Being “inspirational” is a thing these days – did you know? I mean, if you want to stay relevant and top-of-mind, that is. We stan a relevant queen – mos. And a “relevant queen” is an inspiring queen. Mos.

I mean, let’s be honest, more than anything, people are scouring the interwebs looking for other people to emulate. Take me for example. If you are aspiring to be a coffee-drinking hermit that binges Netflix while glaring at your phone because someone dares to actually call you instead of texting, then you’ve visited the right blog. Welcome kindred heart.

Anyways, back to the point.

I was sitting here, proudly peeping at my nail growth and silently saying a prayer of gratitude to God for sending Sonia my “nail lady”, when I realised that I had actually been inspired to get my nails done after admiring an influencers nails on The Gram. Prior to that, I thought that I was above getting my nails done. You know? I thought that my natural nails were a lot more superior when compared to the acrylic/gel nails of others. (Yes, I had nail prejudice. I’m not proud of it.) Anyways a few trips to Sonia later and I have never seen such growth in my nails, like, ever! And all of this thanks to a moment of inspo from The Gram.

It made me realise that just about anyone can inspire, well, just about anyone else. You don’t have to sell lip kits to leave your mark on this world, sweetie. (Btw you’re doing great!)

By simply being your inspiring self and by boldly sharing your truth you could be inspiring someone to pursue that job change, or that relationship shift. And sure, I’ve mainly been inspired to buy quality make up and to dress better (apparently skinny jeans are not cool anymore – agree to disagree) but I’ve also totes been inspired in a bunch of other ways that has nothing to do with aesthetics. My influencer crushes are motivational and really deep (like, on a spiritual level, not on a “I drink Kombucha and eat Kale” level) and I learn a lot from them.

Anyways, because I’m like, SUCH a nice person and all, I thought to jot down tips on how to be inspirational.

I’m no pro when it comes to the topic of “how to be inspirational”. So these tips are based on what inspires me. These are the qualities that I’ve found in the people that I admire the most, and they are genuinely amazing human beings, so I feel like they must be doing something right. Right? Riiiiiiiiiight. Here we go:

5 tips on how to be inspirational (a study, based on the queens who inspire me)

1. I am inspired by people who have a positive outlook on life. I’m all about taking da lemons and making da lemon meringue pie and then eating da lemon meringue pie. I think it’s pretty darn amazing to find the good in every situation. It’s also very Biblical, because God says that He is able to turn any bad situation around for your good. With that said, I draw a lot of inspiration from people who intentionally choose joy instead of bitterness/anger. Those are my peeps and the people I stan on the Gram.

2. I am inspired by those absolute queens who are able to be stellar moms and wives and business women all while maintaining their own personal upkeep. Self love is inspiring, yo. As moms, we often forget to look after ourselves. Heck, I can’t even buy myself a pair of shoes without the nagging feeling that I should rather spend the money on something for the kids. So I totally appreciate those unicorn mums who can do it all WHILE looking after themselves too. Continue to inspire us, sis. It’s rough outchere. *flashes grey hair for emphasis*

3. I am SO inspired by the mum influencers who keep it real. These days, social media is rife with people who like the same things and do things the same way. Heck, they even look like each other (seriously, how does everyone have perfect beachy waves, teeeach meeee *whiny voice*). And that’s cool, if that’s your vibe. But I sometimes feel pressured to do things the exact same way, so as to not be deemed irrelevant or not “with it”. Ya know? And THAT is why I so admire the brave hearts who step outside the box and go against the grain. It inspires me to do that too.

4. I am inspired by the ones who are kicking butt in their respective careers/fields of interest. I mean, it is no small feat trying to make your mark in a male dominated world. And even more so if you are trying to pursue a carreer/second income as am influencer/blogger. I mean, tis a pretty saturated arena, these days. Some of the more inspirational women, to me, are the ones who don’t back down and grind hard to make a success of themselves. Does it make me feel like a lazy slob? Yes. But do I choose to lay in bed and eat chocolate instead of working hard to make my own dreams a reality? Also yes. #workinprogress

5. Kindness inspires me. Some of my favorite influencers are so super kind, friendly and helpful, I can’t help but want to emulate that. I mean, it’s lekker to be sassy (she says while wiping the sass from her face) but when you’re salty and mean all the time, it kinda gives me the feels that you aren’t the type of person that I’d hang with in real life. And I get that we can get super aggressive when we are passionate about a cause… but it shouldn’t be at the expense of someone else. In my most humblest opinion.

Anyways, those are my 5 tips on how to be inspirational (based on a true story) (the true story is my actual life). I hope that this leaves you inspired to think up other inspiring tips that inspire you to be inspirational and inspiring! Drop your comments below and share them with us!

My childhood years were pretty boring and uneventful. I grew up in a two bedroomed home, in (what some would call) the “hood” of Port Elizabeth. My neighbors, and childhood friends, were Afrikaans speaking and my sister and I (both very much of the English speaking variant of brown people) kinda fumbled our way through communicating with them but, somehow, we all made it work, unperturbed.

Our summer holidays were the best. We woke up extra early to a quick breakfast of jam sandwiches and hot tea, and hastily dressed ourselves in arb short and t-shirt combos, running our fingers through our long hair until we were presentable enough to leave the house (according to my granny’s standards).

We almost always exited via the kitchen door and ran straight across to my bestie’s house, climbing over broken fencing to get into her backyard (pretty sure this would be called trespassing now).

Those days were blissfully filled with innocent childhood games, all renamed and reinvented by us. Our favorites were ‘rope-rope’ (or ‘tou-tou’ in Afrikaans), ‘school-school’, ‘klip-klip’ and ‘ball-ball’ aka ‘skop skaloolie’ (See the trend? The games are so nice, we named it twice lol).

Being the eldest, I was the unannounced leader of our group which means I was in charge of arranging the talent shows and modelling competitions (another favorite). We knew how to entertain ourselves and were generally good kids, besides for the occasional “let’s pretend to smoke cigarettes behind the tree in your yard” moments. (Another post for another day)

One particular year, my 12-year old brain had concocted an extra special ‘grand extravaganza’ show that we would “rehearse” during that school holiday break. I couldn’t wait to get started!

A few days into the holiday, we sit on our spot on the boundary wall in the front of our house, chatting about our juvenile plans while watching the boys play a particularly boring game of cricket in the road. (The game had been “particularly boring” because they would cease play every few minutes to move the make-shift cricket stumps to make way for cars that were passing through). We pretend-watched the cricket game but also pretend-didn’t-watch, because boys were still gross to us back then.

There I sit, in all my gangly-legged, bushy pony-tailed, 12-year old glory when suddenly a smile, from across the road, made my heart skip a beat. The bearer of the smile: a teenage boy, probably three or four years my senior, who had been visiting his cousin that holiday.

And while I couldn’t care less (I honestly couldn’t, I mean, I had a show to plan), I found myself caring very much… the unwelcome attention suddenly very much welcomed.

A boy had never smiled at me before. Well, most certainly not like that. What did it mean? And was I meant to do something? I most certainly did NOT smile back! I mean, what would my friends think if I was out here smiling at boys?! Gross!

“Why would he smile at me, in the first place?” I scribbled in my diary. “I mean, was that his way of greeting? Is he trying to be friendly, because he wants to make friends?” Chaos and confusion had ensued and I found myself mulling over the illustrious smile.

The long summer days dragged on, and we continued to plan and rehearse for our grand extravaganza show, but this time around I found myself so self conscious.

For starters, I refused to rehearse our carefully choreographed dance moves in the front yard because I didn’t want “that boy” to see. I couldn’t tell the others though, so I had to devise a quick cover up, to make me not look lame.

Uncharacteristically distracted, I found myself less and less excited about the show. In fact, it felt downright stupid and childish at that point. The innocence of childhood had ended for me.

I had suddenly become more aware of my worth as a woman… wondering if I was pretty enough, mature-sounding enough, interesting enough, cool enough… worrying about the fact that my hair wasn’t straight enough,  my body not developed enough and my clothes not expensive enough.

Suddenly the things that meant absolutely nothing before seemed to be the only things that mattered!

And although the boy isn’t really important (in the grander scheme of my life), now knowing that it was a turning point for me (not a girl, not yet a woman, or something like that, right Britney?), I wish that I totally ignored that smile and held on  to my childhood a teeny tiny bit longer.

Now that I’m a mom of a little girl, who will soon experience her own “first smile” and probably her first heartbreak, I’m more determined than ever to build up her confidence and self-worth.

I try to teach my daughter that her identity is not found in the approval of others and her worth is not something that fluctuates. I mean, that was one of the biggest life lessons that I wish I had learnt at a young age. When you want a boy to like you, it’s so easy to want to change everything about yourself, to impress him. (Oh the stories I can share about my relationship fails and how I totally changed, even the way I ate my eggs, because of the guy that I was dating.)

But hey, we dig these wells so that we can pass the wisdom learnt on  to our kids.

At the end of the day my aim is to make my daughter a lot more mindful about how valuable she is and a lot less generous with how much of her heart she should give away, for a smile.