Oral East Africa>A journey through Florence, the City and Me At the hut of the story

I recently visited the city of Florence, the city that gave me my name, and quickly realized am called different.

For all the variations of my name, I have never had to use the version I learned here, how Italians say it, Firenze. It made me realize how many versions of my name and myself, I have bundled into the years of my life unconsciously.

Megan Roxanne in her book ‘How to stop breaking your own heart’ wrote that “Returning home to ‘ourselves’ is an art. It’s a process that requires us all to recall the parts of ourselves that we have buried, rediscovering the value we hold outside of the things that caused us to stray”

“I have come back to Florence” I whispered to myself in joyful wonder. This trip was a symbol of this milestone for me.

Florence is beautiful, I am beautiful. I felt connected to this ancient Italian city which in turn returned only kindness, soulful plates of pasta and pizza and the most sumptuous gelato. The Florentines were affable people, the weather was perfect for walks that revealed mysteries and marvels of its history.

Finding myself

I felt renewed by the experience and quite understood why Elizabeth Gilbert ate in Italy in her ‘eat, pray, love’ journey of self-discovery. Here, you could rediscover yourself, as I did.

This was not just one of those work trips, I have to take ever so often, it had helped me illumine my life and process the journey of coming to know my authentic self.

Like many of you I was born into childhood innocence and beauty. But, as my eyes opened and my ears listened, I began to internalize what the world said or showed me was or was not possible for me; who I was or was not.

The result of this was a competitive, overworking, overachieving, resentful, tired, angry, powerful woman who lost her own voice, and truth not even sure who I was anymore.

In 2018, just as I turned 40, I was diagnosed with chronic fatigue syndrome. You can call it burn out. I was empty, depleted, tired and in pain in every way. Of course, on the outside I kept on with the façade until I could not.

Getting off the treadmill

I was so tired a watch on my wrist felt like a yoke. Dressing up felt like a lie. So, I gave away most of my belongings and cut my hair in an attempt to make light what felt like a huge load on my back.

I then realized fast enough that to survive, I had to stop. Stop I did. For months, I sat in silence wondering how I got here. Why I was so sad and unfulfilled, why all the success and everything I had acquired had no meaning to me in that time.

Then, I got to work, with help of course from doctors who helped treat the physical, my therapist Faith who helped with all the mental work, the various books that helped satisfy my curiosity, my friends and family who patiently watched various versions of me unfold from the long moments of alone time and silence that even now continue to bring much needed clarity.

Five years of being intentional about addressing fatigue led me back to Florence; back to me. Here are three of the many things I have learned so far.

Life lessons

Change is costly; in this particular journey, and in my leadership reality now, I know that for change to happen we must accept to lose something, to gain what is needed for the desired change. This will often lead to moments of mini heartbreaks, however, it’s the price we must pay. I lost opportunities and relationships in this journey, and it hurt. I also gained a lot. I even gained back what I previously lost, only this time- better.

Putting myself first is kindness to the world; You must have heard people say “you can’t give from an empty cup’ it’s true. Previously I was lost whenever I heard these words, ‘put yourself first’ or ‘practice self-love’. I remember once asking someone to tell me practically what it was, I needed to do, and they told me to go to a spa. I did, and, while a massage is glorious, it’s not the antidote for self-love.

My list has things like, communicate my boundaries even when scared, say No, even when I feel guilty, allow only that which fills me even if it means I sit alone, and lastly I am not doing alternatives, for I am meant for the best.

Becoming Florentine

Among others. I find that, I am a better human, an affable parent, daughter, friend, employee, because I treat myself highly, I do the same for others too.

Healing is a slow process, trust it; Often, I got impatient and frustrated when parts of me did not show up perfectly for the opportunities I felt I was missing out on at the time. I had to accept that it took years for me to get to the breakdown. Time will be needed to mend what was broken. ‘Trust the process’

As I begin my new journey of self-improvement to enhance my leadership and communication skills—I am excited to introduce you to Florence! Or as my friends and family jest: Florence 2.0.

The Writer is the Co-Executive Director, the Global Network of People Living with HIV (GNP+).