Don’t do that.

Don’t do that thing you always do and start judging me. This is not the time for you to start judging me. We’re here now, and we’re doing it, and who knows? They might be happy for you. Yes, happy for me. I mean, there is literally nothing wrong with what you are about to say. You are twenty now and you were a child prodigy. Your family has always been so proud of you. You were on national television representing your family name, sitting across from the minister of Arts and Culture as he said your name, Xolile, and then presented you with the award for best teen writer in South Africa. You are educated, have a fantastic job – well, you have a job, and that counts for something. It’s not your jump-out-of-bed-and-race-to-work kind of job, but it pays the bills and the black tax, but yeah, it’s not your dream job.

And no, Xolile, this doesn’t make you a failure – it does not make me a failure – just because you have not manifested your dream job into a reality. It’s not like you can just quit and start writing full-time. What would you eat? Where would you live? Would anybody want to pay you full-time for your scribbles? Okay, you’re being harsh again, you worked on this… breathe.

I am capable of positive self-talk. I am kind to myself. Breathe.

Alright, you’ll get to your dream job. I know you will, but for now, you have to tell them. You can’t run away from it anymore. Soon you’ll start showing… People have already started asking why you’re looking a little extra round. What is it with aunties and their pure inability to edit thoughts, geez. How inconsiderate do you have to be to call someone a drum? I should have clapped back, So do you Aunty. No wonder your husband cheats on you. Hahaha, how would she have taken that? Oh, you’re so funny, you should go into comedy. Wait, no. You would be terrible at it. Imagine standing in front of an entire audience, booing you and throwing–

“Xolile, why are we here?” her mother asked nervously, shifting forward in her seat.

They were in Xolile’s childhood home, a place Xolile had not visited in a long time because she worked in a city five hours away and there was never ‘enough time’ to drive home. Out of the blue, she had called her parents and announced that she was coming for a weekend visit, and the news was met with cautious joy, as though they knew something was up. Now, she had gathered her father, mother, little sister, and younger brother in the lounge because she ‘had an announcement’. The TV was on mute, but the screen was flashing a distracting light that everyone tried to ignore while they waited for her to speak.

Question: Ever felt like you have to keep up a ‘perfect’ image but inside you’re just not feeling it? How would you deal with the pressure Xolile’s facing? Share your own story of dealing with expectations.