Evi Ogbodu

There were years I stayed at home doing nothing, while my mates gained admission into the university. Every holiday season, they would return home with stories, new experiences, confidence, and progress. And there I was… still in the same place.

People looked at me like I had no vision, no direction, no goals for my life.

What many did not understand was that sometimes people are not lazy — they are tired, discouraged, delayed, confused, or silently fighting battles they don’t even know how to explain.

Watching everyone move ahead while you remain stuck can damage your confidence deeply. You begin to question yourself. You begin to wonder if life forgot you.

I carried shame for years because I felt behind.

But one thing I am learning now is that delayed is not destroyed. Some journeys take longer. Some people bloom later. And sometimes the people who looked lost are actually still trying to find themselves through pain, pressure, and disappointment.

If you are in a season where your life feels paused while everyone else is moving, please don’t hate yourself for it. Your timing may not look like others’, but your story is still valid.

I am still growing. Still learning. Still becoming.

✓✓The Psychological Effects of Rejection 💔

Rejection is more than just being told “No.”
Sometimes, it becomes a silent wound people carry for years without realizing it.

A child rejected by parents may grow into an adult constantly seeking validation.
A student repeatedly mocked may become afraid of speaking up.
Someone rejected in relationships, friendships, or opportunities may begin to believe they are never enough.

The painful part about rejection is that it doesn’t always stay in the moment it happened.
It can grow into emotional baggage that follows people into adulthood — affecting confidence, relationships, communication, self-worth, and even career choices.

✓✓How can rejection be identified psychologically?

• Fear of being abandoned
• Constant people-pleasing
• Low self-esteem
• Overthinking simple situations
• Feeling unwanted even when loved
• Difficulty trusting others
• Avoiding opportunities because of fear of failure
• Emotional withdrawal or aggression

Many people are not “difficult.”
They are simply carrying wounds from rejection they never healed from.

✓✓How can it be overcome?

• Acknowledge the pain instead of suppressing it
• Stop defining your worth by people’s opinions
• Build healthy relationships and safe spaces
• Speak kindly to yourself
• Seek therapy, mentorship, or emotional support
• Understand that rejection is an experience, not your identity

Healing from rejection takes time, but it is possible.
You deserve to grow without carrying the weight of every “No” you experienced in life.

Sometimes, the strongest people are those quietly trying to heal from what broke them emotionally.

A little throw back of my Capstone project to an orphanage during my TISOM journey...

A letter From a little girl's heart!!

I lost the money Mama sent me with.
I was playing by the roadside and it slipped away.

When I got home, they said "Go back and find it. Don’t come home without it."

I looked and looked till it got dark.
I was cold. I was scared.
That night, a bad man hurt me. I slept outside, shivering.
I came back the next morning with cuts on my legs, but no money.
And I had lost something I can never get back.

Nobody believed me.
They said I was with boys.
They beat me again.

I grew up hating my parents.
Because my pride was gone.
Because I was beaten.
Because I slept outside alone that night.

Mummy, Daddy, please listen:
No amount of lost money is worth your daughter’s safety.
Nothing is more important than us.

HOW THE LOUDEST NARRATIVE BECAME MY WORST NIGHTMARE

There was a time in my life when people in my community chose a story about me… and made it louder than my own voice.

They said a young secondary school girl was dating an older man.
They whispered.
They judged.
They body-shamed.

And just like that, a lie became “truth” — simply because it was repeated enough times.

No one paused to ask: “Is this child okay?”
No one cared to hear my side.

All I wanted… was one person.
Just one person who would look me in the eye and say, “I believe you.”

But that person never came.

Instead, I carried shame that wasn’t mine.
I carried silence that broke me slowly.
I carried pain that pushed me out of school.

Yes… I had to leave.
The weight of the rumors.
The psychological trauma.
The isolation.

Even my exams suffered — I failed, not because I wasn’t capable, but because my mind was already drowning.

This is what happens when society becomes louder than truth.
This is what happens when adults choose gossip over guidance.

To every parent, guardian, and adult:

Be careful whose voice you believe.
Be mindful of the stories you accept.

Because when a child runs home crying,
they are not just looking for shelter…
they are looking for safety, belief, and understanding.

Don’t let the world define your child before you listen to them.

Create a safe space.
Be the adult who listens.
Be the adult who believes.
Be the adult who protects.

Because sometimes…
believing a child can save a life.

HOW R**E MADE ME LOSE MYSELF… AND HOW SILENCE NEARLY FINISHED ME

There’s a kind of pain that doesn’t just hurt your body… it steals your voice, your confidence, your identity.

I didn’t just lose my innocence… I lost myself.

The worst part wasn’t even what happened to me.
It was what came after.

The doubt.
The silence.
The blame.

“The way you dey waka, wetin you expect?”
“Are you sure you’re not lying?”
“Why didn’t you shout?”

Imagine a child gathering the little courage they have left… only to be met with disbelief.

That moment breaks something deep.

Because the greatest damage you can do to a child is not just ignoring their pain…
It’s making them question if their pain is even real.

I was looking for just one person.
One safe space.
One voice that would say, “I hear you. I believe you. You are not alone.”

But I found none.

And that silence?
It screamed louder than the abuse.

It told me:
“You don’t matter.”
“Your voice is not important.”
“Keep quiet.”

So I did.

For a long time.

But today, I speak — not just for myself, but for every child who is still trapped in silence.

Children need safe spaces.
Not judgment. Not blame. Not dismissal.

A safe space is not a luxury — it is a necessity.

A place where a child can speak without fear.
A place where they are believed without interrogation.
A place where healing can begin, not where shame is planted.

Parents, guardians, society —
listen to children. Believe them. Protect them.

Because when you don’t…
You don’t just lose their trust.

You may lose them.

Let’s build homes where children feel safe to speak.
Let’s create communities where silence is not forced.
Let’s become the voice they are too afraid to use.

Because one listening ear…
Can save a life.

THE ROBBERY THAT STOLE MY CONFIDENCE 💔

When I was small…
dancing was my happiness.

I didn’t need toys.
I didn’t need much.

Just music…
and my little body moving freely like nobody was watching.

I would see a dance step once — and try it.
Even if I didn’t get it right, I would laugh and try again.

I was that child.
The creative one.

I could even walk into a tailor’s shop with just a drawing…
and say, “This is what I want to wear.”

I believed in myself that much.

But somewhere along the way…
someone stole that child from me.

Not with a gun.
Not with force.

But with words.
With discouragement.

Slowly… I stopped dancing.
Slowly… I stopped creating.

I started asking,
“Is this okay?”
“Will they like it?”
“Am I good enough?”

I became a child who only wanted to be accepted…
Even if it meant losing myself.

I was scared.
Scared of losing people.
Scared of not being enough.

So I followed their voices…
even when it was taking me far away from who I really was.

I lived to impress.
Not to express.

All because I just wanted love.
I just wanted to be seen.
I just wanted to be accepted.

And now…
I’m growing up carrying fear,
timidity,
and a quiet low self-esteem that no one sees.

The hold is strong…
but I’m starting to remember that little child again.

The one who danced without permission.
The one who created without fear.

Maybe… just maybe…
I can find my way back. 💔✨

Hugs Were Expensive 💔

I grew up in a home where hugs didn’t exist.

Not because we were poor. Not because we didn’t live together.
But because affection… was missing.

As a child, I never knew what it felt like to be pulled close, to be held tight, to feel safe in someone’s arms. My dad never hugged me. My mum never hugged me. And slowly, I stopped expecting it.

I didn’t know I was lacking something… until life showed me.

I remember the first time a girl hugged me. It should have been normal, right? Simple. Pure. Harmless.

But instead… my mind went somewhere else.

I became uncomfortable. Suspicious. Confused.

I questioned her intentions. I even wondered if something was wrong—if she was lesbian—just because she showed me a kind of affection I had never experienced before.

That’s how deep the absence was.

Something as simple as a hug… became expensive to me.
Not because I couldn’t afford it—but because it was never given.

Growing up without affection changes you. It rewires your thinking. It makes you question love when you finally see it. It teaches you to doubt what should feel natural.

And the truth is… many of us are walking around like this—broken in places we don’t even talk about.

Now I’m learning.
Learning that a hug is not a threat.
Learning that affection is not weakness.
Learning that I deserved it all along.

If you’re a parent, an elder sibling, or someone raising a child—please don’t withhold love. Don’t make affection feel like a luxury.

Because some of us grew up thinking hugs were expensive… when they were supposed to be free.

Drinking and smoking felt like a game of hide and seek for me back then…

I remember those days clearly. No parents around most of the time, no elder siblings to check in or ask questions. It felt like freedom at first. No one to say “don’t do this” or “where are you going?” So I started exploring… little by little.

At first, it was just curiosity. Trying things out with friends, laughing it off, hiding it like it was some kind of adventure. I told myself, “I’m in control. It’s not that deep.”

But slowly, it stopped being a game.

What started as fun became a habit. What I thought I could hide started shaping me in ways I didn’t even realize. And the truth is, if there had been guidance… if someone was consistently there to talk to me, correct me, or even just notice me, maybe things would have been different.

This isn’t to blame anyone. Life happens. But it’s a reminder.

The absence of parents or elder siblings can create a silent gap—and in that gap, habits grow.

To every parent, guardian, or older sibling: your presence matters more than you think. Even when it feels like they’re not listening, they are watching.

And to every young person reading this: you don’t have to continue in what you picked up along the way. You can choose differently. You can start again.

Let’s show up more. Let’s guide more. Let’s talk more. 💬

I wish my experience were a season… 🌧️☀️🍂❄️

Because seasons don’t last forever.

I wish the pain came with a calendar — a start date and an end date.
I wish heartbreak could be predicted like rainfall, and healing arrived as surely as sunrise.
I wish the nights didn’t feel so long… and the silence didn’t speak so loudly.

But life doesn’t work that way.

Some of us are stuck in storms we didn’t prepare for.
Smiling in public, but breaking in private.
Growing… but grieving at the same time.

Still, here’s the truth nobody tells you:

Even if your experience doesn’t come like a season…
you are still allowed to change.

You are allowed to outgrow the pain.
To bloom in unexpected places.
To find light in the middle of your darkest moments.

Because sometimes…
you are the season you’ve been waiting for.

And one day, without even realizing it…
the storm will pass,
the sun will rise,
and you will look back and say—

“I survived what I thought would destroy me.”

If this speaks to you, don’t scroll past.
Someone else needs this reminder today ❤️

THE REAL DEFINITION OF LOVE EVERY PARENT SHOULD TELL THEIR TEENAGE CHILDREN

Let’s be honest…
Many of us grew up confusing control for love,
fear for respect,
and silence for maturity.

And now our teenagers are growing up even faster—
learning about “love” from social media, movies, and pressure…
instead of from us.

So let’s say it clearly—maybe for the first time:

Love is not control.
If someone has to monitor your every move, check your phone, or isolate you from others… that’s not love.

Love is not fear.
If you’re scared to express yourself, scared to make mistakes, or scared of being punished emotionally… that’s not love.

Love is not pressure.
Not sexual pressure. Not emotional manipulation. Not “if you love me, you will…”

Real love is safe.
It allows you to breathe, to grow, to make mistakes and still be valued.

Real love listens.
Not just to respond—but to understand.

Real love respects boundaries.
Even when it’s inconvenient.

Real love does not rush you.
It doesn’t force maturity, relationships, or decisions before you’re ready.

Parents, this conversation is not optional anymore.
If we don’t define love for them… the world will.

And the world is loud—but not always right.

Let your children know this:
👉 You don’t have to earn love by losing yourself.
👉 You don’t have to stay where you are disrespected.
👉 You deserve a love that feels like peace—not confusion.

Start the conversation today.
Not with judgment… but with truth.

Because the kind of love they accept tomorrow
is shaped by what we teach them today.