As we navigate through the ups and downs of life, we all face challenges that can impact our mental and emotional well-being. From dealing with stress and anxiety to coping with grief and loss, our mental health is constantly being tested. In the midst of these struggles, one thing that can make a tremendous difference is speaking from the heart.

At its core, speaking from the heart means expressing ourselves in an authentic, heartfelt manner. It involves tapping into our deepest emotions and values and communicating them with clarity and conviction. When we speak from the heart, we not only connect with others on a deeper level, but we also connect with ourselves, gaining a greater understanding of our own thoughts and feelings.

In the context of mental health and personal growth, speaking from the heart can be a powerful tool for self-expression and healing. For example, if you’re struggling with anxiety or depression, speaking openly and honestly about your feelings with a trusted friend or mental health professional can help you gain insight into your own emotions and find effective coping strategies.


Expressing ourselves authentically can also be a key component of building and maintaining meaningful relationships. When we share our vulnerabilities, we create a space for others to do the same. This can foster deeper, more authentic connections with        others, which can help us feel less alone and                                                                          isolated in our struggles.

However, speaking from the heart can be challenging, particularly if we’re not used to expressing ourselves in this way. It can feel vulnerable and uncomfortable to share our innermost thoughts and feelings with others. That’s why it’s important to practice self-care and self-compassion and to seek support from trusted friends or mental health professionals if we need it.

Here are some tips for speaking from the heart:
1.  Take time to reflect on your emotions and values. Before you can speak from the heart, you need to have a clear understanding of what’s important to you and what you’re feeling. Spend some time journaling or meditating to gain a deeper understanding of your own emotions and values.

2.  Find a trusted listener. Speaking from the heart can be challenging, especially if you’re not used to expressing yourself in this way. Find someone you trust, such as a close friend or mental health professional, to share your thoughts and feelings with.

3. Practice active listening. Listening is just as important as speaking when it comes to speaking from the heart. When someone else is speaking, make sure to give them your full attention and actively listen to what they’re saying.

4. Be honest and authentic. Authenticity is key when it comes to speaking from the heart. Don’t try to sugarcoat your feelings or hide your true self. Speak your truth, even if it’s difficult.

5. Practice self-care and self-compassion. Speaking from the heart can be emotionally taxing, so it’s important to take care of yourself. Make sure to practice self-care, such as getting enough sleep, eating a healthy diet, and engaging in activities that bring you joy. And don’t forget to be kind and compassionate to yourself, especially if speaking from the heart brings up difficult emotions.

In conclusion, speaking from the heart is a powerful tool for promoting mental health and personal growth. By tapping into our deepest emotions and values, and communicating them authentically, we can gain a greater understanding of ourselves and build more meaningful connections with others. If you’re struggling with mental health issues or just looking to deepen your connections with others, consider speaking from the heart as a way to promote healing and growth. Remember, when it comes to speaking from the heart, authenticity is key.

“Your life is a beautiful blank canvas. You have the choice of splashing it with the most gorgeous and spectacular colours by doing what you love.”
― Hiral Nagda

Writing has always been a form of escape for me over the years. Without it, I tend to feel suffocated, lost and emotionally heavy. Over the years, my words have given me great solace whenever traumatic life situations posed a threat to my mental state.

When I began this blog, some friends reached out to me. Most of them could not understand why I chose to be vulnerable, open and transparent in a public space. I remember I smiled and told them it was not about me. People needed relatable life solutions and encouragement that they have someone in their corner. With this driving force, the support I got from strangers and people willing to share their stories was overwhelming.

They say you can not pour from an empty cup, thus my long hiatus. I have done the hard work, re-filled my cup, loved on myself and am ready to pour my heart to you. Know more on, FL treatment centers

It feels good to be back!

Yours Truly,
Michelle Middii

As I touched the doorknob to the front door and let myself into the house I was surprised to find the house pitch dark. This was a bit odd because I expected you or your brother here watching football or playing PlayStation which was your Sunday ritual. I was a bit on edge because of the quarrel we had earlier during the day. You kept on pestering me with calls while I was in church, only for you to demand that I should go back home later in the evening. You were having the guys over and didn’t want me around because you wanted to spend quality time with them. Rage consumed my heart because this was the fifth time we were having such an argument. You were ashamed of me it all made sense now.

When I got into the bedroom to change my attire to something more comfortable my closet was empty. This was rather strange because as I left in the morning my closet was well arranged. I decided to check your closet and noticed your clothes were still there. A silly thought crossed my mind that you were finally kicking me out and I lowkey prepared to accept it. We had been on a rollercoaster of emotions with each other and I figured this was your way of healing. As the main door opened I stood by the corridor to check who it was. Your brother had just come back from his regular evening walk. He had been staying with us for a couple of days before his classes resumed.


Something felt strange and weird, I just could not point my finger at what was amiss. Earlier that afternoon you had left me ten missed calls and when I called back, you told me not to come home immediately till late in the evening. Infuriated with this forced circumstance, I insisted that I would be home whenever I wanted. You said I wasn’t a good wife and I needed to learn how to respect your authority. But which husband puts his wife away from the house just because he is having his friends over?

But this wasn’t the first time this was happening. The previous weekend I had gone to visit a friend and you forced me to spend the night there. Reason being that your brother was bringing his girlfriend over and he needed space. You called me selfish and self-centred just because I was not comfortable with the fact that someone else would use our matrimonial bed for their own sexual urges. You did not care if you hurt me, all you wanted was to have your way. Why I let you embarrass me so much is still something I have no answer to, because to some extent love is not blind. My so-called wisdom made me ignore all the red flags because, how does someone leave their matrimonial home and the man whom they swore to love for eternity?

Suddenly, I became so angry because the thought of you bringing one of your proteges to our home in my absence sickened me. In my rage, I yelled at your brother coaxing him why he helped you hide my things. At first, he denied having a hand to it but when I mentioned how karma will play out he finally admitted that you brought a woman over. To add more salt to injury he said you spent time with her in our bedroom. My heart broke into two as I struggled to hold on to my composure. The last few days had been emotionally draining because of how distant you became and the miscarriage I endured early that week. I knew you had been unfaithful for a long time now but to do your business here in our home, with your brother present was the highest level of disrespect.

I shamefully searched around the house for my belongings and gathered them to arrange them. You had crossed the line by this action, this was pure madness. What kind of sane human being does this to a woman who takes care of him?. What hurts the most is the mental abuse you inflicted upon me, which made me more depressed than ever. I shut the bedroom door and did what I knew would help, broke down in tears asking God why this would happen to me. I had diligently honoured our vows, the vows you effortlessly managed to turn to empty words. They say during trying times your friends and family will be there to guide you through but my shame never allowed me to open my heart to anyone. I would be the laughing stock and furthermore, on Facebook, The Kilimani mums said I was the problem. I didn’t know how but a solution to get out of this situation had to be cultivated by the end of the. You were my life, you and the demons you brought revolved in my mind.

I silently sat in darkness playing candy crush and waited for you, my lover. My mind tried to phrase workable conversations of how this situation would be handled between us. What baffles me is that even after you had dragged and tarnished my name my stupid heart still beat for you. I should have known you were good for nothing but at that moment all I wanted was to make things right.

Immediately you got into the room you opened my closet, then you looked at me. We looked deep into each other’s eyes, I couldn’t tell if you saw the pain in my eyes but you knew that I knew what transpired.

I would be the laughing stock and furthermore, on Facebook, The Kilimani mums said I was the problem.

As expected we could not have a decent conversation, I lost my cool and didn’t care that your brother was listening in on us. The greatest mistake I did was loving you unconditionally because you never deserved it. You hid my things in the kitchen drawers and in the balcony as though I was a common squatter in our own apartment. Even as I expressed my frustration I could tell how irritated you were, none of this mattered to you. I was ruining your perfect day, the day that your mistress came to your house and you passionately made love to her on our matrimonial bed, how dare you?. You showed no remorse even after I mentioned I had a miscarriage, I stood like a clown before your eyes.

“Do you love her?” I asked with tears in my eyes. You looked at me for a moment then looked at the floor completely avoiding my gaze. My fears were confirmed when you said you loved us both but her more because she was working and had ambition while I was just a mere housewife. So all the online jobs that managed to place food on the table and even do some slight shopping were nothing to you. You looked down on all my efforts. Every single shilling I got for my online writing was directed mainly to the house, not once did I use that money on myself. Now all of a sudden you love Angela who has no idea how your morning breath smells like, how you get when you are sick, how you behave when you are frustrated. Angela who you had dated for three months was enough to shake the core of our marriage.

You pretended to get a call from your best friend who you told you will be going for a sleepover at his place. You played your cards wrongly because this trick was not new to me, you had done it severally and tonight was the night all your bad behaviours would come to an end. I might have seemed a little bit delusional but all I wanted was to prevent my husband from going to another woman’s house for the night.

Walking towards our bedroom door, I locked the door and placed the key in my brassiere. You threatened to take the key forcefully from me and I warned you not to touch me because I would create a scene. A lot of investments had been made into this union and I wouldn’t allow another woman to reap where I had sowed.

At around midnight I opened the door and retired to bed. You immediately grabbed your bag pack, packed a few items, and left. My efforts to keep you in the house failed miserably and this was enough evidence that I was fighting a lost battle, the stakes were not in my favour anymore. After twenty minutes you came back home and slept beside me. You held me, kissed me, and forced yourself on me as you constantly told me how sorry you were.

The conversation around rape is one that has often received a lot of backlashes, especially with certain factions of the society aiming to normalize it. I pride myself in being of the school of thought that there exists no such thing, based solely on the premise that as long as there isn’t consent given to the other party to the act, then that act constitutes rape, period.

Over time we have witnessed masses, especially with the development of technology in the media realm trying to downplay this scenario, often laying blame on the lady, claiming that she was the one who seduced the perpetrator, luring Him/Her into committing the heinous act, or worse yet claiming that she is a liar. Enough with the sugarcoating, let us call a spade a spade. It is high time society learned to empathize with victims rather than taking an offensive stance with regards to this issue. There is so much wisdom in biting one’s tongue.

Given a chance to meet twenty-two-year-old me, I would embrace her and tell her it wasn’t her fault. Pick her from the ground, dust her up and urge her to fight for her rights by reporting her perpetrator to the authorities. Advice her to block all the negative voices that made her feel like she deserved the misfortune because it was these very voices that taunted her in her sleep, causing nightmares accompanied by heavy sweating and screams. Sadly this scar will follow me for the rest of my life, and I will always have a certain fear associated with men.

As I reflect on the events of that day, my heart shudders at how naive and gullible I must have been. Mama had always warned me to stay woke of men who seemed too nice because they were constantly hunting for broken girls, assuring them of love and protection. As an adolescent, my hormones dictated most of my actions instead of my brain. Having a boyfriend who I could drool over and talk about with my mates was considered a rite of passage. For a long time, some part of me never blamed him for the atrocity he committed because everyone I sought comfort from found fault in me


The feeling must have been mutual because he sheepishly smiled at me making me fidget across the lobby to my work station.

Straight off from culinary school I landed an internship at one of the most prominent hotels here in Nairobi. Although negative rumours had gone round about how women were treated in this establishment, it didn’t occur to me that I would be one of these women who had heart-wrenching stories. On the day I met him a tingly feeling settled in my tummy which was brought about by the collision of our eyes.

The feeling must have been mutual because he sheepishly smiled at me making me fidget across the lobby to my workstation. From his uniform, I could tell that he wasn’t an ordinary kitchen staff but was from the housekeeping department.


My mind didn’t pick a signal that something might go wrong when he asked me to spend more time with him at his place. My foolish heart anticipated for this moment where we would be alone to our own words and thoughts without the glare of the outside world. The thought of our lips joining together or our hands intertwined for the first time caused a deep wave of ecstasy in me.

When we got to his house the first thing he did was lock the door and slid the keys into his pockets. He then carefully drew all the curtains in the room and turned on the stereo, some classic RnB burst out the speakers. He carefully poured me a glass of wine which got me a bit tipsy and comfortable with the atmosphere he created.

I remember becoming extra chatty than normal, giggling at every single thing he said. After a while, he then pulled me closer to him and planted a soft kiss on my lips. This being my first kiss, I shied off and shifted my gaze away from him.

With my face in his hands, his lips on my lips he gave me a deep kiss which was more intimate than the first one. He slowly began caressing my body which made me so hot and caused an erection for him. Everything happened so fast and in no time he didn’t have his trousers or boxers on which made me freet. I zapped myself back to reality and asked him to stop because I was on my period. With a wave of anger, he held my neck and choked me as he violently kissed me. When I attempted to scream he planted heavy blows on my mouth and his masculinity completely subdued me. The fact that I was on my period did not stop him because he constantly moaned and groaned in ecstasy.

My dignity was tainted making shame and guilt be the only emotions that radiated from my heart. With no one to talk to my thoughts became my prison, multiple anxiety attacks which caused mental paralysis. My healing was gradual because I chose to embrace my pain, love myself, and accept whatever happened.

No woman deserves to be humiliated and victimized because of rape. You will rise again despite the immense pain that will break you down and threaten your whole sanity. You will have social anxiety which will make you whimper whenever any form of physical touch is done. There will be days when you will cry your paper heart out till you feel lifeless. Some may not understand your emotional outburst, or may even judge your isolation. Your healing process might take longer than usual but you will heal.