No one can drain your energy unless you hand them the switch.
What if this silence is not rejection… but preparation?
What if the delay is not denial, but a rearrangement for your good?
What if the closed door is saving you from something painful?
What if the thing you lost is making space for what truly fits?
What if this loneliness is how you find your real strength?
What if your tears are watering the seeds of tomorrow’s joy?
What if the pain you’re in now is shaping a softer, wiser version of you?
What if the ending you fear is just the beginning you need?
What if the people who left were never meant to walk into your next chapter?
What if your slow season is protecting you from rushing into the wrong place?
What if God hasn’t forgotten you — He’s just not finished yet?
What if the waiting room is where your faith grows legs?
What if your story is not over, it’s just in a plot twist?
What if your strength is being built quietly in the middle of all this pain?
What if you’re not behind — you’re being refined?
What if the tears you cry tonight are the proof that you still care, still believe, still hope?
What if you’ll look back at this season and whisper, “I needed that pause”?
What if tomorrow looks nothing like today — but in a good way?
What if you’re closer to the miracle than you think?
What if you don’t give up this time… and that changes everything?
Maybe today, you feel like that dull monkey.
You’ve tried, you’ve prayed, you’ve worked — but things still seem slow.
Please, don’t lose your colour.
Even when no one claps for you, keep shining.
Your time will come.
And when it does, may you remember how it felt to wait.
Because the waiting season shapes your wisdom.
It teaches humility, empathy, and the courage to smile again.
So yes, that banana may not be yours yet — but your day is coming.
And when it does, your colours will speak louder than your words. 🌈
The Girl with the Scar and Keen Eyes
Podcast Title: “The Girl with the Scar and Keen Eyes”
Episode from: Ardarrh Inspiring Podcast
Have you ever met a child whose eyes seemed to hold a hundred stories… but lips barely told one?
This is the story of Tara, an 11-year-old girl with a scar across her cheek… and the kind of eyes that made you feel like she could see straight through you.
She didn’t talk much. She didn’t need to. Her eyes did the talking. Keen, curious, quietly searching.
But what no one knew—what no one stopped to
One small mistake, one question too many, one breath at the wrong time—and the shouting would come.
And so, at just 11 years old, Tara made a decision: If I make people happy, maybe they won’t hurt me. If I become perfect, maybe I’ll finally be enough.
So she tried.
people like me, maybe they won’t scream.
[Softer music fades… beat of silence]
But here’s the thing about scars—no matter how well you cover them, they still itch when healing wants to begin.
One day, Tara’s literature teacher—Mrs. Daniels—gave the class a writing assignment:
"Write a poem titled: ‘The Day I Felt Real.’”
Most kids scribbled down a memory from their birthday, a holiday, or when they won a prize.
But Tara?
She didn’t have that kind of memory.
So she wrote from hope.
“The day I felt real
No one needed me to bow
I laughed with a mouth full of bread
And no one called me greedy
My scar wasn’t a label
My eyes weren’t mirrors
I was just… me
And that was enough.”
Mrs. Daniels didn’t read it out loud.
She didn’t need to.
She just looked at Tara the next day and said something that changed her forever:
“You’re already real. Even if no one claps.”
Tara blinked. She didn’t cry—not right away. But that night, for the first time, she looked in the mirror… touched her scar… and whispered, “Maybe I don’t have to earn love.”
It didn’t all change overnight. She still wanted to be liked. She still said sorry too quickly. But something inside her had shifted.
She started asking new questions:
Do I like me?
What do I want?
Who would I be… if I wasn’t afraid?
Tara grew up slowly, gently. Her eyes? Still sharp. Still watching. But now, she wasn’t studying people to be safe—she was studying herself to be free.
She kept the scar. She even grew to love it.
Because that scar didn’t mark her as broken.
It marked her as a survivor.
If you’re listening to this and you’ve ever felt like you had to be perfect to be loved…
If you’ve ever shrunk yourself to fit into someone’s comfort zone…
If you carry invisible scars and wear a loud smile to hide them…
Just like Tara, I want you to know:
You’re already real. Even if no one claps.
This story was written and narrated by me, Ardarrh.
If it touched your heart, share it with someone who needs to hear it.
And remember, on this podcast, we don’t just tell stories—we heal through them.
Until next time, stay kind… to others, and to yourself.
Welcome to ‘Nothing But Everything’ with Radhika. This is the space where we talk about everything that matters—and doesn’t—all at once. Unfiltered thoughts, honest laughter, random reflections, and those deep dives that sneak up on you in the middle of a regular day. Let’s talk about life, love, identity, chai, dreams, boredom—because everything is connected, and nothing is off limits.
Life, as we Igbos know, is not just about what we have, but who we are and how we carry our story. Our ancestors taught us that "Nwata bulie aka, o bulie aka nne ya" — when a child raises their hand, they raise their mother’s hand too. This reminds us that our actions carry the weight of those who came before us and those who will come after.
Sometimes life feels heavy. The dreams we chase, the burdens we bear — it’s like carrying a heavy ukwu (basket) on a long journey. But the Igbo spirit says “Igbo enwe eze” — we have no king, meaning we each are responsible for our own destiny. The strength to keep going lies within us.
There are moments when tears fall silently, when the world doesn’t understand our pain. But remember, “E jiri mara onye na-agba n’iyi bụ mmiri” — the one who runs to the river is known by the water. Seeking help or shedding tears does not make us weak; it makes us human.
Life’s true wealth is found in uche (wisdom), ndidi (patience), and ime mmuo (spirit). Let us hold tight to our culture, to our language, and to the love that binds our families together.
To my Igbo brothers and sisters, no matter where life takes you, keep your head high and your heart strong. Your story is powerful. Your roots are deep. And your future is bright.
Aging is inevitable, but how we do it is a choice. Some people grow with time, gaining wisdom, embracing new ideas, and staying inspired. Others let the weight of the years dim their fire.
There’s a difference between adding years to your life and letting those years take away your spark.
Grow old, but don’t go old. Keep evolving. Keep learning. Keep living.
What’s your take?
https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/12576076-grow-old-but-don-t-go-old
Description:
In this debut episode of Stories That Move, host Adanne Udejiofor Chukwudi, a tech-driven creative and motivational writer, shares how overcoming low self-esteem has fueled her journey to success. Adanne talks about how embracing her personal challenges helped her grow in her writing, digital marketing, and design career. Learn how your own story can be a powerful tool for building a personal brand, connecting with others, and finding professional growth. This episode will inspire creatives, freelancers, and entrepreneurs to embrace their unique paths and turn their experiences into opportunities.
Keywords:
Creative success, personal growth, storytelling, freelance tips, digital marketing, overcoming low self-esteem, motivation, branding.