After the passing of yet another good friend this week, I couldn’t help but reflect on some of the memories we’d shared, which in turn had me once again reflecting on friendships and relationships. I was sat on mums bench at the time, and then wouldn’t you know it, someone I used to speak to rounded the corner and walked past.
The joke is the reason we don’t talk is because I fell out with a mutual friend who put the call out to their minions that they too had to follow suit. Now, I’m fully aware of certain friendship codes, but in my opinion this didn’t warrant animosity from others. I didn’t break any of the commandments. I didn’t lie, cheat, steal their money, flirt with or fuck their man – I simply didn’t give them as much attention as they thought they deserved.
I’ve already explained it all in Friend Or Foe, Let Them Go! (Part 1), and my sentiments remain the same, but another emotion has been added to the mix since writing that. Pity. I watched this person and thought it’s a pity too many of us are sheep. It actually made me give a chuckle and a sad head shake. What a way to spend your life! It’s bad enough when we’re kids; it’s even sadder as grown folk. I already knew the lesson I’d learnt from our not talking but I sure caught the blessing that day too!
If I’m a friend of yours it’s based on my relationship with you regardless of how we got to know each other or your relationship with others. It’s not dependent on anything but the love and respect I have for you and your actions. Actions can be tricky though. Sometimes we can go through things that make us act out of character for a while, so you need to use your judgement. If it’s unusual give them time, but if it’s a regular nip that bitch in the bud!
The powers of hindsight and peace truly are amazing. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have any good times with those people; but I can see now that there was always an underlying level of negative energy and toxicity that was bubbling away. The contrast between that bunch and the friend I’d lost could not be more different.
I’ve managed to weed out a lot of the fake friends or they’ve fallen off naturally. It’s possible that they’ve grown in the years since we haven’t spoken, and I really do hope that’s the case; but I’ll be goddamned if I’ll ever be inclined to find out. My new and improved quality control won’t allow it. The friend count may be lesser in numbers but it’s abundant in authenticity.
I’m thankhful to have had some long and strong ones with many great memories made to more than balance out the shitty ones that came my way, and long may they continue. There is real power in laughter and good vibes, and I’ve been getting plenty of late!* I can’t reiterate how important it is to make memories and love on your people whilst they’re here. At some point it’s all we’ll have left, but if you’re lucky you’ll get to a point where you understand that true love never dies, it multiplies.
R.I.P Tony Cunningham. I hope you’re blaring tunes and having a blast up there! You’ll be missed by many. Sincerest condolences to Gardel and your family.
R.I.P to all those who have lost their lives this week.
*Shouting out the Shake The Room – Teatime Thursday/Thirsty Thursday Clubhouse room! Y’all had me weak! If you don’t know, please get to know! A special mention going out to Queen Pee – I mean Tee and tales of her special blend!🤣😂 Looking forward to sharing the madness with the masses!
Make The Memories Count, Stay Blessed & #CelebrateLife
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So, full disclosure, I didn’t write a blog last week as I’d been in a bit of a funk due to this and that and *almost all of it a negative vibe.
It’s possibly my hormones, but I’ve been feeling hella emotional of late, and an Instagram post of a social experiment had me feeling all kinds of a way, despite me knowing better. There were 2 blind guys, one Black and the other White with a guide stick and dark glasses on and they had them individually walk down a high street and side up to a member of the public who was the opposite colour to them and hold on to their arm for support.
The results spoke volumes. When the white guy approached the Black people all but two continued to allow him to hold on and help guide him, and even then there were other Black folk with the 2 who didn’t help who stepped in and took their place and helped him.
Reverse the roles and every White person shrugged him off and went about their business.
I felt that. And that’s just it, we feel shit. I’m not saying we’re perfect, and as is the same for most ethnicities there are the bad, uncaring and or prejudice/racist ones; but I believe for most of us our levels of empathy and capacity to love is greater than most. It’s almost as if it’s been passed down with all of the trauma, trials and tribulations of our ancestors. We understand what it’s like to suffer and be made to feel a lesser person and would more time choose love over hate. We will still give it regardless of whether or not we get it back.
Obviously you’d be a little startled at a stranger grabbing your arm out of the blue, I’m pretty sure I would be, but after assessing the situation there’s no way I’m not going to help, whatever colour you may be you’re human first. From the time those White folk assessed the circumstances and still decided to walk on by you know exactly where their minds were at. For some no matter what position we’re in we’ll always be a threat.
This is why when I hear things like, “I don’t see colour” or “If you stop talking about racism it will stop existing” it annoys the hell out of me. All you have to do is look at HisStory to see that’s a crock of shit. They would rather delete and deny their misdeeds or try to spin it and make it appear they were doing us a favour than admit it; and if we allow that to happen we leave the door wide open for them to try their fuckery again as it’s clear some are just waiting for those good ol’ days to return!
It’s people of that mindset that caused my mood to lift extensively and why I’m still laughing days later. I’ve said it time and again but, I FUCKING LOVE US!!!
If you don’t know you need to google the Alabama brawl. Long story short, a Black dock worker was minding his business and doing his job when a group of entitled White folk decided to start antagonising him, all under the watchful eye of a boat load of passengers and staff waiting to dock. True to their red neck roots, their energy took hold and they thought they’d assert their superiority and hit him. Well!! My brother threw up his cap and sent out the signal.
It started as one on one but when he started to get the better of the White dude his friends jumped in – and that’s when the magic happened. The Black folk cried a collective ‘Not today!’ – and it was on! It really needs to be seen to be believed as I can’t do the running commentary justice! It was a beautiful sight to behold.
Hear me when I say I don’t do violence. I can’t even stand watching boxing, BUT I’m a BIG believer in if someone hits you, tump their claart right back – especially in these circumstances. My mum always told me that and I’ve told my girls too. Turning the other cheek or being the bigger person and walking away only allows them to hit you again on the other side or push you down from behind. Their generations done had their fun and games with us – the buck has well and truly stopped here.
Fuck around and you gon’ find out. You start it and we will finish it. That’s a **S.U.R.T! Just like those White folk in Montgomery we’ll show and prove that despite what you may think we can come together as one – and swim!🤣…well some of us anyway! I’m your stereotypical but working on it.😅
Shoutout to ‘Blaquaman’ Aaren, the young King who jumped from the boat and swam to the dock workers aid. I can only imagine the adrenaline levels to swim fully clothed and still have the energy to fight. Bravo young man. You set many examples that day without even realising it.
Another shoutout goes to the Montgomery Chair! One brother got creative and used a folding chair to fight them off!🤣…allegedly…👀…I hear they’re looking for him and I know nothing.🤷🏾♀️…👀…
Talking of creativity, the Black internet is truly undefeated when it comes to bussing jokes! I’ve laughed ‘til I cried seeing some of the memes, videos and songs in response. One thing about us is we’re gonna find a way to have a joke no matter the situation – and we know how to do it well!
But we can’t be all smiles all of the time. We have our limits and Black people on a whole have surpassed theirs when it comes to so called White superiority and supremacy. Pardon my French but you can suck out! I’m all for peace and love for all mankind, but my kind will get a bigger portion every time; and if my thoughts and sentiments disturb you or make you see me in a different light that’s on you. I’m good!
Too many who have no real experience of what it’s actually like to live as a Black person wanna come and chat the most sheggery on how things should be and how we should behave. No, you shouldn’t have to big up your colour or creed but we’ve been done down for too long, despite bringing our culture, flavour and swag to every corner of the Earth, and we’ve learned the hard way that if we don’t show us love and stand up for us no one else will. Granted some of us could do with working on our unity a lot more but such is life. The rest of us will continue whilst you catch up.
I honestly could have burst with pride seeing that video. I love my people. I love my colour and I love myself enough to know that I will never let any White person try me or us – and I make no apologies. Y’all can have several seats!
As a self confessed sun child the past couple of weeks have been seriously lacking! Yep, I know we’re lucky to see the suns ass as “often” as we do, but dang! This dipping in and out business ain’t the one! As I posted on socials earlier this week – July, Ju really be lying! KMT!
Life always seems a little lighter when the sun’s out. It’s a great mood lifter, but if like me you’re missing the joy it brings, there are other ways to bring a lil’ pep back in your step!
Some of the best things in life are free and that includes the 4 basic elements of nature – Earth, Air. Water and Fire. This week I’ve appreciated each one at different points.
In regards to earth and air, I had a walk in the park with my playlist working its magic whilst breathing deep and taking in the scenery. It’s good to clear your mind. It doesn’t have to be a walk in the park or a long meditation session. It can literally be just closing your eyes and switching off for a few minutes.
We get so caught up in the hustle and bustle that we convince ourselves that we don’t have a minute to spare, but you should always attempt to find some you time, no matter the length.
I had a glorious shower after work. You know them ones where you’re feeling sticky and icky because you’ve sweated out of every orifice and have to double check to see if you’re catching a whiff of you…👀😅….well today was one of those days! It wasn’t me, but I’m sure I wasn’t far off, and that shower seriously felt amazing. I like to imagine that I’m not only washing away the grime of the day, but all of the stresses and strains too. It honestly helps to visualise them being washed down the drain.
So that brings us to fire, and ok this wasn’t free, but it was on sale, and I do love a bargain! I bought me some lovely lights for the garden with a flame effect, and as I walked down to the *outhouse they were twinkling beautifully in the dark to escort me to bring the REAL fire with the Mr – and that most definitely is free, and easy!
We had a christening to get to…😏🔥
I’ve also had a good few chuckles this week and it’s a tonic I swear by. As much as the Mr can wind me up sometimes, he’s always had the ability to make me laugh. I have to shoutout the ‘Not A Raaaaaaaarse’ Clubhouse room for the morning madness and mayhem too. A great way to start the day!
I fully admit all of the above is even better when you’re basked in sunshine in an idyllic environment, but an elementary part of being is to start from the inside out. Get the mindset right and the rest will follow. We may not always have the ways and means to get away and escape it all, but clearing your mind and taking a little breather to do you (or have somebody do you 😏), can be a great substitute…Ok, who am I trying to kid!?! I may have exaggerated on the great, but it is good! Free up some time, be your own sunshine and let the good times roll!
R.I.P Shuhada Sadaqat aka Sinéad O’Connor. A beautifully talented artist and activist who didn’t get half the respect she deserved. May you rest in peace and all those who have lost their lives this week.
*Apologies Nasheta, ya girl’s been trying but outhouse she remains!😂
Congratulations Mr & Mrs Weston on your upcoming first wedding anniversary.😍 Wishing a beautifully blessed day for a beautiful couple and many more to come.
It’s Elementary And Meant To Be, Stay Blessed & #CelebrateLife
Believe it or not I really do attempt to live and let live, sip water and mind my business, but every once in a while you need to just talk the ting, and after some utter fuckery I’ve witnessed of late imma put my tuppence worth into the mix on the Transgender debate.
I truly don’t care what you identify as, but there are 2 lines I’d have you not cross – the manipulation and abuse of children and your approach on pleading your case.
I don’t personally know any transgender people, but my understanding of their change is that they don’t believe they were assigned the right gender that they were born with and want to be/live as their opposite sex. I get that part. Who am I to tell you how you feel? Do what makes you happy, but let’s not forget what you’re basing your changes on and can we get some boundaries put in place before making big bold movements.
I believe children should be protected and allowed to be kids for as long as possible without being involved in adult business. Obviously they need to be informed about sex and relationships when the time’s right and depending on their set of circumstances. I’m well aware that some children know their feelings from a very young age and can show signs of going in a certain direction, and it’s all well and good to discuss and act upon it, but within reason.
It’s only a short time that they’re kids. They can hold out on being pumped with hormones and all that comes with transitioning until they are more mentally prepared to handle it. The children of adults that have transitioned should be supported too. I saw a video recently that disturbed my spirit no end.
It was of a transgender woman who was highly emotional and distressed at not being able to breastfeed her child, but was still attempting to do so, knowing full well it was a futile effort but still insisting on doing so, telling us how he was latching on and she found it comforting. I’m sorry but no. She put it out there for the world to see her distress for clout and without any consideration of that poor baby. He’s not a prop, and there comes a point where lines need to be drawn.
I’m not asking for the whole trans community to be vetted, but when it comes down to involvement with kids Hell yes! And that’s not being biased because I would expect the same of all adults alike, no matter their persuasion.
I also read of one person who claimed to be a transgender woman so they put ‘her’ in a female prison and lo and behold ‘she’ managed to impregnate several cell mates.🙄
You really couldn’t make it up.
If they’re going to make moves like that at the very least the ‘woman’ in question should not have the ability to be able to get women pregnant. Why not make sure that they’ve gone through some form of medical procedure to ensure it won’t happen before placing them there? It shouldn’t be an issue for a real trans woman to accept. Why would you want to keep an appendage you detest so much?
On flip side, there are some that are so upset with their parts it’s verging on the ridiculous.
The fact that you may not want certain parts of your anatomy is fine, but it doesn’t give you the right to rename and reclaim what you decide would be a better description for genitalia. We all know that there are other terms used for those parts and it’s for the most part taken as is – with humour.
I would never expect any medical professional to call it anything other than what it is medical named – regardless of whether you want it or not, but one particular cancer trust has featured a glossary on its website stating ‘the correct language’ that healthcare professionals should use with terms such as ‘bonus hole’ instead of vagina to avoid upsetting transgender men…
They actually put that shit in writing. Bonus. Hole. It’s got me wondering what the name for an unwanted penis is? Chopstick? I’m honestly intrigued…
Speaking for myself and as a natural born woman, it kinda feels like a piss take – no pun intended. I can sympathise and understand the transgender plight and they have every right to be recognised, but can we do so without making demands on how it should be, degrading, demoralising and downgrading us?
It’s coming like a bad joke and women are at the butt of it. As much as the transgender community want to be respected we deserve the same in kind. That ‘bonus hole’ is the bringer of life – and at times misery. A woman’s lot is not an easy one and starts from a young age for some of us, and on top of that we have to fight for equality – now you wanna come bring wahala for those of us loving and accepting our natural, earthly form. KMT!
I know this may sound harsh but can we just reality check and real talk for a hot minute. I fully recognise and appreciate some people feeling like they’re born as the wrong gender. As an adult you can identify as what you like, which in itself is a slippery slope as predators like to take advantage and the populous is all too willing to bend so as not to offend; but somewhere along the line logic needs to come into play.
You can feel all the feels, dress and live as you like and make all of the medical enhancements you feel necessary, genetically getting close to being what you desire, but ultimately you will never be 100% all woman/man. It’s impossible, and no amount of foot stamping, clout chasing or name changing will change that fact, and that’s ok. Don’t let your main purpose get lost in translation.
You can live your life without encroaching on what you deem an anomaly and trying to make us feel lesser than because you do. Time is precious. Enjoy it and do you – but please do so without attempting to have us pander to fuckery and fitting into your a-gender. Pun intended.
R.I.P to those who have lost their lives this week.
Be Happy And Free ~ Just Don’t Involve We! Stay Blessed & #CelebrateLife
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From my mental, physical, spiritual and emotional bodies
‘Cause I know that spirit guides me
And love lives inside me
That’s why today I take life as it comes.”
Healing ~ India Arie
I’m happy to report that this week has been more peaceful than the last!😅
It did get me thinking though on the different types of people we’re tested by in life. It can be so easy for others negative energy to seep in and do damage, either by clouding yours or encouraging you to match what’s being sent your way.
I’ve been told in the past that I’m too nice, and when you’re so inclined it leads people to believe that they can take advantage and that you’re weak and gullible. I beg to differ. It takes real strength to stay on and maintain your path of peace. As pertaining to most things in life it’s invariably easier to go low than stay high, and there has to be that balance of light and dark to keep us in check.
It isn’t that people like me are too nice, weak or gullible – we’re not the problem. We are the light and I refuse to change who I am and follow suit. I will continue to give and show love. Since finding the art of forgiveness I’m more equipped to handle the problematic ones that slip through the net and fuck with my energy and disturb my peace, and even then it’s left with love, but from a distance!
In regards to last weeks drama I mentioned that this was a repeat case of BFD – Bullshit Fuckery & Drama. I’d been down that road with them once before and thought that we’d turned a corner only to buck up on a dead end.
It’s all good though, we all make wrong turns. You can do a u-turn and keep it moving. The mistake would be to keep going down that road and expecting anything different until you’ve been notified of things opening up.
Being your loving unapologetic self surrounded by likeminded folk makes for good times, great vibes and magical memories which is what I’ve had this week and long may love reign!
R.I.P to all those who have lost their lives this week.
Thankh you to the Queens of the NLC for lifting ya girl’s spirits with Wray, his nephew and crack cake!😂
Welcome home Hubby and thankh you for date night!😍 Jill Scott absolutely bloody smashed it! She’s such a beautifully talented being and her energy is phenomenal. I loved every minute.🖤💚
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“Cah some ah dem badmind some ah dem badmind Tek Weh Yuhself dem badmind Dis yah one ah fi prime time Dis ah fi prime time Tek Weh Yuhself ah prime time.”
Tek Weh Yuhself ~ Mr Vegas
Woosah!!
Not a week after telling you all about how I was floating upstream didn’t my claart get caught on some weeds trying to drag me back to the depths of ‘99!
My latest test came in the form of family…again. I’m sure I’ve said it before, but people’s definition of the word can vary drastically. This week’s drama is a case in point.
I unintentionally managed to upset a group of family members. Without getting into things too deeply, I am friends with someone they don’t get on with and have had issues with over the years, but me being me, I don’t get involved and don’t discuss one to the other, so I had no real inkling of how things were between them.
I was having a last minute family gathering and had invited both parties to attend but had warned both that I didn’t know what beef, if any, was still going on between them but please don’t bring that shit there if you know it’s an issue. We’re all adults, but I also understand not wanting to be in the same vicinity as certain people.
I was assured by all that neither had any issues and it wouldn’t be a problem, and it wasn’t in the end as neither party showed up.
It wasn’t long after that that I started to feel a vibe with the family side. It was subtle, but there was something off…and then I got the tingle, but surely it couldn’t be? I’d just recovered from the last bout ffs.
Would you Adam and Eve it! Another dose of BFD*. This case was different though – it was a recurring strain as I’d been here before with them. At that time we’d discussed things fully and I made it clear then that if they had anything they wanted to say to me don’t be afraid to do so. I am honestly one of the most open people you could meet, I mean HELLO!! I might not always agree with you but I will listen and discuss whatever you want.
Anyhoo, back to the tingle. We were in a group chat and one member left unexpectedly. I enquired with the others if they knew why and was told no. I messaged the person to see if they were ok and they said they were, they were just too busy for group chats. I’m guessing the one with me in in particular but left it at that; but it wasn’t sitting right and you know me…or do you?
Little did I know them scars ran deep! And that’s the point here. I knew fuck all because they’d rarely been discussed and never in depth. All I knew was, with it has to be said good reason on their behalf, they didn’t like each other. Unlike myself, who has happily shared literal ins and outs of my mind, body and soul, their tales were less forthcoming and I’m not about to pry.
I was informed that the invitation had triggered the one that left the group and immediately apologised to them all for not knowing I had done so, but naturally I was left wondering why no one had said something sooner as weeks had gone by since then.
Well, someone did eventually tell all – and boy was I told!
They confirmed that they had been cold towards me and went on to explain the reason why, which I understand in part. They had an issue with the initial message sent, feeling like I was accusing them of starting trouble, and I know and appreciate that words can be misread or taken out of context, but rather than tell me that and explain how deep your hurt was at the time, you thought a better decision was to react the way you did?
They then went on to question why I would even invite that person as they are not family and if it was a supposed family affair why were other family members not included like my daughters uncle, aunt and cousin as they are real family.
I had to reread it to make sure that that is what they had written and my heart sank. I will put my hands up every time and admit that I’m an emotional soul. My feelings are fine tuned, and with hormones added it can sometimes be a heady mix! I done told y’all I’m still doing the work!
And work I did. I had to fight against my negative Scorpio energy bringing me back to the surface firing shots, because believe me I hold an arsenal of ammunition with receipts attached. Years worth. I am more than equipped to match energies but that’s never been my calling, and it’s because of this that some find themselves feeling entitled to be bold enough to tell you who you should and shouldn’t be classing as friends and family and taking your kindness and emotion for weakness. Please don’t be fooled.
I get me. I know my heart and intentions. The circumstances with my dad has been the first time I’ve ever said I don’t want to talk to anyone. Other than that I am always willing to listen when it comes to resolving issues, and I’m aware not everyone wants to talk – but to wake up and continuously choose violence against someone who has given you every opportunity to air your grievances will never sit well with me.
Your bonafides won’t bitch behind your back, they’ll tell you to your face and would never intentionally hurt you and I’m over dealing with that type. I had it from their peers for years and it seems to have trickled down.
I left a parting teary voice note in the group and came to my place of peace to have a word with the ancestors. I know there are sceptics but it’s doing its thing for me, so I aired it out. A little while later I picked up my phone and checked my Facebook memories and there it was. They’d come through yet again.
The day before I’d put up a post about life rules I set myself and numbering them. At some point in the future (👀😅) I’ll be constructing my NuDawn Bible, and had jotted them down to incorporate them within that. My memory for that day was of a funny encounter I had with my mum where we were counting steps. It ended with her telling me that I’d been going to school for so long and still can’t count…
I hear you loud and clear momma!💫
Generational trauma, negative traits and toxicity being passed down is hella real! I will continue to do my work and I suggest others find a suitable outlet to do the same. For as spiritual as some claim to be I’d be questioning exactly what type of spirits are guiding you. Just saying!
And whilst I’m at it I’ll add this. There is a huge difference between the person they hate and the missing family members they named. I will never say their pain isn’t justified but it’s not my pain and I had nothing to do with causing it. The same person they hate has shown me nothing but love and respect but do you know who hasn’t? We may not see each other that often but I would class them as a good friend.
There’s an old Antiguan saying mum used to drop and it’s, “Some people chat cah dem hab mout’!” It translates to some folk talk a good talk purely because they have a mouth to do so, but they ain’t saying anything worth listening to or of any substance.
Actions people. Your actions will always give you away. Between the time I got cancer until the time my mum passed away I can count on one hand the amount of times ANY of the particular aggrieved came to see me or mum. The same goes for my brothers and sister in regards to visits in mums care home.
Everybody managed to show up and out for the funeral though.
When I truly could have done with the love and help from family no one was there. They in fact made things harder or were too caught up in their feelings to assess the bigger picture. Do you know who didn’t, who was there and has done so without involving me in not 1 piece of BFD and still continues to do so? Ok.
Show me you love me and I’ll show it back, come with the fuckery and I’m out. It’s as simple as that. I don’t hate them but I’m not feeling them. I worked it out and I’m good. A friend posted a TikTok of a woman dancing with a quote ‘Don’t let yesterday take up too much of today.’ She’s right. You don’t have to match negative energy sent your way. Block that ish with your light and keep shining and dancing to your own beat.
Imma pump up the tunes – yes, hubby not loud enough so you can hear it over there and blow the speaker!😅 – and I’m gonna soak up the sun whilst it’s dared to show its face. Tek weh yuhself from it all and continue to float on.
R.I.P to all those who have lost their lives this week.
*BFD ~ Bullshit, Fuckery and Drama. There’s a pandemic y’all! Protect yourselves and strengthen your defences.
I’m guessing those involved in this weeks case of BFD were fully expecting this write up and I’d hate to disappoint!😂
I’m pretty sure no fucks will be given as has been evident, but credit where it’s due to the only one of the bunch that has actually responded like an adult throughout. It’s much appreciated.
I’m also guessing some are watching me with bombastic side eye waiting on their turn!🤣 Relax. If you truly know me and come correct you have nothing to fear and I rarely name names. Rarely…
So how y’all doing? Last weeks post was a bit deep I know, but better out than in! It’s all part and parcel of this thing called life, forever flowing with twists and turns. Shit can get deep, and usually we sink or swim; but right about now ya girl’s on a floating tip!
I know my present state has some confused and questioning, and I promise the podcasts are coming to explain all, but I feel the need to put folks minds at ease that this isn’t some form of mid life crisis!😅
If you’re a regular reader you will know that I done been through some fuckery and then some, and as my byline states I’ve given you straight up real talk! It’s highly evident there’s been a whole range of negative emotions on display over the years. So if I can tell all to you on those things, why is it so hard to believe it when I say I’m truly happy? Like, would I lie?🤷🏾♀️
There are varying levels of happiness and I’m talking about the most important one – the internal. I’ve had my support network with me throughout have no doubt, but the hard work – the real HEART-work as a good friend used to call it, well that’s a solo affair.
I made a checklist of the negatives and I have nothing left I feel the need to address. Should incidents arise, like the one with daddy dearest, I can handle them because I’d already done the work. I’d already felt all the things and been through the motions and as I explained in Reality Check… I found the missing piece of my puzzle. The operative word being ‘my’.
My happiness might not look like yours, so you can be forgiven for thinking I must be lying because I don’t have x, y, z, or it doesn’t look like I’ve addressed 1, 2, 3 – but I’m here to tell you loud and clear my heart has accepted my picture as being complete. It reverberates around the body and shines through, and that’s what you’re witnessing. Peace.
It can’t be bought but it can be found, and I’ve found mine. I know all too well that that’s a blow for some folk. For whatever reason they love a drama and are only too happy when you’re drowning. Well my internal buoyancy device is on full power and keeping me afloat so I’ll be riding this wave for the foreseeable. Soz!😂 (Not!)
R.I.P to all those who have lost their lives this week.
https://nudawndiary.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2017/01/img_2038-e1688119763755.jpg11422243NuDawnhttps://nudawndiary.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/IMG_0444-1030x1030.pngNuDawn2023-06-30 10:25:432023-07-28 11:37:53Float On
A couple of weeks ago I got a message from my aunt asking me to give her a call when I was free. She’s my dads sister, and the only one of his siblings that I really know or who has bothered to get to know myself and my twin.
I’ve spoken a bit about my dad but not much. That’s purely because there’s not much to tell past the tale of your stereotypical Black male, gathering no moss as he rolled on through woman after woman. I don’t know if there are any more siblings past 1974 but I wouldn’t be surprised if some surfaced at some point. There were 8 of us, but one brother passed away some years ago. Of his 7 remaining children I know of only one he has any time for.
I jokingly call her ‘The Chosen One’ as whenever I was over in Antigua where she resides, she’d always tell me that she’d just spoken to him or he’d sent her this and that. I sincerely felt no way about it. As far as I was concerned grab what you can considering he’d gone years without contributing towards the rest of us when we needed it, making it up to one was better than none – or was it?
Call me cynical, but I looked a little deeper and I saw retirement plan in the making.
I’ve physically met him 3 times in my life. The first time I was 16. He paid for us to go see him in AmeriKKKa. I’d love to say it was a Kodak moment but there was no feeling of love, more curiosity, and we obviously wasn’t what he wanted as there was no attempt to keep contact once we returned home.
I swallowed that and kept it moving until over 20 years later when he entered my life once more via his granddaughters. My mum had kept in contact with him on and off and one day my girls were staying with her when he called and Isis answered the phone.
I’ve never hidden the state of my relationship with my dad from my girls. I’ve never cussed him out to them, just told them the truth and that I had no interest in talking to him but they could if they wanted to. On a real, he’s a man of few words anyway so I couldn’t see him telling them anything more than a couple grunts or anything untoward, and if he did I’d be there to put him in check!
Then 2014 hit. The catalyst for so many of my tales, and with it the chance to speak to my dad once more as mum had been diagnosed with dementia and couldn’t really hold a decent conversation anymore. I kept him informed of everything that was happening with her, showing sympathy as I knew they had been speaking more regularly, so did as I thought mum would want.
He flew over to see her a couple of years later for a couple of weeks, the second time I’d met him in person, and he’d yet to master the art of conversation and dare I say gratitude. I remember on a couple of occasions he made it clear he was expecting more of a welcome than the one he got, when in reality he should have appreciated the fact that I had heart enough to contact him at all.
In 2017 I got married in Antigua and due to mum being the way she was she couldn’t attend. I had invited my aunt and sisters and knew that he was also in the country so thought I’d be generous and invite him too – the third and final time I saw him. Now I know there’s more to being a parent than financial support, but he was lacking on both sides. Throughout the years he’d send us some dollars, but all combined I say it amounted to around £1,000, being generous – and that’s divided by two.
He never offered to contribute to the wedding and I’d certainly never ask. He came, saw, ate and left, without so much as a card to say congratulations. But it was all good. When you expect nothing you’re not left disappointed when that’s what you get.
Despite that, I still kept in contact to inform him of mums health and circumstances. I’d been gifted an Ancestry DNA kit and through that connected with family members on my dads side. In a quest to find out more I contacted him to see what further information he could offer. When I spoke to him he said that he couldn’t remember things off the top of his head and was busy but would call me back.
I waited a few weeks and heard nothing back. A little while later a cousin posted a whole heap of information about family connections on the Facebook family page, and upon asking her where she found out all of the information she told us that she’d had a lovely chat with Uncle Raphael and he’d filled her in.
Would you like to hazard a guess as to who Uncle Raphael is?…
There’s always one straw that’ll break the camels back and that was mine. I had every reason in life to not show this man anything but contempt, but chose to be civil and give him more time than he’d ever afforded me from conception to big 40 something years old. I’d never asked him for shit previously, and the one time I do he bypasses me to give it to someone else. Upon analysis of who he gave the info to I again deduced that it was all part of the RRF – Raphael Retirement Foundation.
Understanding and articulating my feelings and emotions has rarely been an issue, and I know that they’re a me problem, but I knew the root cause of this one lay in my relationship with him, so I called him and didn’t scream and shout, but spilled my soul on all of the hurt of the past to the present day, and as much as I’d like to deny it hurt, it bloody did.
I asked him why he was the way he was and why he left before we’d even left the womb and he dropped a bomb on me and left me to deal with the fallout. I’m not sure if that particular tale will ever be told, but it put a lot of things into perspective for me; the main one being he actually actively didn’t give a fuck.
For the sake of my soul and sanity I decided that would be the last time I spoke to him and released myself of his energy and fuckery.
Fast forward to the text message from my aunt and I was fully expecting it to be the death knell, but he was still alive. I’ll spare his blushes and not divulge the full details, but it amounted to him now having Alzheimer’s and his one repeated request is to go see his kids in England…
Can you imagine!!!??!?
My aunt knew better than to expect anything more than the response that she got from all of us over here, but she had to ask the question as it was coming on behalf of my uncle, but it made me question why he’d think it would be a viable option?
We weren’t registered as part of the RRF. He didn’t invest in our assets or show an ounce of love during his good years and now he’s in decline y’all want to come knocking. Well I’m checking receipts and it appears time’s lapsed and he ain’t eligible for a refund.
I informed other members of my family, and as ever my nephew came with the probing questions, which culminated in a release of tears I didn’t know I had stored up. He asked if I would go and see him and I in turn asked for whose benefit? It wouldn’t be mine. I explained it like this; for the most part I’ve handled all of the bullshit in my life with dignity and grace – hormones permitting! – and I realise that life isn’t fair and nobody’s perfect, so have given opportunity after opportunity for certain people to come correct. But when they still continue to show you what you mean to them it becomes draining and soul destroying.
I’ve done more than my fair share of allowing and accepting. I poured my heart out to my dad when he was FULLY lucid. I wasn’t rude or disrespectful, just honest, and he showed me what it meant to him by not one attempt of contact since that day – until now.
I don’t need to, want to and won’t show face in his degrading state. I know it would only cause me distress in the long run and I’ve had too many years of it. I’m tired. I deserve a soft life, real love and peace, so I’m choosing me and what makes me happy.
He chose himself for the longest while and lived a carefree life with no responsibilities or consideration of his children – bar one. I won’t be made to feel guilty about the situation he now finds himself in, and people can think of me what they will.
I’m protecting my energy and right now that’s my main priority. Before things turned left for him he realised the package he was paying into for his retirement wasn’t exactly what he’d envisioned so he was scrabbling around trying to find somewhere else to lay his hat.
Turns out it was a cap and it fits him perfectly!*
We all deserved to be first choices, not last options, and yes, you can deliver equal love to all of your children albeit on different levels. It’s not hard but it takes the ability to think of more than just I and I!
This happened with my dad, but I’m aware there are mothers out there who are just as uncaring yet expectant that their offspring will be there for them in later life. Let my tale stand as a warning to all that you could find yourself in your own version of where my dad finds himself. I keep telling folk what you sow you reap. Things will always find their way back to you somehow so do good and your expectations will become reality.
R.I.P to all those who have lost their lives this week.
Congratulations Susan and Byron on tying the knot! Sending much love and wishing you both many happy and blessed years ahead.
Congratulations Lydia and Carlos on your engagement! Sending love to another long and strong Black couple sealing the deal!
*He’s back in Antigua on the original plan he, in the end, didn’t want, possibly staring at the basket he put all his eggs in and full of regrets; but that’s not my business.☕️🐸
Forget Me Not And You’ll Have A Shot, Stay Blessed & #CelebrateLife
https://nudawndiary.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2016/11/img_2027-e1687520274291.jpg593735NuDawnhttps://nudawndiary.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/IMG_0444-1030x1030.pngNuDawn2023-06-23 11:46:002023-06-24 15:29:56Forget Me Not
I am currently sat outside in the sunshine, topping up the melanin and recharging before the daily grind.
I kid you not, the past 2 weeks have been different on so many levels. I’ve encountered Karens and Karenjits – yes, they’re a thing! Once again I’ve been frustrated, disheartened and disappointed, but not surprised by some. I’ve dealt with absent fathers with absent minds. I’ve had my firstborn return home, only to prepare for her to leave again, and I saw and felt the heavens open leading me to being crowned Ms Wet Maxi Dress 2023.
It’s been a trip y’all!😂
Each one of those tales will be broken down in time, but there is a common theme between all of them, and that’s women.
I’ve dealt with a varying array and unfortunately the majority of my negative experiences have a colour label attached, which is a damn shame.
No matter what shade you are, women have always held the rough end of the stick throughout time. You’d like to think that that would be enough to unify us, but despite there being many things we share in common with other females, a Black woman’s journey tends to be a little rockier; and that isn’t me talking chips on shoulders with extra salt for taste; it’s coming from the perspective of a real talking, grown ass woman with nearly half a century’s personal life experience.
I don’t think I’ll ever fully comprehend the minds of those who choose to hate over nothing more than what shade of skin you’re born with. Well, that’s to say that’s what it appears to be on the surface, but if you dig a little deeper I think it boils down to something a little more basic – good old fashioned jealousy.
We have things thrown at us from left, right, centre, back, sides, top and bottom, and yet we manage to hold on to our crowns, rising and shining through. We truly have endured the most and are phenomenal, and thankfully more of us are now recognising that despite having the strength to do it all, we deserve to have that soft life others have been afforded. To put it bluntly, we deserve a fucking break!
Our ancestors are too great to let that internal fire die so we need to allow ourselves some slack. They’ve got us! And in turn we need to have us – all of us!
I love seeing the bonds and unity the younger ones are displaying. The pride in being who they are, fully comfortable in their skin, hits my heart differently. I pray it continues to flourish, but they also need to be mindful that some of our crowns may have slipped, or were always positioned a lil’ wonky from the beginning, but that doesn’t make us any less of a Queen. There’s strength in numbers, even the small ones. A little gesture can go a long way to make someone’s day.
With that in mind I’m shouting out and sending love to the Queens who have seen me through this past fortnight;
Tashi Brown – for being my firstborns ‘Work Mum’ I will be forever grateful, Aunt Janet, Debbie Charles, Nasheta Daniel, Alvina Connor, Charlotte Weston, Natasha (Tashi) Williams, Monique Norris and last, but most definitely not least, Dolly Katherine Fernella Bridges – Mumsy and my ancestors, who gave me life and have seen me through and continue to guide me.🙏🏾
I’m fortunate to have some real gems who help see me through in many ways, and I’d like to think they know I’ve got them too. It’s not always easy, and it can take some sifting through, but there’s nothing like real ones.
R.I.P to all those who have lost their lives recently.
Mahoosive thankhs to all those who came out and braved the storm to bid Isis farewell! Safe travels for Saturday firstborn. Ancestors I’m trusting you to do the ting!
Good luck Josh Parker and the Antigua Football Team!🇦🇬
NuDawn Love Collective! ~ Crown Fixers, Stay Blessed & #CelebrateLife
I know for some this has been a short week, but for many of us we don’t get to laze on a bank holiday and remain committed to our jobs. I’m not complaining as it’s my choice and I love what I do, but I admit this week in particular has felt long and I’m utterly cream crackered.
On account of the encounters I’ve had I was initially going to call this blog ‘Don’t Be A Dick’ and leave it at that. No further words just the title, because people can be real dicks, and I really don’t have the energy. But I decided to explain a little and repost the blog below I wrote in 2019 as it explains what I mean, and as with most messages in my blogs the sentiments remain the same and will continue.
We all have off days, but if you’re in a job or environment where you have to deal with other people on those particular days you should fix your face, put on your professional hat and do the job you’re paid to do. If you can’t manage to maintain your composure take a break or furthermore, if you can afford to, take a sick day and sort your energy out before you try to transfer it.
If I’m paying for a service especially, I beg you please don’t come with attitude. If you hate your job change it. The menace-no-pause is still working her magic and on top of that sleep is sporadic, sweaty and shit. Yet despite this I manage not to take my irritability out on others – and I’m working with someone who has dementia which can be a rollercoaster ride on any given day!
I always attempt to be respectful and considerate of the fact that I don’t know what kind of a day they’re having, and that goes for everyone in general. More folk need to work on this!
Now You See Me (Part 7)
Before I get into the nitty gritty of what has been happening in my life over the last few years, let me address something else.
I’ve touched upon humanity previously, and you’d have to be blind not to notice that there is something seriously lacking with a lot of people around the world – way too many. I could run down a whole list but I actually don’t have the energy for it, I’m sure you’ve come across enough yourself to get the gist.
One thing that goes hand in hand with humanity is care. We all need it or have needed it. At the very least someone got you from a dependent baby to fending for yourself, no matter what age the care stopped. Be it a parent, family member, foster carer or wolves (I’m beginning to think it’s a possibility), someone raised you.
I believe without doubt that both nature and nurture have an impact on the person you are, but as an adult there are some choices you have to make regardless of what you’ve gone through, like how do I pay my bills? How can I make my moolah?
If you’re lucky enough to have a job you love, way to go! Right now I’m in the process of trying to do so…kinda. To be honest I need a little breathing space first, but naturally I’m thinking about which way to go next.
I’m creating my NuDawn Bible and it has its dating system. BC – Before Cancer, and AD – After Damage.
The BC me was a full time working mum, fit and so I thought, relatively healthy. I loved to shake a leg and could be on my feet all night with hardly any griping. I loved MONDAY’S (Tanya Brooks-Carty’s workout regime), and I could wear heels and run around to my hearts content should I feel the need. My mum had had a heart attack some years before and since then I’d taken care of her and her needs too. Life could always be better, but overall I was good.
The AD me had to face the fact that times had changed. Naturally I’d prefer it if my feet didn’t hurt all the time and I didn’t need to use a stick to help me, but at least I still have the ability to walk. I’ll take that and own it! “I’m an African warrior, rolling with my stick in my hand!” The alternative would be me bussin’ my ass on the floor when I lose balance so I’d rather not if you please.
AD me means that the running and jumping around I used to do without thinking twice is no longer a joy and in fact a pain in the ass, but I’ve learnt and I’m still learning how to deal with it. I’ve said it before but you really don’t realise how often you’re on your feet until it’s sending you constant reminders with and without every step.
But I suck it up because it is what it is and where would bitching get me?, which in turn causes certain people to watch you with side eye and wonder if it’s really as bad as it seems. ‘People’ will always be questioning, but that’s not for me to worry about. I have jack shit to prove to anyone. #WhoFeelsItKnowsIt
So I now find myself wondering what sort of job the ‘nu’ me should do considering my limitations. I swore to myself when I went back to work it would be doing something I enjoyed, and to not dread waking each morning already counting the hours until I was back at home. Unfortunately that’s easier said than done, especially when bills have to be paid!
I know a few people, but not enough, who actually love their job. I can’t say the same for any job I’ve had to date, not wholeheartedly anyway, apart from my “job” as a mother and my last one – which I wouldn’t necessarily call a ‘job’ as such. That’s not to say it was an easy experience, as anyone who has worked as a carer can testify to, but the person in question was my mum, so it was undoubtedly a bit easier for me as there was that love and personal attachment.
I’ve been told by several people that I should consider becoming a carer as I am so good with taking care of my mum. I get where they’re coming from. I’ve made a few friends at the home my mum is now staying in. It wasn’t hard to be fair. I’m there near enough every day and I’m quite comfortable chatting to the Golden Oldies, which is all they want really. In turn I’ve met some right characters! I swear they give me the most jokes.
That’s the easy upside, but then you’ve got the other side too. Literally the shitty side. I don’t have an issue dealing with my mums personal care and toilet issues because she’s my mum, but I’m honest enough with myself to be unsure about if I’d be able to handle anybody else’s. I think it’s essential to give a job like that serious thought.
I’ll never forget my time spent in hospital when I was ill, but one (of many!) incident in particular really got to me and is a good example of what I mean. My haters and those of you who think a lot of shit comes out of my mouth will appreciate this!
Two days after my op I was still as rough as arseholes. I was attached to a monitor and drip whilst being weaned off of morphine. I was still nil by mouth and in pain after having a third of my bowel removed and my stomach held closed with staples. I recall feeling really nauseous, then before I knew it I was throwing up. It didn’t take long for me to notice there was something not right with this picture.
Due to the op, my waste product had only one way of vacating my body. I was literally throwing shit up. You can only imagine my distress! The situation and pain was already bad enough and this was the cherry on the cake…or so I thought then. With every heave my stomach was on fire and as it took me by surprise there was no vessel for me to throw up in. I couldn’t stop, and in no time at all I was covered in putrid puke. #TheStruggleWasReal
The curtain was around my bed so I couldn’t be seen by anyone and could not call out. I managed to grab the call button to try and get someone to help me. It seemed like an age had gone by but in reality I’m sure it was only a minute or so that had passed before Nurse Fucking Ratched pulled back the curtain. She stood there, exhaled deeply and rolled her eyes with a look of disgust and disdain that I’ll never forget.
By this point the heaving had receded and she came over and told me to take my gown off. Because of the way I had been hooked up to the machinery it was a task I couldn’t do by myself which I pointed out, so she huffed and donned on gloves to scornfully help me out of my filthy gown and bed and onto a chair. She then disappeared and returned with a bowl of water and fresh gown and told me to clean myself off whilst she stripped the bed.
She was the most stone cold, heartless bitch I’d ever come across. Not once did she give an ounce of sympathy and had zero fucks to give about how I felt. All she knew was that she had to deal with clearing shit up.
Now up until this point I was on full on Warrior Woman mode. I had fought to get to a point where I was taken seriously, and I knew I had some hard work ahead to do, but I was due the results of my biopsy that day and had already known it was more than likely cancer. I was just happy to know that at last I had some kind of answer after months of fuckery and pain.
Then along comes nursey with her own special kinda medicine – a truth serum of sorts, and throws my issues clean in my face, quietly but oh-so-loudly pointing out that I am, in fact, no warrior. I can’t even manage to take off my gown, I’m weak, pissing in a bag and throwing up shit.
I admit to feeling a tad sorry for myself. I had a huge lump in my throat and could feel the tears coming but still managed to hold it down.
I climbed back into bed and she hooked me back up and left. A couple of minutes later the surgeon, his companions and Nurse Ratched came over to discuss what was happening. Apparently it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence under these circumstances and they would be putting a tube in to help clear out my stomach as it was more than likely that I would start throwing up again soon. All I heard was tube and stomach!
I’m one of those people who have a bad gag reflex. I can do my thang, but I ain’t no Dawnie Deepthroat! (sorry to burst your bubble!). Seriously though, it’s on if the toothbrush goes too far back let alone owt else!, so hearing talk about them feeding a tube through my nostril down the back of my throat and into my stomach filled me with complete and utter dread – then I clocked Ratched and had a vision of her doing the job and the dam burst.
Thankfully she was called away but by this time I was a hot mess. They said they would give me some time to calm down but we’d have to get it done soon. A little while later another nurse came along for attempts one and two. It was horrendous. I’ll allow you the finer details but it involved a whole load of retching, snot and tears. Then along came my angel in disguise.
For the life of me I can’t remember his name, but he was from the Philippines and one of the most caring souls you could ever hope to meet. He was the one who was with me when the surgeons told me what they’d discovered when I came round from my op, and he was amazed at how well I had received the news. I think he now recognised a woman at breaking point!
He knew it would be a 2 man task and enlisted the help of his colleague, who he assured me was a pro at doing this procedure, and it would be over in no time if I listened to what they asked me to do. He said he’d be right next to me holding my hand and giving me sips of water to help with the job.
They worked as a double act, cracking jokes to calm me down and then talked and walked me through it; me swallowing the sips of water to help ease the tube down with each gulp once it had reached the back of my throat, and then it was over, with only one heave in between.
They praised me on a job well done, which sounds really stupid, but they realised what a scary time it was for me and did their utmost to make sure I was comfortable.
I only wish others would take the time out and consider if the job they are doing is the right one for them. Despite me not finding my dream job yet, I made sure that the jobs that I did do were done to the best of my ability.
When you decide to do a job that involves taking care of a person it usually means that they are vulnerable and not in a position to help themselves, so you should at the very least try to be empathetic to whatever their plight may be especially as it’s something you chose to do.
I’ve experienced the good and bad side of the caring coin. I know the job is hard and a mostly unrewarding one, but you should really have some level of compassion and caring when you’re dealing with people at their weakest or lowest in particular. I said in particular because really it’s something that we should all have a touch of regardless.
I know that since my trip around the Topics of Cancer I have a lot more empathy for others plights. I can relate on a level that I truly understand folk can go through shit you can’t even relate to, but we can all relate to being treated respectfully.
R.I.P Josie Heywood. Your family did you proud and my heart continues to go out to you all.
Happy 50th Earthday/Birthday Lydia Shekiluwa. Looking nowhere near that figure! I pray you had a blessed day and many more to come Queen!
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