Heart Health

By. Neema Murimi

In fact, I have never been particularly gifted at filtering my thoughts and feelings. The other day, my good friend Georgia was describing how I communicate and said, “You don’t have much of a filter, Neema… actually you don’t really have one at all.” That’s not to say that I have no tact in conversation, rather, if I feel that something needs to be said, be it good or bad — it will be, because I am only interested in the truth.

So tell me why, in the midst of my aforementioned strong opinions and conveyance of them, why have I tried to destroy the voice of my own heart as it speaks to me? Why have I viewed it more as a weakness than a valuable tool until just recently?

I am 28. Actually, I turn 29 in about two weeks. It was not until June of 2017 that I met someone I genuinely liked. It was a hot summer evening in New Orleans, and I remember it distinctly for three reasons: the music and dancing my friends and I shared, the cockroach that landed on my shoulder and in so doing traumatized me for life, and the man I met that night.

Now I’d had a bit of wine that evening, which almost always makes me flirtatious. I wouldn’t be surprised if I tried to smooth talk a tree with enough cabernet in my system. But I do have standards; it would at least be a tall tree. No short saplings for me, a strong oak is more my stride. All jokes aside, this guy was different. In my inebriated state I remember thinking to myself, “He is something else.” He hardly even spoke so I don’t know how I picked up on that, but we later exchanged numbers and started texting each other. He was only in New Orleans for the summer, but even after he went back up to Georgia, the conversation continued.

It wasn’t all just coy and cute, for the next few months we told each other nearly everything about ourselves. Opened up a lot of skeletons in our closets. He just had the one closet though, whereas I had several — and they were all of the walk-in variety. There was a raw depth we shared that was smoothed over by constant bickering and banter, which I loved. One day he asked “So what are we going to argue about today?” Because your girl likes to fight…

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