Mpoomy Ledwaba is a dynamic young woman with an incredible reach who has built her brand up as the go-to influencer for all things lifestyle and wellness and hosts one of South Africa’s most successful podcasts, Wisdom and Wellness.(https://www.youtube.com/@MpoomyLedwaba)
She’s a digital entrepreneur and speaker; her company Wisdom & Wellness was created to inspire, equip and encourage people to live purposeful, prosperous and holistic lives. Over the years she has built a community of young people who are not ashamed to live out their values and make an impact in the world. She is the proud host of Speak Life September, a month-long wellness challenge and master class, as well as the annual Wisdom & Wellness Gal Pal gathering called the Unlimited Fest conference call.
This is an extract of her newly released book How Did We Get Here? A Girl’s Guide to Finding Herself:
You may not know about the seven-year itch until you’re in it … google it and you’ll see what I mean. What I’m not sure of is whether it’s during year six going on seven or during year seven going on eight. But what I can tell you is that it is absolute hell.
As I’ve always shared, I don’t believe in labelling a year a “good” one or a “bad” one. I always ride the wave, take the lessons, enjoy the good times and maintain faith or an optimistic attitude during the bad. I believe you can’t control what happens to you ‒ all you can control is how you respond to it. Then 2023 happened. Experiencing stress in your career and other life matters is bad enough, but if not seeing eye to eye with your spouse and trying to argue in whispers so as not to upset the children is added, then it is much worse. I don’t know exactly when the bickering started, but I would choose it over the silent treatment and one word answers.
We were both focused on big projects: I was working on my first Unlimited Fest, Brenden was producing one of the biggest albums to come out that year. We fully backed each other up, as we always do, and in theory understood the necessary sacrifices. After having survived the car accident and losing my car, holding a successful festival with over 1 000 attendees and releasing two successful albums, we needed to slow down and spend quality time together. And we did. That’s what Bali was about. We felt connected to each other again; we found a new rhythm, a new attraction and an excitement to grow closer and nurture our family. But as soon as we landed in South Africa and stepped into our waterlogged home, things began to slip away. Everything we had fought through and worked through was destroyed.
Fresh from Bali, our attitude was that we would conquer this problem together. Then Monday came, and on Mondays the over achiever in me always kicks in. In a crisis, I go into super-fixer mode. My husband, on the other hand, sleeps his feelings away. During hard times we both withdraw; we just do it differently.
I look for something to keep me busy ‒ a new problem to solve, a new box to tick, a mission to prove how strong I am at whatever cost. Brenden goes to bed.
While he felt his feelings and pain in real time, I tried to cover mine with optimism and gratitude. And the wedge started growing. Every day was war and a painful reminder that we had to put our new plans on hold.
To dry the house out, we had to keep the windows open. We slept in one room, children and all, and had one room to cook in. As the temperature dropped each night, our hearts towards each other grew colder; we were now on different teams. My resentment increased as I felt that I was the only one fixing the mess, while Brenden napped or complained. Brenden grew angrier at the fact that I was trying to cover the trauma and pain we had just experienced with toxic positivity.
We were right to express ourselves in the ways we know how to, and wrong to judge the other.
Not only was our physical home destroyed, but it felt as though the foundation of our marriage was cracking. One day I woke up and asked myself if I had made a mistake. I even texted my mother: “I don’t think I should be married.” It was the Easter weekend, and we had committed to being back to church full-time after a sabbatical during lockdown. Our church had a conference that weekend and we were excited! The morning of Good Friday was the first time I finally cracked and acknowledged the severity of what had happened to our home. I called my sister-in-law, packed our bags and drove there. She and her husband got us to sit down and talk ‒ well, more venting than talking, but at least we laughed. This was one of the easier days of 2023.
If I had to provide the details of every fight, you would probably be shocked at the eventual outcome. We exchanged words that should never have left our mouths. We threw tantrums and argued in front of the children. We got to a point where each of us chose ourselves and our conversations were reduced to who would drop off the kids and who would buy bread. I was watching my marriage slip away, and felt powerless to stop it. Brenden started searching for flats in the area we live in because we thought he should move out but it made sense for him to stay close to the children and work. It was then that I started to think that this was just a “season” of marriage.
Some seasons are filled with excitement, and some are kept going by the responsibilities of raising children and paying bills. We had a podcast to do, and although Brenden committed to train a new team to produce it, we knew that that would be going against what God had instructed us if he quit. So, we kept the podcast going, and it kept us together.
Having booked our family holiday at the beginning of the year, as usual, we decided not to cancel our upcoming trip to Dubai. But when we left we were not talking again, except if it was about the kids. Until one night in the hotel, we found ourselves willing to put our egos aside.
Me: “I think we should get a divorce.”
Brenden: “I agree.”
Me: “Can we commit to enjoying this holiday with the kids, and then focus on the next steps when we get home?”
Brenden: “I’m in.”
And that’s how we got our marriage back: we gave it up. When the idea of giving it up became real, we realised that was not what we wanted. In Dubai we got a clear picture of where we were and what we did want. And we’ve always wanted each other. From the age of 20 we’ve always had each other, carried each other, protected each other, hurt each other but ultimately forgiven each other. We have won together and lost together. We had given our everything to each other and to our family, and this was certainly not the end. I wish I could say, there was a magic wand that made everything good again, but we simply chose to work it out. It was lots of individual therapy and couples’ therapy again, more sex and better conflict management.
There are days I wake up filled with gratitude and a sense of my marriage being God’s plan. And there are days I wake up in hell. But we chose to stick out the seven-year itch, and we are still standing.
How Did We Get Here? A Girl’s Guide to Finding Herself is published by Jonathan Ball Publishers and is also available as an ebook and audiobook. The recommended retail price is R290.