The hole relationships leave

Just the way things are

On my return from South Africa in early September, two things were clear. I did not worry about the state of my home, and something I had left on the counter intended for the freezer was still there, growing mould and displaying every sign of culture that should not be inhaled.

This was because, for the first time in about eight years, I did not have a house sitter, a friend with unrestricted access to my apartment at any time for his convenience rather than mine.

While I always appreciated his presence, he had a peculiar habit of rearranging the place to such an extent that, on my return from holidays, I could scarcely recognise my own home.

An untenable situation

The final straw was when I returned from sick leave in December, after being away for seven weeks. Following a 14-hour journey, I had to run a vacuum around my home before I could sit down and catch my breath. Meanwhile, he was there packing a bag, even though he knew I was returning that day.

It was never required of him, but he was always helpful around the house: doing basic cleaning, taking out rubbish, or managing recycling. Besides, as people living away from close family, seeing each other often meant anyone could ask the other about their well-being, knowing they had current information.

However, I had had enough. I asked for the keys to my place, and since then, it seemed the true bond between us was access to my apartment rather than a nearly decade-long friendship. Even when I email to ask after his well-being, he rarely responds; no one truly knows the other anymore. We have entered a state of indifference bordering on obsolescence.

The hole relationships leave

Looking at the state of my living room this morning, I felt a hole that had widened into a chasm after my friend's withdrawal. I only took the keys from him; I did not end our friendship.

Yet, how anyone perceives the other in any relationship can be an inscrutable mental process, revealed only when circumstances push us to confront who we really are.

All relationships introduce something into our lives: the good, the bad, the ugly, or the simply nonchalant. When the relationships fade, we lose something, regardless of its size. Our friends are warts and all; much is tolerated, forgiven, and given leeway until limits are crossed and irreconcilable differences emerge.

Then, for me, it is time to get my act together and look after myself better, for my health, my mind, my relationships, my apartment, my environment, and every other aspect that fosters a sense of contentment and fulfilment. C’est la vie.

Thought Picnic: The stereotype of a hypersexual black man persists

Just trying to help

The first thing that came to mind was whether I had just missed an Emmett Till moment, though the comparison is a bit too severe; England has never been the American South of the 1950s, but some stereotypes are so ingrained that people act on them before reality and modernity can adjust their thinking.

I was walking home when I saw two ladies seemingly in a rush, going in one direction and then the opposite, wondering aloud if they were headed the right way. As I overheard them, and being quite familiar with the area, I thought I could help, so I inquired about which direction they wanted to go.

As I looked back, a man approached me and asked what I was looking at. His aggression was met with equal disdain. "What is your problem?" I retorted. He claimed that I was the problem, to which I suggested he should go home and not look for trouble because I had no time for crazy people.

The stereotypes betraying us

He blurted out, “That’s my wife you are looking at.” A strapping (I guess in the dark, appearances can be deceptive) black man, and I am hardly that, going after and ogling a white woman with rampant sexual desire?

Maybe if I could whistle, but the ladies did not even deserve an anachronistic catcall, but let’s not disparage the innocent. It did look like an Emmett Till moment, as a white man had just suggested I had disrespected his wife by looking lustfully at her.

Where did this kind of thinking emerge from, and how could it even be expressed so strongly in Manchester of 2025? The situation was about to escalate totally out of control if I did not have a response or chose to walk away, which was the wise choice.

Easing the built-up tension

I replied, “I am a gay man, I am not interested in your wife; I was only asking if I could help.” He showed character; immediately he offered a profuse apology, saying he was very sorry for making a wrong assumption. His wife joined him, and they both pleaded for being unnecessarily defensive; they asked for my name and introduced themselves.

We shook hands as they explained they were out looking for their friend, who they thought was lost. They were a bit distressed about it and did not know what to do. I gave them some encouragement and wished them well as we parted ways. I was just a block away from home.

The present is the past

On reflection, I thought about how suspicion and the exchange of coarse words could have led to a fracas and needlessly so. How we are informed by the stereotypes of others until we seek to learn more about their story out of interest and engagement rather than an initial dislike based on falsehoods.

How in the UK, we are fortunate that even the irrational is contained in the exchange of words before it becomes physical, hurtful, and sometimes fatal.

Then, the basic willingness to hear the other out and listen can diffuse the most tense (as I use British rather than American English, "most tense" is the most appropriate superlative for tense, rather than "tensest" in American English) situations; someone had to be ready to play the pipes of peace before we come within the sound of the drums of war.

It was both an unsettling and teachable moment. We might have come a long way, but that basic animal instinct is always ready to impose itself on our unsteady coexistence.

The many stations of help

I cannot help you

This had me confused as to what the role of a peer mentor was, which I thought was one of experience brought to bear by example and narrative other than prescription or instruction concerning the issues of life.

Whilst many might have a particular goal or aim for seeking out a mentor, in general, it would seem the better outcome is in shadowing and understudying with ample opportunity for engagement, discussion, explanation, or insight as to why things were better viewed differently.

Without stating it, the feedback was he got on well as an individual with the vicissitudes of life, so why was I self-indulgent and not pulling my weight? I think I have heard and felt that ‘helpful’ criticism before. Much I felt there was something that could be offered, I was ready to walk away when the option of another meeting was offered.

I acquiesced, but the said meeting was postponed by him and we agreed to a rescheduling, just as I had the unction coming out of the shower that I saw no mileage in our interactions. I am of the inkling; that it is for the best.

I think we can help

It was not easy to get to this point. After so articulately sharing some very intimate elements of myself it might seem I was on the one hand relatively well-adjusted and on the other hand seeking professional trauma intervention.

Things I had never given voice to with coherence I never preplanned and the utterance I never predetermined; came out of my mouth to make the case I could not have imagined.

I could only conclude that flesh and blood had not revealed this nor inspired me, I had every help from the Spirit to break through the hurdles that were put before me.

I am in the queue, and there is a prospect of finding the form of words that would flesh out the story I believe needs to be told for the possible purpose of benefiting others.

I want to help you

For the third time in the same week upon a referral from my consultant, I was back on the 20-minute walk to this support organisation. This time on the issues pertaining to means and resources.

Once again, concerns, situations, and circumstances were shared for analysis and played before me with the plight of the Israelites in Egypt, under the cosh of slavery and the duress of producing better bricks but with not enough straw. Not enough of it to meet the range of things that you never thought about once before.

I am walking into a place of more than enough, that is in my heart and in my mouth. It is however necessary to understand for context where you are leaving for a new place, so the significance of the journey can be fully appreciated.

Let me have this other information, he said, and I will get this other stuff for you.

Help for you

It takes quite a change in perspective to get to where you realise you need help, then comes where you go to get that help, after which you have to work through how to ask for help. Your request is then assessed to determine if you are eligible for the help, and to what extent the help can be given depending on the availability of help and helpers.

There is only so much people can do because their abilities and resources are finite, limited, and scarce. The most incredible help in any situation can only come from above, for that is where you get the strength to go through the storms of life and find the imagination to dream the impossible and bring that into your present reality.

Reluctance, tentativeness, and willingness become experiences of the responses we get and we should not be discouraged if we encounter more of the former before we get to some of the latter.

Of that, I have many testimonies and for that, I am grateful that I will yet give even better testimonies of goodness, blessings, faithfulness, and joy.

Blog - He shall preserve my soul, even forevermore