cousins teased me non-stop: “Fashionista that borrows clothes.” I told them they should thank me for not coming naked. And by the time the food, drinks, and music started, I’d let it all go.
Honestly, when I think about that particular wedding weekend, I just remember the stress I had to go through ,yes ,but I also remember us squeezing into one room to gist late that some night, i remember laughing so hard , that my sides hurt, I remember the dance floor madness and how everyone completely forgot their worries for the few hours.
In the end, I guess that is what really counts, the clothes may have betrayed me, the journey may have completely stressed me, but the memories? They are mine to keep.
Read about how the rainy day was
@suqueen/the-rain-that-changed-everything-7zm
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