Steem4nigeria Accelerator Contest Week 98: The Phase of My Life I Would Never Like to Experience Again

https://www.pexels.com/photo/close-up-of-pregnant-woman-stomach-15

Greeting to all the members of @steem4nigeria and heartfelt thanks for this powerful theme. To share this portion of my life feels like opening old wounds, it’s a chapter I never thought I would revisit. But I know healing comes through sharing, and so here I am, baring my heart.

What I understand by a Tough/Challenging season of Life
A tough or challenging season of life is a time when everything feels heavy : emotionally, physically, and mentally. It's not just about having a bad day. It's a phase when you wake up each morning with tears in your eyes, questions in your heart, and a burden on your shoulders. It's when the people you expect to be there for you disappear, and you’re left alone to face storms that threaten your peace, health, and even your sanity. During such times, every step feels like a battle, every breath like a struggle, and hope seems so far away. But despite the pain, these seasons often shape us, teaching us lessons we could never learn in comfort.
“From my experience, I see a tough season as more than a bad day, it’s the kind of pain that leaves invisible scars…”

A Phase That Shattered My Soul

I was young, hopeful, and full of love. I believed I had found someone who would cherish me forever. But that love crumbled into dust. I became pregnant, thinking our future had finally arrived. Instead, he vanished, leaving me in shame, pain, and confusion.

I carried my sweet baby boy for nine long months through agonizing pain, stark hunger, deep shame, and utter sorrow while no one seemed to care. My own family abandoned me. It felt like I was alone in the world.

https://www.pexels.com/photo/a-yawning-baby-3600870

Then came the day I delivered him. In that moment, I saw him: strong, full of life, crying and I whispered to myself, I made it. My heart dared to hope.

But just ten minutes later… he slipped away. Lifelessness stole him from me. I watched his breath stop. My world tore apart. After enduring so much, I thought he would be my beacon of hope. Maybe he saw how cruel this world could be… and chose not to stay.

I still remember the echo in my heart when his first cry turned to silence. The painful question haunted me: Why him? Why me? After all that I endured, he should have been my joy.

That phase nearly destroyed me, physically drained, emotionally bankrupt, spiritually shattered. No amount of money, no matter how large, could ever convince me to revisit that nightmarish chapter. My healing, sanity, and peace are priceless.

From that painful experience, I gathered these hard-earned lessons:
Happiness must be rooted within you don’t depend on someone else.
Trust carefully; not everyone deserves a space in your heart.
Even in our deepest sorrow, God doesn’t abandon us. He sends small miracles through people who show kindness.

Now, I’m still healing. I’m rebuilding. Though scars remain, they tell a story of resilience and survival .

How I Managed to Scale Through That Phase

I survived by grace, not strength. I cried until I had no tears left, but deep down, something in me refused to give up. I opened up to my pastor, and through his help and prayers, I found a tiny light in the darkness. God used him to remind me that I wasn’t truly alone.
I also began to write, pouring my pain into words helped me heal. Slowly, I started breathing again. It wasn’t easy, but I scaled through with faith, silence, and small steps. Each day, I chose to survive and that was enough.

If I’m Offered a Million Dollars I will reject it and curse the offer

If I’m offered a million dollars to go through that ugly phase again, I’ll say no without hesitation. That experience didn’t just hurt, it broke me, silently and deeply. I lost more than a child; I lost pieces of myself I may never fully recover. No amount of money can replace my peace, my strength, or the joy I buried with my baby. Some pains are too sacred, too heavy, to relive for any price.

To anyone reading this who is battling a storm: you are not alone. Cry if you need to, but don’t surrender. Healing comes slowly, but surely.
Thank you for being brave enough to read this. Your empathy and support are healing in their own way.
I invite my wonderful friends to join
@ukpono @mercybliss @jemilatbuhari