#BlogLife504 - Can I forgive you?

If you're caucasian I don't expect you to understand what it's like to be nervous in certain places or streets.

To look around and breathe a sign of a relief that there are other faces just like mine scattered around.

I'm still livid that in all but one of the public racist verbal and physical attacks that onlookers never said a damn word.

In the one particular instance on the main high street. English Shop staff heard our screams for help, came all the way out of their stores and witnessed us being sworn at, abused with hate speech and hit and stared like it was a sports show!!

Didn't bother to call the police or break it up or intercept. They stared like it was normal for two brown skinned kids to be targeted and attacked by two white kids.

Like we deserved it because we weren't white and lived in the UK. The same as the train, nobody made it stop.

I was only assisted one time by a kind passerby and he was white skinned, which surprised the hell out of me.

I guess my point is, that this former acquaintance using these slurs like it's cool is perpetuating that being white is above every other race because he doesn't see why it is wrong.

Those racial names are loaded with history and venom behind them. They are not harmless or meaningless.

They are ignorant and poisonous and cowardly and hurtful!

Everytime I think about talking to him or forgiving him. I remember the humiliation of being fought and called names and not being able to get away or protect ourselves.

When it was over, I looked at one of the staff and he was tutting like..... Typical kids, rough-housing...

When we we sobbing and fearing for our lives. He reminds me of that guy now.

The answer is No! I'm not sweeping this under the carpet to make him feel better.

There were numerous accounts that happened but I feel like I have blocked most of them out.

I wish I had thought to walk with a perfume vial to mace them with but live and learn, there is always one in my bag now!!

#BlogLife501 - Is racism acceptable if you don't mean it?

I'm pretty horrified that I just discovered one of my acquaintances use racial slurs and sees it as normal.

He explained that the N word with an *a* at the end is ok by his black friends and he's caucasian.

But he says he would not use the word with *er* at the end because that's different.

I immediately blocked him because as I've said a million times. I grew up with racism, jokes. name calling, being attacked because of the colour of my chocolate skin.

The slurs weren't even accurate but I was still scared to walk the streets at times as a caramel coloured person.

Friends and acquaintances at school would tell these racial based funnies, expecting everyone to laugh but I stood my ground and said it's not right and they eventually stopped, as more people objected.

Again his other excuse was that it's common practice for America...... And that makes it okay???

Certainly not in the UK. You would be lucky to survive a beating, saying that casually.

Just because everyone does it, that's make you do it? As though you're a sheep??

I can't respect him at all, after those weak confessions. Plus I'm wondering if his slight homophobia is because he is in the closet also.

He will go on and on and on about women but mention a guy and he's all nervous.

I'm quite vex and he's going to remain on block until I don't know...

Even after I explained that it is racist to use such terms he didn't back down from seeing it as an everyday word.

That really troubles me because I don't want him to make a fake apology or say that he will pretend to stop saying it.

I question why he does it all. I know some ethnicities claim their words back and use with it each other.

That's up to them. I'm not even sure I have a derogatory term for my race but if I found one, I wouldn't be using it.

To me it's like swearing at myself or putting myself down or slapping myself hard in the face. I had a few acquaintances that said, you can call me that, I don't mind.

I was not the same background as them and I said No I can't. I don't like the term and I've been called that many times, however inaccurate and it's still offensive to me.

I would only use the proper name and he called me prim lol but I want to respect others and not hurt them.

It's the way I was raised to be kind to others. I'm not defending him.

I will only say that he, like me, has trouble interacting with people.

I do feel bad that now he has few or no-one close to confide in anymore but I was also kinda encouraging him to be a lil self sufficient too.

I learned that I cannot rely on other people for my confidence levels.

I've said this before many times that if someone approaches me and fixates on a part that I hate and says, Oh you have stunning eyes...

And I can't stand that feature of myself, it means nothing at all but if I work on myself and re-train my brain then I can tell myself it's not my favourite part but I don't dislike it as much.

I encouraged him to listen to positive affirmations, use exercise to stop anxiety, to consider jotting feelings down...

He has done none of the work. He has relied on me to make him feel better.

Be your own rock!! I can't fix you and you shouldn't be looking to me for validation.

If you're an outgoing personality, people might naturally want to be friends with you so it's a lil easier, than being an introvert.

I'm not saying he shouldn't make friends but even doing so, opening up is still really tough.

There is a block preventing people like us from sharing too many personal details of our lives.

Through self discovery and journalling and blogging, I learn't to do that for my survival, he's male, it's doubly difficult.

I did tend to offer him support when he was confused or troubled and that was fine, although it seemed more one sided.

However I guess silly chats, helped me to relax, so in that way, it's was strangely supportive in that sense because I decompressed and felt less annoyed and upset.

There is a similar sort of disconnection going. He has certain strong beliefs and when someone is the opposite of that.

Similar to me he distances himself from them. He's anti-drugs also.

And like me, I wouldn't talk or hang out with someone that was a drug user.

I'm not sure what his reasons are and I didn't ask as it is not my business but mine are, that I grew up in that environment and I was always scared for my safety and well-being.

I hope my silence will make him educate himself and maybe think twice before using a slur.

A mutual friend suggested I talked to him about it but I already did to no avail and if he doesn't understand why it's so wrong, I'm not sure I could get through to him.

Maybe when he grows up he will realise that some things are deal-breakers and hate speech should never be used.

It's a step backwards. I'm not better than you, you are not better than me, we are all equal.

My brown skin, beauty or curse?

Growing up I never wished to be caucasian, I just wanted to get treated as fairly and respected as they were.

It's too personally identifying to name which country my folks were born in before emigrating to England but safe to say it was an Island.

I was born here so I really have known no different. The only time I visited my parents homeland was when I was three years old and I don't recall anything about it. 

When starting school both my parents were adamant that I never claim to be from where they were born. I was only supposed to explain I was British. 

I still don't know to this day if they told me that to acclimatise me and avoid seeming different but it caused an early identity crisis. 

Even though I was born in the United Kingdom, to save time from all the avid curiosity, I would have preferred stating I was British - (Censored). At least that would have covered all the bases. 

I maybe British but I don't fit into the typical mould. Someone tactfully put it as I'm a brown skinned other.. 

Nobody cared where I was from. Their sole concern was incorrectly assuming my ethnicity. 

Brown skin is open to interpretation but it is tedious correcting people over and over and it makes me roll my eyes when asked if I'm sure? Of course I'm bloody sure about my own background!!

Luckily I was able to attend schools where it was a great mixture of cultures. School was really never the problem but outside was a different story. 

I was attacked. My hair pulled, shoved and racially abused albeit with the wrong racial taunts. I had small stones thrown at me while walking home, minding my own business.

Stuck on a train, there were a group of youths screaming insults and I was petrified an altercation was imminent. 

The common theme bar one time was that onlookers stared and did absolutely nothing to assist or stop the violence. I had to avoid using a certain pathway to prevent the attacks and the last time it happened, some guy stepped in. 

The bag of food i was carrying got dropped and trampled on and my carefree mood was ruined as fear replaced it. The kind stranger picked it up, handed it to me and chased them screaming. All I wanted was a hug to reassure me I was safe. I nervously rushed home in case they returned.

The last thing that happened I don't especially know if it was a racial thing or not but years ago not to long after I moved in, some pet owner repeatedly let their dog do its business to the side of my front door.

I keep myself to myself. I don't know why I attracted this level of behaviour. Even in certain pubs, I will only feel comfortable if I can see non caucasians milling around.

Aside from being repeatedly targeted. I enjoy being different. Side note. I hate the expression tanned skin colour. It makes me think of a temporary shade. 

I was born with chocolate caramel skin. It's not fading away. People envied my skin colour and my race was different to the standard background of others. 

Another thing that bugs me is as soon as men hear the country of my parents origin. Suddenly I'm exotic. I'm full of exquisite beauty, curves and uniqueness. 

*Eye roll* Give me a break! I quickly point out that my parents are the exotic ones, not me but by that time they are too busy drooling to listen to reason.

I am not the epitome of lusciousness. I am just cute. I mean cute I can get away with. I love the accents, the music, the food and the traditions of my family.

I just abhorred the racism. I should have felt normal walking down the street, entering pubs or opening doors but instead I was gripped by anxiety. 

How was that an acceptable part of my life???