Reflections from an Unkind January

This January, unlike every other January I’ve known, chose to be different.

It was a month like no other—hectic, stressful, and almost like a weapon fashioned against my resolutions and goals for the new year.

After an almost two-week Christmas break, I resumed the new month already exhausted, which felt ironic for a “fresh start” month. The one thing that gave me some comfort was knowing I had already booked a week’s leave for the first week of February. Anyway, here’s a review for the curious ones, the ones who care, and the ones still reading.

What Went Well This Month?

One of the major highlights was our staff retreat. It was a time for us to come together as a team to review what we achieved in the past year and align on plans for the new one. During the retreat, I was honoured with two awards: Excellence in Innovation and Most Punctual Staff of the Year. I’m genuinely grateful for the recognition; it reminded me that even in overwhelming seasons, consistency still counts.

On a more personal note, January forced me to reassess certain habits and assumptions I’ve carried for a long time, especially around relationships and communication. While uncomfortable, that awareness in itself is progress.

What Didn’t Go So Well This Month?

I broke my glasses this month, which turned out to be a much bigger problem than I anticipated. I spent most of January without them, which meant I couldn’t read as much as I wanted and couldn’t finish a single book. Instead, I resorted to watching far more television than I would normally allow myself.

I got replacement sunshades to reduce the amount of light entering my eyes, but working on my laptop and watching TV with shades on was an experience I never want to relive. It felt so unnatural–like seeing things in inverse. Moreover, I’ve worn glasses consistently for over five years and had never been without them for more than a few hours. Two weeks without them was brutal and humbling.

This period also reiterated just how ineffective Nigeria’s healthcare system and management plans can be. My HMO and primary healthcare provider seemed determined to play badminton with my head, and the experience left me deeply frustrated and disappointed.

On the emotional front, love was… an experience. A mix of hope, tension, and self-confrontation. It wasn’t all terrible, but it certainly wasn’t easy.

What Did I Learn?

First, I now value my glasses far more than I ever did. I’ve since gotten two replacement pairs in addition to my primary one, my own insurance against HMO inconvenience.

More importantly, January taught me something uncomfortable about how I approach love. I am very much an “endgame” person. I focus on the destination, not the journey. I tell myself I enjoy the little moments, but reviewing my last romantic probation—aka the talking stage—revealed otherwise.

I realised I struggle to fully absorb and enjoy the process—the uncertainty, the discovery, the thrill of getting to know someone. Instead, I fixate on the outcome, which can come across as pressure or inauthenticity to the other person, even when my intentions are genuine.

When you want something badly enough, you can start trying to will it into existence. That desire can border on manipulation—not of the other person, but of yourself. You twist and contort to fit what you think they want, and in the process, you risk losing yourself and may present as desperate or unreal. Hearing “no” was painful, but it forced me to introspect and confront this pattern.

Sometimes, honey isn’t only in Canaan. Sometimes, it’s in the journey itself.

Now, I’m left with a million-dollar question I’m sitting with: when you meet someone you truly want, how do you avoid falling into this cycle? Does the chase not require a degree of assertiveness, clarity, and even narrow-mindedness?

Finally, I also learnt that while communication is key, style matters just as much. As a communication expert, this is something I should know—and do well enough—in my day-to-day and business life: certain places and people demand different communication approaches, in both language and style. But when it comes to romantic interests, I’m naturally very formal in how I communicate. I’ve come to realise that this can be misinterpreted, making me seem rigid or unapproachable, despite my awareness and good intentions.

I’m learning to soften my delivery, but not by abandoning proper grammar or clarity, or by adopting shorthand, but by being more adaptable. Maybe writing in pidgin when appropriate, for instance, makes me more relatable and human. Lol. It’s not a permanent switch, just a necessary adjustment.

To conclude, January felt like something to endure rather than enjoy.

Anyway, it didn’t break me, but it definitely bent me far enough to teach me a few things. And for that, I’m grateful.