Today is my 33rd birthday, and as I scroll through Facebook, reading all the messages from friends and family wishing me well, I feel an overwhelming sense of joy. I haven’t felt this happy on a birthday since I turned 30. For the past few years, birthdays have been a source of dread, a painful reminder that I was growing older without a husband.
But today is different. I’ve even planned a small get-together with my girls and a few colleagues this evening at Novotel. I’ve taken the day off work to relax and celebrate.
As I scrolled, a message caught my eye—it was from Yemi. I hesitated to click on his profile, memories of the past year flooding back.
After that Monday, when I returned home, I spoke to Daniel about joining him to visit his mother that weekend. He flipped.
“Why are you so desperate? This is exactly how you ladies behave. I’ve already told you that seeing my mum will be a trigger for her, but you’re insisting because you want to act like some good wife material.”
“What? Baby, where’s this coming from? I just said I wanted to pray for her. What did I say or do wrong?”
“Prayer warrior. So, you don’t believe your prayers from here will work?”
Before I could respond, he stood up, got dressed, and drove out. I tried calling him, but he didn’t pick up. I sent messages, but he didn’t respond. Something about his behavior left me uneasy. Before leaving for work on Tuesday, I decided to take my jewelry box and a few valuables with me.
That decision proved wise. When I returned home, I found the house ransacked. Walking into my room and seeing the mess, I called Enitan, who came over immediately. Together, we noted everything missing—my iPad, money from my drawer, and some of my hairpieces. I couldn’t even cry. How had I missed the signs?
Enitan insisted we report it to the police to recover my things and money, but I wasn’t interested in escalating it. I tried calling Daniel’s number, only to discover he had blocked me on every platform—calls, WhatsApp, even Facebook.
Determined to get closure, I remembered the location I had shared with Yemi the day he picked me up from Daniel’s house. That weekend, Enitan and I went there. To our shock, the security guard informed us that the apartment was a serviced rental, used by different people for short-term stays. Daniel had only been renting it at the time.
As we walked back to the car, I broke down, clutching the steering wheel. If it had just been six months of my life wasted, I might have managed the pain. But it wasn’t just my time—it was my money and my body too. How could I have been so naive?
Enitan didn’t let me drive. She took the wheel and headed to her place to pack a bag so she could stay with me for a while. The three months that followed were some of the hardest in my life. I experienced panic attacks, my work performance dipped, and my MD eventually put me on a mandatory two-week leave.
Through it all, my friends rallied around me. They took turns staying with me, and we all made a commitment never to hide anything about our relationships from each other again.
Bunmi, the funniest of the group, would tease me, saying, “Dem no dey advise person wey love don catch, but you no even ask for advice at all.”
Eventually, I signed up for therapy—a decision that changed my life. My therapist helped me understand the concept of love bombing and why I was vulnerable to it due to my desperation. She taught me how to love myself—not to fill a void, but so I could enter relationships for the right reasons.
During therapy, I unblocked Yemi. Though his words had stung at the time, I now saw the truth in what he had said. I never messaged or checked on him, but that birthday message from him was our first interaction since then.
His message read:
Happy birthday, Dami. Here’s wishing you everything beautiful that you deserve.
I clicked on his profile. His pinned picture was a wedding photo. Yemi had gotten married four months ago.
My heart skipped a beat, but only for a moment. I realized I hadn’t been in the right place to be in a relationship with him anyway.
I exhaled deeply, feeling a sense of peace. I wasn’t married, nor did I have a boyfriend. I had been on a few dates, and there was someone I had gone out with three times, but I was taking things slow. I was asking all the right questions and giving us the space to make thoughtful decisions.
Of course, my girls were in the loop, and we were all praying about it together. Enitan’s wedding was in three months, Bunmi’s in December. That left Kunmi and me as the last two standing, so to speak.
But I was in a good place emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. I knew that when the time came, I would make the right decision with the right man.
Now, it’s time to get dressed for my party later tonight.
THE END.