Blood May Well Be Thicker Than Water, But Sometimes That Just Makes It Harder To Swallow!

“Whatever it is that you came to teach me

I am here to learn it ‘cause

I believe that we are written in the stars

I don’t know what the future holds

But I’m living in the moment

And I’m thankhful for the man that you are, you are, you are, you are

You are everything I ask for in my prayers

So I know my angels brought you to my life

Your energy is healing to my soul

You are a beautiful surprise…”

Beautiful Surprise ~ India Arie

For a number of reasons 2023 will go down in NuDawn history as my year of enlightenment. No one is perfect and without fault, but in general I’ve always been quite chilled and mostly drama free – with the exception of family.

No one has the power to get to you more than those you love, and my circumstances made me take a step back and assess my bloodline and the different paths I’ve walked down with some of my supposed nearest and dearest.

I’m going to save the finer details for the podcasts*, but it bought me to the realisation that BS has played a big part – Bull Shit and Black Sheep! For me the two go hand in hand. I became the black sheep after smelling and calling out the bull shit. I’m an emotional being and I’d be lying if I said this didn’t affect me in some way, as is evident if you’ve read my earlier blogs!😅

This year I finally managed to let go of the emotional hold of the BS and being the black sheep with proof that the world really does work in mysterious ways. If I had listened and gone with the majority I would never have found myself in the position I find myself in now and it’s a wonderful place to be. I class it as my reward for being open. Open hearted and open minded and unbound from the toxic ties that can come encased in family.

As fate would have it my experiences have also strengthened my ability to pick up on peoples energies and sniff out the bs quicker. I had an encounter recently where I felt the person’s energy was off but they tried to convince me there wasn’t an issue. I knew it was bs and eventually got to the crux of it, but I really don’t understand why they couldn’t just be real and say how they feel.

Love can show up in many different ways but once you know the fundamentals of it you’ll be able to assess the bs and separate the wheat from the chaff. Please don’t be afraid to be the black sheep and keep your integrity intact. Blood alone is not family. It can be comprised of whoever shows you genuine love. 

I just happened to find another long lost black sheep from the same herd and we’ve managed to change the narrative and turned the bs into Blessed Souls and Beautiful Surprises.

Do you, stay true and the real ones will find you and shine through.💫

R.I.P Leon Christian-Samuel and all those who have lost their lives this week.

Happiest of Earthday/Birthdays to my beautiful surprise of a nephew Josh Parker. I honestly can’t thankh you enough for the gifts you’ve given me and I wish you a truly blessed day and the best of everything to come. Nuff love always.🖤💚

I promise they are coming! Trust me I’ve had to be as patient as y’all but they’ll be worth the wait.😉😅

Winter really be wintering out there! Jheeeze!🥶 Wrap up warm and stay safe.

Assess The BS, Stay Blessed & #CelebrateLife

Life can be only what you make it

When you’re feelin’ down you should never fake it

Say what’s on your mind

And you’ll find in time

That all the negative energy, it will all cease

And you’ll be at peace with yourself

You won’t really need no one else…”

My Life ~ Mary J Blige

I started writing my blogs with 2 main purposes in mind, and that was to share my cancer journey and the tale that ran alongside it. It’s been a lot to say the least, and over the past couple of weeks I’ve had reminders of just how damaging, destructive and far reaching one persons actions can be.

I promised you and those involved that one day all will be revealed and I’m a woman of my word! So we go again! My attitude has changed since writing these but the memories remain so the tale will still be told but there might be a little less expletives…👀…maybe!😂 I fully expect judgement and all of the things that comes with exposure but you know what, fuck it! I had to live it not y’all, and it’s my truth, so love it or hate it imma be true to me and purge this fuckery once and for all.

I used to think that I was a hurricane but I’ve come to realise it wasn’t me. I, like many others, was caught up in the storm he created. He sat calm and comfortably in the eye of it whilst we were spinning and spinning, twisting and turning on each other.

Thankhfully I found the light to guide me out of it, but now it’s like I’m sat on the outskirts watching the rest still caught up in it and trying to show them the way out, but like most things if you keep at it for long enough you get comfortable and it becomes the norm, and that includes negativity and hate.

There’s only so much you can say and do to show them the pathway through. I’ve tried and now it’s down to them and I pray that it comes sooner rather than later so they don’t waste anymore precious time in it.

All that being said, now is my time to put this chapter of my life to bed – and what better way than with a tale! I will leave links to the disclaimers below and then you can get into Part 1 in preparation for the podcast which will be coming soon!

Disclaimer (Part 1)

Disclaimer (Part 2)

Disclaimer (Part 3)

The Root Cause

“The problem is and always will be that since David and Dawn have been awarded control of our Mothers money, something that we had not agreed to, that there has been a scam going on with regards to what they are doing with her money. They state that there is no money to assist with rent/mortgage, therefore my mother is living in the house rent free, however they have been saving money in a savings account to pay for their own flights to Antigua upon my mothers death.

Should my Mother be placed in a care home, she would not receive any of her pension and the government would have to subsidise her pension to meet the cost of the home and her care, so my point is, why shouldn’t she contribute towards the rent/mortgage of the house she is living in?

There has also been accusations made against me, that are completely uncalled for and unjust. The situation between myself and Dawn Williams has always been an issue, for whatever reason she has chosen to create problems for me, therefore her presence in my home/the house is not a situation I particularly like nor want…”

The above is part of an email sent by my brother Dale. Quite frankly if I had any doubt he is a sociopath (which I don’t), the above and more confirmed my thinking. So seeing as he has no issue with calling my name and telling others about me, yet difficulty in understanding how our relationship came to be what it is now, let me enlighten you.

Really and truly some people should not throw stones because they can rebound and knock a fucker out!

We’re going to come back to the above statement as a whole further down the line, but for now I’d like to draw your attention to the last paragraph. The “for whatever reason she has chosen to create problems for me” line in particular. To do that we have to go back – waaaay back! Back to the summer of ‘74!

This was the year my dad decided to bugger off, leaving my mum 5 months pregnant with twins. At the time Dale was 16 and instead of going on to college after leaving school he decided to get a job to help our mother out. Little did we know then this was a gesture we would be invoiced for later; but little did he know, on November 21st what he would deem to be his arch nemesis would be born.

Let’s not get it twisted, naturally I wasn’t born hating him, but I was born fighting from the very start. My twin was born first with no problem. I however was breech, and by all accounts it wasn’t an easy ride! But I made it, and the same fighting spirit I was born with still remains!

One of my earliest memories is being in my cot in Dales room, banging on the wall and hearing my twin bang back from the other side in our mother’s room. We’d be separated at night sometimes, I’m guessing to give our mum some peace, but I would always be in Billy’s room.

I’d never addressed my brother as Dale until five years ago. Until then he was Billy. It’s not unusual for West Indian’s to be called by different names, but I never knew and still don’t know why he was given that name. I can hazard a guess now though. Billy Bullshitter would be an adequate and accurate description.

Being little my senses hadn’t quite kicked in yet, but there were some things that couldn’t be ignored. For example, the same siblings who have now chosen to put on a united front and show me such contempt, didn’t speak to each other for years. I grew up with them literally not talking to each other at all from as young as I can remember until about maybe 10 years old. I have no idea what their beef was and vaguely recall asking my mum about it one time when I was little and her saying she didn’t know.

Maybe she didn’t or maybe she didn’t want to explain it to a child, but again purely guessing, I could see Dale being the cause of whatever went down as this was at a time when my sister had some form of sense and hadn’t drunk the Kool Aid. I know from experience he has a habit of being the root cause of many a circumstance.

But before I came to that conclusion I was the most doting little sister you could hope for. I truly loved and idolised him. He was good looking, super fit, popular, talented, drove a funky car and he was MY big brother. He stepped up when my dad didn’t and I loved him and appreciated that.

I used to have these episodes of shivering when I was small and I remember one time mum not being around and going downstairs to the garage (which he had converted into a gym) and telling him. He took me upstairs, wrapped me in a blanket, made me a cup of tea and told me I’d be ok, and I knew I would be because he was my big bro and he made me feel safe.

The love I felt for him was real and I would do anything he asked me to. The only time I can recall really disrespecting him was when I was a about 11. We didn’t have a lot of money and pocket money wasn’t really a regular like others had. He use to have a big old whiskey bottle he would save twenty pence pieces in. Back in the day 60p could buy a can of drink, chocolate, crisps and enough change for a few penny sweets – and the temptation to indulge my sweet tooth was too great for me to resist.

The bottle was at the back of a wardrobe and he never really touched it except to top it up so it wasn’t on show, and as a youngster I wasn’t calculating the fact that I was spending and it wasn’t being replaced or of what the consequences might be. I got busted when he went to get some money and the majority had gone. He went ballistic but in fairness it was more verbal than anything else. I got off lightly as it must have been a fair amount if I think back on it now.

Naturally I apologised and I can honestly say I felt thoroughly ashamed, guilty and disappointed in myself doing it and having him think less of me. If it helps him, I believe my love of sugar was the top factor in me having bowel cancer. He can take some comfort in knowing karma came around and slapped me hard!

Fast forward to age 17 and the relationship between myself and my siblings was good. By then Dale had married and was living with his wife and 2 sons. My sister had also moved out so I at last had my own bedroom!!

This may not seem like such a big deal to most but it meant a lot to me. Life could always be better but I had my own little sanctuary. I was young, at college and living as much of my best life as I could. It was the early 90’s and in my opinion one of the best decades to be young and free! I’d always been sporty and would usually wear tracksuits and trainers, but I’d not long discovered the wonders of Lycra, batty riders and relaxers and it was game on!

Although Dale had moved out he spent a fair amount of time at the house as he had converted the box room into an office and he still had the gym set up. From as far back as I can remember it was a regular occurrence to have people in and out of the house who would come for workout sessions.

When I mentioned earlier that he was good looking make no mistake he knew it. He worked out a lot so had a good physique and it would seem, could charm the pants off of most women despite being somewhat follicly challenged. To say he had a lot of female attention is an understatement. Even at a young age I remember feeling a bit sorry for his wife. She was a lovely woman and you knew she adored the ground he walked on and the same could be said of his sons.

In most Black households back then a child knew their place and I knew mine. I would see shit and between myself and twin we’d discuss it, but there’s no way we’d have the front to address it to ‘big people’. In the future I would have conversations with other family members about it, but at the time it wasn’t an option.

Well it turns out it wasn’t just a workout but more a ‘wuk-up’ some were getting. Then again when you come training fully equipped wearing heels, mini skirts and reeking of Poison it’s not purely iron you’re pumping, and a particular “session” performed in the dark with the door locked came out in the light.

He’d managed to get one of them pregnant and that put an end to his marriage. Naturally he would move back home, and it was at this point I finally saw the wolf out of his sheep’s clothing. #TheDawningOfANuDay

At the time I had 2 single beds in my room and he saw fit to come cotch in MY room. Obviously I was a tad perplexed. There was never anything untoward, it was purely an invasion of privacy. It wasn’t just a sleeping situation. I’d sometimes come home in the afternoon and he’d be lying down so I couldn’t just come in, put on my tunes and relax or whatever the fuck I wanted to do.

I spoke to my mum about it. Now the thing you need to understand about my mum is she was a small, relatively quiet and easygoing woman until you pissed her off and then she’d tell you all about yourself. Except that is for her golden child.

Please don’t mistake this for some form of sibling jealousy. Anyone who knows my family will tell you that’s the way it was. She felt indebted to him for stepping up when her husband left her and I totally understand why she felt that way.

She, like myself, would do whatever she could for him in her own way, be it whipping up food for him and his friends, giving him use of her house for his own interests and allowing him to live there rent and bill free when he returned home – she was grateful so said nothing. Did it bug the fucking life out of me? Yes, but it was her choice to do it and it wasn’t my house.

She would later see the light but alas it was too late.

I suggested to her he give up one of the other rooms he was occupying and she told me to ask him, which I did. He straight up asked me why? I was astonished I had to spell shit out but I did, and even suggested having the box room, giving him the bigger room. I’d say that was more than a fair trade, right? Wrong! Unfortunately he thought I was being unreasonable and disrespectful for even asking.

I remember sitting there thinking who does that? How does he think it’s appropriate for a big hairy arsed 30 something year old man to share a room with a 17 year old girl? Who the fuck would want to? How is he so selfish he wouldn’t give up one of THREE rooms he was using for his sibling? It was either put up and shut up or get to stepping, so I decided to leave.

Ironically, the day I left I was going to his old home to babysit his sons. I sat waiting for a taxi with my suitcase and bags and when it arrived he left me with a few parting words. He told me to go on about my business. I was a slag and a slut and a whore and all I wanted to do was go and fuck man.

The cabbie helped me get my case and bags in the boot and I got in and broke down. The cab stunk to high heaven but he was kind enough to ask me if I was alright and seemed concerned. I couldn’t stop crying so he thankfully didn’t talk and left me to it. I remember arriving at my sister in laws home a complete mess and trying to compose myself and failing. She was sympathetic. I’m figuring by then she’d had no misconception of what he could be like.

We didn’t realise at the time that this was step one in his master plan and a real eye opener as to who we were dealing with. By we I mean me, because as you’ll discover it was as if I’d breached some form of protocol I wasn’t privy to in having the audacity to address him. His majesty is not to be questioned or displeased or off with your head – or out with your bags, whatever works!

He’d failed miserably at being king of his own castle, so he was coming back home to claim his throne and I was the first obstacle. I realise now his loving, parting words to me were nothing but transferring his own self worth on to me. I may have shown a lil’ ass, leg and cleavage but I was a virgin the day I stepped out of that yard with my bags in tow. He was the slag, the slut and the ho’ and all he wanted to do was fuck. Fuck women and fuck about.

Within 2 weeks of me leaving he’d decorated the bedroom and bought himself a double bed. Mission accomplished! #OneDownTwoToGo

I came back home after a week or so and stayed on the sofa for a couple of months until I moved out fully with a couple of friends and never looked back. After some time we got talking but our relationship was never the same again. He never apologised or felt any kind of way, it was simply forgotten by him and chalked up by me.

Referring back to that line at the start, we never had an issue until I dared to question him, and I didn’t create any of the problems he has since faced. He created all of his problems with his shady, shitty, cuntish manoeuvres. I am not the reason and because I won’t allow it I’m being classed as a troublemaker. Oh well! What you sow you reap, and I’m going to tell the world about his particular harvest.

Maya Angelou said when someone shows you who they are believe them the first time. I heeded her word.

R.I.P to all those who have lost their lives this week.

Bahamas we feel your pain and are praying you get the relief and support you need ASAP.

Clear The Weeds, Stay Blessed & #CelebrateLife

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


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…

Tek Weh Yuhself!, Stay Blessed & #CelebrateLife

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

⚠️WARNING!!: If you’ve read my blogs before you’ll be aware I like the odd smattering of expletives here and there. I could apologise but I won’t. It’s MY real talk and how I express myself, obviously not all the time – there is a time and a place. HERE IS MY TIME AND MY PLACE! I’m just giving you a heads up: There’s a couple of strong ones today!!

Stick and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me. I’ve heard it being said and even muttered the saying myself as a kid, but the truth of the matter is I was only lying to myself. It’s a crock of do-do! No, they can’t break bones but they can cause pain – they can make your heart ache – and there’s nothing wrong with admitting that they hurt you.

I had my fair share of petty drama as a teen but as an adult I avoid it like the plague! “Ain’t nobody got time for that!!”

I’m not saying I’m friends with everybody. There are a few people I really don’t like but it ain’t a thang! I see you, but I don’t see you and life goes on. They quite literally mean nothing to me and I understand the value of time so it will not be wasted on “nothing”. The majority of the time I’m an easy going person, I live and let live. I know my worth, I don’t allow people to cross many lines and I know how to lock people off, but sometimes it’s not that easy. Sometimes a situation arises where as much as you try to be the better person you can’t escape a little drama whilst dealing with it because you’re faced with a special breed of people. I like to call them CUNTS.

Harsh words are never welcome but at times need to be spoken. Every once in a while certain people need to be put in check and told a few home truths. #JustSaying

Thankfully I don’t have to do it often but when I do, for me, the reason they’re receiving the tongue lashing is a build up of so much bullshit either being said or done I can no longer bear the stench. It may come across as harsh but it’ll be based in truth. I’m aware that those words hurt the person on the receiving end (or possibly not as it’s debatable whether they actually have feelings) but, in my eyes, that pain can be classified as being self inflicted on account of being a cunt. #YouBroughtItOnYourself

Cunts have the ability to throw you off balance. The most grounded person can be rocked by another persons cuntish behaviour. They come in both sexes, all colours, creeds, shapes and sizes but share many nasty characteristics and qualities. Their cuntishness knows no bounds and can range from small time cunt – like the ones who now feel it necessary to shout abuse and tell every person of colour in England to go home, or major cunts like the government and the most recent terrorists in Turkey. They have the knack of pushing the right buttons to really upset you and make you wanna fuck up a bitch! As cool, calm and collected as we may appear to be (👀), we’re human, we have feelings and cunts can inflict pain with words like no other, which as well as causing anger can also have some sliding down a slippery slope to dark places.

My pain was caused by words that come straight out of left field and knock you for six. It kinda stops you in your tracks for a hot minute as your head and heart register what was said. It’s said just in the right tone or just at the right time to inflict the most damage. It’s bad enough if it’s from a random stranger but when it comes from a supposed “loved one” it cuts all the more deeper. Unfortunately for me I’m dealing with the latter type at the moment, with words and actions combined they are the hardest to ignore and forgive.

Unfortunately for them their words are not enough to break me fully, but inspired me to write a few of my own. The pain they caused has subsided substantially and their actions I am dealing with as best I can. A little down but never out – believe that!! These cunts picked the wrong bitch to mess with.

I believe you shouldn’t hold things in that upset you. Negative energy’s not the one. Better out than in and all that jazz. Release that shit and keep on moving! I also believe you shouldn’t allow anybody to try to bring you down or disrespect you no matter who they are to you, especially if, like me, you know your worth.

I try to stay as positive as I possibly can be, but as I’ve said time and again I’m a realist, and I know it’s not possible all the time. I’m not a big fan of airing my business and I’ve never felt the need to name and shame but under special circumstances (and for especially cunty cunts) I’m willing to make an exception to my rule. The only reason it hasn’t been done already is because I have no option but to bide my time…for now.

There’s been a mild breeze in the air but hear me when I say Hurricane Dawn is brewing!!

Watch what you say people. No matter what the old adage says WORDS HURT!! I’m very careful with mine. It’s a shame others are not the same because once they’ve been said they cannot be taken back, but they can be remembered for a long time. Some will soon be reminded of their words. #Cunts

R.I.P Turkey 43

R.I.P to all who have lost their lives this week

Think Before You Speak, Stay Blessed & #CelebrateLife

“What’s worse, lookin’ jealous or crazy? Jealous or crazy? Or like, being walked all over lately, walked all over lately. I’d rather be crazy.”…

Beyoncé ~ Hold Up

Two weeks ago my mum unexpectedly passed away. As you can imagine it hasn’t been an easy time. Despite her being in her twilight years and having dementia and knowing it’s inevitable, I wasn’t ready. There was no prep time. No warning. No final goodbye.

It was nothing we hadn’t been through before. She had been admitted to hospital with a chest infection and would be fine once the antibiotics had kicked in. I’d been there for hours and it was late and I was told to go home. She’d be fine and discharged back to the home in the morning. I wrapped her blanket around her, kissed her and told her I loved her and I’ll see her tomorrow.

I did see her, but not how I expected. I got a call just after 5am telling me she wasn’t looking good and to come now. I was confused. “What do you mean, not looking good? You said she’d be fine? You told me to go home!”
The nurse told me it was a suspected heart attack, so naturally I threw some clothes on, made the necessary calls and rolled out.

I was the first to arrive, and I knew as soon as I was asked to come and sit in the relatives room instead of by her bedside what the deal was; but I still needed to hear it. I had been alright up until that point. As soon as she said she’d gone I was a mess. It was only a matter of minutes before I was joined by my twin and as soon as he saw me he knew.

With my hand on my heart I can say we did all we could to make sure she was loved and taken care of. Since she went into the home the longest my twin and I had not seen her for was a week – the week of our cousins funeral which we both attended in Antigua. Before I left I made sure I’d asked people to visit. Regardless of whether she could hold a running conversation or not, it’s always nice to see a different face and you don’t know what seeing it may trigger.

For some it’s just a waste of time. For me it was quality time. I have been accused of being to blame for mum being in a home. It’s all true. I fully accept my part in it. But when the Carry-Go-Bring-Comers get the scoop they forget to ask about the finer details. The multiple questions and reasons as to why. It’s all good. I have the answers as you’ll discover soon enough. In the meantime here’s two you can ask them.
How often did they see mum in the past year and how often did they take her out?
It’s ok. I’ll wait…

To those who have been vocal and for those who are whispering behind closed doors, I’ll set you straight. There will never be any chance of reconciliation with my siblings within my lifetime and possibly the next. I’m pretty sure it works both ways too. Apparently I’m an interfering, druggie, family wrecker with daddy issues who needs help, and I’m to keep on ranting on Facebook like the crazy Black woman I am!

Ok. If I must!

Call me what you want and say what you will. I would rather be me than anything like what others perceive themselves to be. I admit I’m not always a lady and I am not, nor have I ever claimed to be, holier than thou – I’m as far from religious as you can be, but I’ve respected my mum all of my life and I’m not about to stop now as we lay her to rest.

If ‘people’ are looking for fireworks or some kind of show at her burial you’ll be disappointed so please don’t come unless it’s about showing your respect. Many didn’t when she was alive, and it’s actually ironic how some are more fussed about her dead body and what happens to it than when she was living.

Gotta make sure she has a good send off!

I think it was more important to give her the best life rather than a good send off. Some will see me as being awkward or stubborn or just plain outta order, and that is your right, but I am not in the habit of playing happy families to make other ‘people’ feel comfortable. I have no desire to ‘pull together’ now. Why? Because it’s the right thing to do? For who exactly? Her spirit has left. That’s what needed lifting when she was here. Fuck who wants to lift her coffin now she’s gone.

But that’s just me, and emotions are high, but as I was told I have to live with my guilt and my conscience. And I’m doing just fine on those levels! I can’t say I’m the best with the rest but I’m sure I’ll be fine in time. It just hurts like a bitch.

For now I’m going to try and deal with the flow of toxicity that has returned in my life, and do what has to be done and move on. It’s a struggle but one thing I know for sure is I am definitely Dolly Merchant’s daughter when it comes to my mouth, so I will continue ranting like the crazy Black woman I am for you, mum.

Whilst others may remain wrong and strong, so I shall remain right, tight and shedding light…when the time is right!

Thankh you Mama for the 9 months you carried me through and for being you. You’re finally at peace now and out of your dementia state. I hope you’re having a blast up there.

R.I.E.P Mumzy🖤

R.I.P to all those who have lost their lives recently.

Rest Easy, Stay Blessed & #CelebrateLife

Sister Sista!

“I haven’t time to waste my time with the likes of you!…”

I would think by now you’ve read enough to understand some of the reasons as to why mine and Dales relationship is the way it is. Since my teens there has been a steady flow and varying degrees of shit, so when the events of the past five years first unfolded the majority of it was of no great surprise.

However, what did take me by surprise is how the relationship between myself and my sister fell apart. To be totally honest I’m still flummoxed. It’s actually quite funny as the love and adoration I had for Dale as a child could not be said of my feelings for her.

Our sisterly bond didn’t really kick in until after she left home. Before then it felt like I was more tolerated than loved. She was always so bloody miserable! There were never any girly sessions or guidance from her. I actually struggle to recall any major bonding moments that didn’t involve me trying to garner some form of affection.

There is an eleven year age gap between us, so by the time I was 10 she was 21 and we had little in common. By then I was a typical kid into my pop tunes but had also been introduced to my Black side via my eldest brother. She was different. She had a Black side but it was more diluted.

Considering that she and Dale were born in Antigua they both spoke as if they were born with silver spoons in their mouths. Dale would switch it up every now and then and try and drop a little patois into the mix, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard her speak anything but the queen’s English and banshee.

She liked jazz, funk and soul, and I credit her for introducing me to the likes of Anita Baker, Maze, Roy Ayers and Tania Maria. My main impression of her back then was that she liked make up and shoulder pads, wining, dining, hobnobbing and white men.

I mentioned previously that she and Dale never talked when I was little. I used to think that part of the reason must be because she was so moody and uptight, but then I finally got it. She was bouji!, and I came to understand it was mostly frustration at her environment. For someone of her imagined stature living at home must have been torture for her.

It wasn’t unusual to have the smell of sweat and testosterone wafting upstairs alongside the grunts and groans of Dale and his mates working out. Not the greatest when you want to relax with a glass of wine and chill with Robbie Vincent.

She was smart (or so I thought), had good taste and liked the finer things in life, but we were flexing with Vimto money and she had champagne tastes! She tried though, bless her. I’ll never forget the time she bought carpet for the front room. Lovely, fluffy, deep pile CREAM carpet…👀

Even at my young age I knew it was a disaster waiting to happen!

It was lovely carpet for about a week. Then Dale came home one day and walked clean through the front room with his muddy Doc Martens and left a trail of destruction behind him. Understand the rest of us virtually hovered over this fucking carpet let alone sip beverages darker than water anywhere near it.

You have to go upstairs to enter the front room, so he had plenty of opportunity to take his boots off before walking on it but chose not to. He was basically saying fuck you and your carpet.

I remember the vexation from my sister at the time. I can’t be certain but I believe that was a turning point for her. She realised her efforts were not going to be appreciated within the house. I’m sure it helped to cement her decision to leave home and have all the cream carpet her little heart desired.

Well she did just that. Cream carpet an’ all! She was seeing her now husband at the time and they eventually moved in together. I remember Dave and I praising the Lord that she’d gone. The mood totally lifted and from then on our relationship was great. I’d literally never seen her so happy. Space was definitely what was needed all round. She was free to be as bouji as she pleased and was loving it, and most definitely living her best life.

On paper we were polar opposites. Looks, tastes, lifestyles – everything!, but we had at last bonded. We’d often talk about things going on at home and Dales behaviour. She was glad to be well out of it all and was in no way looking back. In fairness to her, despite not coming back to the house very often, whenever she upgraded anything she would give the old bits to mum to help spruce the place up. I say old bits but they weren’t old or battered. It was all good quality stuff and mum was grateful.

My sister was always adamant that she didn’t want to have children. They’d encroach on her lifestyle too much. Bali’s not quite the same with a bawling brat in tow don’t you know!? She was good with my two girls and her other nephews and nieces, but admittedly far from the motherly type.

Just after having my second daughter I discovered that I had two other sisters on my dads side that lived in London. I knew I had other siblings but didn’t have a clue that any lived in England. One of them happened to go on a trip organised by the Antigua Association and met a woman who told her she knew of siblings she had in Slough.

She took her number and passed it on to my mum who passed it on to me. Now after giving birth to my daughter, a week later I was in hospital with a headache I’d had for the whole week. I’d never felt anything like it. It was the worst and constant. It felt as if my brain was being battered inside my head and any kind of light was like torture.

As it turns out I had a benign pituitary adenoma, and after spending 2 weeks in hospital and having a fit, I came round to discover the headache gone and along with it all recollection of giving birth. I remembered being pregnant but not much after that and totally did not register my baby as being mine…sorry Sadé.

I’d had enough head fucks by then, so receiving a number from a sister on my dads side wasn’t really appealing to me. I had visions of her trying to get me to reconnect with him and I sooo wasn’t interested. I believe it was my husband who encouraged me to make contact…it’s all quite hazy, but I do remember the day we actually met.

I had to laugh. It was a lovely summers day and it was as if the higher power were saying, you know what girlfriend, you’ve done been through enough honey chil’! Have this on me!

They were like the sisters I’d imagined and never got. They were FULLY in touch with their roots and we all looked alike. One of them even had locs and smoked too! We clicked and bonded straight away. Like me they had Black partners and Black kids and all I kept thinking was why couldn’t I have met them sooner?

Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against mixed relationships and I have no issues with it at all. It was just nice to have females on my level who could relate to being my kind of Black. I never had that with my sister, and my mum and I were generations apart. The fact that they couldn’t stand our father either just added to the love.

My paternal sisters came to Slough and met the rest of my family and we’ve been in regular contact ever since. A couple of years after meeting them my sister unexpectedly found herself pregnant. That wasn’t just a shock to her but to all of us, trust me.

She was in her early forties by then and recognised the miracle that it was so decided to keep it. I was happy for her and especially her husband. As much as he was happy to live life as a twosome you could tell he’d love to have had a child of his own.

And I was pretty sure this child had come to fix my sister!

Whenever and wherever I could I helped out. I loved my niece and at that time my sister couldn’t drive, so if she needed anything or had to go anywhere whilst her husband was at work I would be there. When she went back to work I looked after her. She knew I smoked but it wasn’t an issue. She knew I wasn’t a junkie and wouldn’t do it around her daughter.

We were good. We were tight. I thought I knew her. Sure she was bouji and a little stuck up, but ultimately she was good people. Hear me when I say when the shit hit the fan I was totally blindsided by her and it cut deep. Real deep! Never did I imagine she’d be Pinky to The Brain.

She sent the opening quote to me. This was well after all of Dales escapades I’ve mentioned previously and after the majority of what you’ve yet to discover. For her to look down her nose at ‘the likes of me’ whilst backing the likes of him is to me beyond a joke.

As much as she may think cannabis has fucked me up in the head, it seems it’s not a touch on the gin that’s addled her brain! I promised her that one day I would remind her of everything.

Buckle up bitch!😂

R.I.P Diahann Carroll and all those who have passed away recently

R.I.P Joy Morgan. Now your family can finally put you to rest

Huge congratulations to Dina Asher-Smith, Katarina Johnson-Thompson, Shelly-Ann Fraser-Price, Allyson Felix and Nia Ali for totally smashing it for black women in the World Athletics Championships!

You Live & You Learn, Stay Blessed & #CelebrateLife

Wtf!? Are Ukipping Me!?

“The situation between myself and Dawn Williams has always been an issue, for whatever reason she has chosen to create problems for me…”

I’m sure that by now some of you, possibly a lot of you, are still questioning why I’ve chosen to air and share. For the paracats and those who I’ve ever had an issue with you can rest easy!

I’m hoping that if you’ve read Disclaimers 1-3, like really read them and not just skipped through to The Dales, you’ll have more understanding of the person I am. Believe I have no trouble in locking folk off without the need to go to these lengths. I’m rational enough to know not everyone will like me, and I in turn don’t like some people, but that isn’t going to effect my everyday life.

This is different because it did effect my everyday life on a number of levels – in fact the main cause of it has been effecting it for the longest while, and quite simply, I’m done.

There comes a point in your life when you have a lightbulb moment. I’ve had a few, but the most significant one came when cancer came calling. That bitch made me pay real attention. I don’t expect many to get it and I can’t really explain it, but let’s just say it gives you a form of clarity that can only come when your life is on the line.

I can’t stress enough how much I honestly have no time for bullshit. So when you see me putting my energy behind this you had best believe it’s for a good reason. The absolute best reason. Me.

To you it may seem as if I’m having a laugh or being disrespectful, petty and bitchy. I get that it may come across as such, but that is your opinion and you are most welcome to it. I’m hoping that my words have managed to convey more than that and you can see that it goes a lot deeper than sheer pettiness. If not, oh well! I can’t make you see it any clearer without the help of a wand and a pensieve!*

OurStory has shown me a lot, and something that you can’t escape but notice being brought up Black back in the day, is that we don’t like to talk and respect is age controlled. You’re to respect your elders regardless. They’ve been here longer than you so it’s an automatic given. Hmmn…

It’s mad the people and things others will show respect to and their reasons for doing so. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m all for respect – when it’s due! I don’t give a flying fuck how old you are, who you are, or what title you hold: NO ONE is above giving respect, and in turn you will receive it. For me, your actions will determine when it’s given, not hot air and the fact that you’ve managed to exist a few years more than me. Soz! And by actions I don’t mean shit that you’ve accumulated, money included. I’m talking on a humanitarian level.

Religion, especially Christianity, has played a big part in the Black community since way back when, and as we all know it comes with commandments that are supposed to be adhered to. This is one of the issues I have with religion. It’s not the commandments themselves as such, but the fact that most like to work the system.

Way too many believe that their wrongdoings are accounted for because they’ve attended church on a regular basis and given it to God. Because they have confessed their sins the board has been wiped clean and they are free to go at it again. #RepentCheatLieRepeat

I’ve mentioned before that I’m not religious, but I do believe in a higher power. Because I choose not to go to church or follow a book, it doesn’t make me a lesser person or a heathen. Again it goes back to respect and what people perceive to be respectable behaviour. Just because you wear the title of Christian it doesn’t mean you get a free pass on fuckery from me.

Practice what you preach or shut the fuck up. I’m sorry, not sorry, but I won’t respect hypocrites. Despite my beliefs not measuring up to some, they are what I live by and I’m good with that. It’s the reason why I can sit here and write this, because I have the belief that the truth will set me free. I can admit (most) of my faults and flaws to the point of putting it out there for all to see.

If someone comes at me I only have myself to blame and will deal with it accordingly. I plead the fifth (or whatever the English equivalent is) on my actions before 18 years old. I was a minor and have mostly apologised or made amends for any transgressions made during that period. As an adult I will own anything after that time. Any fallouts I may have had with people since then can be justified in my mind and I stand by whatever went down. #SayItWithYourChest

Over the years Dale has tried on many hats. He is the proverbial Mr Benn. On two occasions he tried on the councillor hat, and that was the cause of one of the issues I supposedly created for him.

Up until now, I can understand why you’d want to refrain from publicly forming an opinion on what I’ve written. Without posting every piece of proof I have it’s purely my word on the character of the ‘man’. Fortunately for me, he just can’t help himself.

Wait for it!

2015 was to be a memorable year for so many reasons, and this was definitely a highlight! Before I knew the true extent of his deeds and shit fully went down, I went round to visit my mum one sunshiny day. I pulled up, got out of my car and as I looked up I had to double take and make sure it was the right house I’d come to.

A huge, fuck off, purple and yellow sign was in my mums front room window, clearly displaying that its inhabitants were supporting UKIP! #UWhat

I made my way inside, upstairs and straight to the window to take that shit down! My mum had been diagnosed with dementia by then, but I was pretty sure even she wasn’t afflicted with the level of brain damage it would take to be Black and support them. I was right. That takes a truly special case.

When I walked into the kitchen I noticed a pile of flyers and picked one up. I know people say “I couldn’t believe my eyes!”, but that was really the case. Dales smiling face was looking back at me. He was standing as councillor of Chalvey for fucking UKIP. #UKOCK

Before this point I didn’t have a clue that that was the direction he was heading in. Not a scooby! Like the majority of Black households we were Labour supporters. That’s all I’d ever known. When I got old enough to vote I didn’t for the first few years. As far as I was concerned it was a load of bollocks. They all chatted breeze and came with false promises for better futures. I held fast, then Tony Blair managed to dupe me with promising “Things will only get better!” KMT!

I stopped again after that, and that was me until Brexit. After that shambles I made a promise to myself I am never voting again and I mean it. They’ve had their 3 strikes and even though they can’t decide what they’re doing, I’m well and truly out! #Brexodus

I spoke to my twin to find out whether he knew. He told me Dale had mentioned it to him just before the flyers and newspapers came out. Great! Now, I know everyone has a right to live their life and do what they want – but some manoeuvres you gotta question! Which is exactly what I did.

I called him and asked him if he’d bumped his fucking head. UKIP were rooted in racism, division and hate and he had his big Black face as their token poster boy. In CHALVEY of all places. WTF!? He blew it off and said that there were racists in all of the parties and he believed in their policies so didn’t have a problem with standing for them.

I highlighted the fact that he was preaching about immigrants and the immigration procedure and promising to clamp down on the issue, yet he was one of the people he was preaching about! How could he be so hypocritical? Did he think he was safe because he’d spent a bit of time over here? N***a please!

I tried hard to put my point across but it fell on deaf ears. He was a grown man at the end of the day and it was his decision. If he was comfortable that’s his business. I left him to it and that was it until a couple of weeks later when I bumped into someone in Asda.

She mentioned that Dale had canvassed her house and she’d seen an article in the local paper advertising who was standing for what party and was wondering if I supported them too?


There’s not a lot of things I feel I need to defend but THIS was one of them. He had mentioned his links with the church and our mothers name in the blurb on his flyers too, so there was no denying we were aquatinted, and also people might question who mum stood for as well. It was time for me to talk up.

I put a post up on Facebook clearly stating that he alone stood for that bullshit party and to my knowledge no other member of the family were affiliated with them. I made my feelings crystal clear!


I’m really not interested in hearing what excuses those particular fuckwits come up with as to why they choose to do so. Just miss me with the bullshit and know I think less of you for doing so. If you really wanted to make a change there are so many different and more palatable ways to go about it than to join and proudly stand for UKIP.

Dale obviously had no qualms about publicly putting his face out there and I felt the same way in publicly making it known what I was about. This however, didn’t go down well with brother dearest.

I was informed by a sibling that he told them I had been disrespectful and caused him shame and embarrassment by voicing my opinion. Yep, you read right. ME! I was the cause of his shame and embarrassment and I shouldn’t have put my beliefs out there. ME!!

Are Ufuckingkipping me!?! #UKUNT

Naturally there’s no shame whatsoever to be had in him putting his face on flyers and knocking on peoples doors begging for votes. There’s no embarrassment to be had at all in proudly plastering your face all over the place and backing such a party. Of course it’s all my fault because I didn’t show a united front or keep my mouth shut.

Alrighty then!

He managed to muster 343 votes that year, and in 2016 he once again stood for UKIP but representing Cippenham Meadows instead. I’m guessing he thought he could appeal more to the White masses, but managed less votes than the previous year at 229.

I’ve gotta laugh at the fact that he could put himself out there and knock on peoples doors to talk himself up, yet he didn’t have the front to speak to me about anything. Not the fact he was doing it or that he was upset by my post. Instead he decided to be a pussyhole and bitch about it to others. Judging by his character he would have fit in well if he had made it through. He has all the right attributes for that particular job.

Don’t put yourself out there if you’re not prepared to take what comes with it. You create your own problems when you choose to follow certain paths, and his choice to take the steps he did was just that – HIS CHOICE! Own it! I am not about pretending. If you’re looking for a muppet you can think again.

There are no strings on me!😉

R.I.P to all those who have lost their lives recently.

A HUGE congratulations to Dina Asher-Smith and Shelly-Ann Fraser-Pryce on your wins in the 100m. #BlackGirlMagic at its finest!

*One for the Harry Potter fans!

Am I My Brothers Keeper?, Stay Blessed & #CelebrateLife

Affairs Of The Heart

“The situation between myself and Dawn Williams has always been an issue, for whatever reason she has chosen to create problems for me…”

And we’re back to that line! We’ll be coming back to it a few more times still, but for now if you’ve read It’s A Family Affair you’ll have some understanding of today’s topic.

Sometimes life has a way of putting things in your path. In Disclaimer (Part 1) I spoke about signs of the star and mystic variety and the fact that I believe some signs we are meant to see. Dale would have you believe that my life is so boring I have nothing better to do than find myself all up in his business. Like most narcissistic sociopaths (he’s been upgraded), he fails to realise that HIS actions have consequences. Shit doesn’t just disappear because you choose to forget about it!

Back in ‘94 Dale started seeing someone. Our relationship at that point was ok. He had become a born again Christian (😐), attended church twice a week and he surprised the fuck out of me by dating a Black woman! Before then I knew he had dalliances with a few but as far as I was aware and seen, his preference was White women.

She was from Leicester and was lovely. I admit to being amazed he’d bagged her, but then again he does have the gift of the gab and was still fit and good looking so I could see her attraction I guess. She had been doing for herself before meeting him and had a young daughter. We got on really well and she was of Antiguan heritage too so that was an added bonus. We’d often travel up from Slough to go to the carnival or to just visit and were in regular contact – she was good people.

Being completely honest I’d hoped that she might have been the one to set him straight, but I can see now that was mission impossible; and at a time where I possibly held out a little hope he wasn’t a total cunt.

We both fell pregnant in ‘99, me having my eldest in October and her giving birth to my niece in January. By 2004 she got blinded by the light and they were over. I commend her for lasting nearly 10 years.

At that time Dale showed his true colours like you wouldn’t believe but that’s another tale for another day!

During the time of their relationship he was still in contact with his 2 sons from his failed marriage and had introduced them to their little sister. To say his eldest saw sunshine when looking at him is an understatement. His dad was his idol and they both adored him. They had been mostly shielded from the truth of what had caused their parents to split, apart from one encounter when the eldest was about 10.

He had been informed he had another brother and was obviously very upset. He asked his dad and he denied it and said it was all lies. His son naturally accepted it and moved on. Personally, I know he was a child at the time, but I believe it would have been better to tell him the truth. It’s not the truth people need protecting from – it’s the lies! Despite my beliefs, he’s not my child so I kept out.

Fast forward a few years and I’m bopping through Queensmere shopping centre, minding my own business, and I’m stopped by a woman who asked if she could speak to me. She wasn’t familiar to me and I thought she was going to try and sell me some kind of shit, so being the polite person that I am I listened first before shutting her down.

Well!! When she asked if I was Dawn my ears pricked up. I scanned for the lucky heather, and then when she asked if I was Dales sister I did a mental eye roll, inhaled and braced myself. She informed me that she had a daughter by him and wanted to let us know as Dale wasn’t acknowledging anything and she has a right to know who her family are.

It’s not every day you get a random come up and tell you these things. She didn’t look cray-cray but you never can tell, and she was mad enough to get pregnant by him so…👀 I asked a few questions, took her number and told her I would have to talk to my brother and would contact her once I’d done so.

By this time the incident in Antigua had already happened. I was fuming that he could carry on and treat mum the way he did and I’d written him a letter as he was still away to let him know how I felt. If you hadn’t noticed I’m a bit passionate like that. Funnily enough he didn’t appreciate it!

I got a phone call when he got back asking what I was doing sending him letters, so I said no worries, I’ll come and see him instead. I came to the house and explained exactly what my beef was and that was when he again reiterated that he did not get to live the life he wanted because he had to take care of us, and that I was disrespectful in sending him letters disregarding all his years of effort.

I totally understand, love and appreciate him for stepping up and would never do it down – but to say his life was ruined because of it is a little fucking rich. We were born in 1974 and he left home less than 10 years later and was not financially responsible for us way before then so, wtf!? It’s not like by then all of the best years of his life had gone. He would have been in his early twenties – hardly past his frigging prime! Were we seriously going to be held responsible for HIS life? It would appear so.

I left him to wallow in his self pity and we hardly spoke again after that. I really didn’t have time. I grew the hell up at 17 when I left. He was in his forties and still pining about missed opportunities. He had it better than I did as he was still living virtually bill free and rent free, working, running “businesses” and not taking care of any dependents. By this time his ass should have been out of the house a long time ago, but yet here he was, bitching. Fuck off! You can miss me with that bullshit.

Now I had to go and speak to him again after having this bombshell dropped at my feet. As you can imagine that went down well.

I came round to the house to talk to him. I explained the situation and he straight up denied it and tried to make out it was nonsense. I told him there had to be some truth in it. Women don’t usually approach others about these types of things without having some kind of certainty. He then admitted that he had slept with her once and that he knew for a fact that she was sleeping around with lots of other Black men so it was probably one of them.

I pointed out the fact that even if that was the case (which I highly doubt!), it still made him a contender in the baby daddy stakes and the only way to be sure was to take a DNA test. That’s when he lost it and shut it down. He didn’t need to do one because he knew, in my best Maury voice – he was not the father.

I called the woman back and told her what he’d said. She was adamant he was the father and I have to say I believe her – especially after seeing a picture of her daughter. But looks alone is not concrete evidence. Her mum spoke to her and at the time she wasn’t ready to deal with it, which I totally understood, but we have since been in contact. I know there is nothing on paper stating who she is but I’m not about to dismiss her because of it.

Even if it turns out she’s not his I wouldn’t view it as wasted time. What’s wrong with showing a little love regardless? I wish more people put as much effort into loving as they did fucking. The world would be a better place.

By this time his sons were adults and their relationship with their dad was ok but the shine had definitely diminished. We all still lived in the same town so I did what any logical thinking person would do and made it known that they possibly had another sister in Slough. I make no apologies for it. By this time she was nearly 16 and they were males. Shit happens, and I’d prefer it if it didn’t happen between siblings thank you. They took it well, I’m guessing they had already started a little chalkboard of their own!

A few years after that I’m sat at home, minding my own business, and the phone rings. It’s my fiancé. He’s in the barber shop and I’m not going to believe who he’s with. He said he walked in and there was a young man sat down and he looked exactly like Dale so he asked him his name.

It turns out that he was the son that was conceived whilst he was still married – and unbeknown to me at the time, the biggest sign the higher power was to send out!

I did not create any of these ‘problems’. HE CREATED PEOPLE! I wasn’t out digging into his business, I stepped in his shit. But unlike him I dealt with it instead of ignoring it and spreading it further. Because I did this I’m being accused of interfering in his affairs, and yet again I say, so be it.

It’s a family affair once kids are involved, and some of us actually recognise what that entails.

R.I.P to the young boy who passed away in Salt Hill Park and to all those who have lost their lives recently. We seriously need to find a way to combat the madness.

Congratulations to Jharrel Jerome on winning an Emmy for your magnificent portrayal of Korey Wise in When They See Us.

Congratulations to Jurgen Klopp on being named the Best FIFA men’s coach of the year! #YNWA

Dare To Care, Stay Blessed & #CelebrateLife

This was originally published a few years ago but is relevant reading for Tales Of The Dales.

Family. A bunch of people affiliated by blood, marriage or whatever. They can bring you joy, pain, sunshine and rain and this week I was reminded of that.

My impression of family doesn’t stop at the bloodline. It extends to anyone in my life who truly knows me, understands me and takes the time to show me. Someone who will be there by my side – ride or die!

We’re family as long as you do right by me and those around you. I don’t feel obliged to like you because we share blood and I’m not going to dismiss you because we don’t, but that’s just my interpretation. Of course there are plenty of others who don’t think that way. Some believe that being family gives them the right to say and do anything they please and because there is that invisible bond you are tied to their bullshit.

You shouldn’t dare open up your mouth and say anything. You respect them regardless of how they act, don’t talk your business and if anyone asks everything’s fine and all’s good in the hood – and you never bring shame on the family!! Unfortunately for some that’s not my belief.

I suppose it really boils down to what you class as shame. I’ll let you decide which is more shameful. When I was little I had a big brother who I idolised. I’d never known my dad and he was a great substitute. He was big and strong, good looking and popular and I really loved him……then I grew up and began to see people for what they are and I was no longer the little sister that adored him but a teenager that could actually see the real man behind the mask. Hence the start of our rocky relationship!

This is just one of many reasons why we don’t get along. I don’t know if it’s because I didn’t have a dad around but I’ve got a strong belief that if you’re going to have children you should do the job properly or if you can’t then make sure that they are provided for as best you can.

You may have noticed if you’ve read a few of my previous blogs, I’m kinda into my heritage and believe everyone has a right to know where they came from. It’s not so easy for a lot of us to find our true ancestors through so we need to hold on to what we do know and teach our children about where their roots lie. #RealTalk.

On Tuesday I had the pleasure of introducing my mum to her grandson for the first time in 25 years. It was a bittersweet meeting as she now suffers from vascular dementia so was unaware of the true capacity of it, but I believe had she been in her right body and mind it would have been a whole other story!

He’s the product of an affair, which means absolutely nothing to me in the shame stakes but a hell of a lot to certain family members. Nobody’s perfect, and as long as you put your hands up and own it that to me is less of an embarrassment than getting caught out there and denying shit that you know is true.

How you got here is neither here nor there – the fact that you exist is all that matters. At the time he was born I was only 16 and not ‘mixed up in big people business’ so didn’t know the full details. Fast forward 20 years and I got to know. But by me knowing, acknowledging and accepting I am looked down upon at welcoming him with open arms.

To some I’m seen as a traitor – I should be keeping it 100% legit! Others believe I’m just getting back at my brother by getting close to the son he denied for so long. Some just couldn’t give a shit and done got enough family!! – I hear you all, but you are you and I am me, and as much as I see where you’re coming from I’m having real trouble understanding it.

I’ve felt rejection from a parent and it’s not nice. My conscience would not allow me to walk away and disregard a person who didn’t ask to be here and wants to know to whom he belongs. How could I? How can people do it so easily? It’s needed – especially when people shit on their own doorstep and don’t man up about it! You can do your dirty deeds in the dark but when you donate sperm sometimes they pop out in the light!

Tuesday’s meeting should have happened decades ago and I am truly sorry he missed out on mums good years. If people had been open and honest from the beginning things may have been different. I’ve seen the damage lies and deceit cause which is why I only deal in real talk.

I made my intentions clear to my loved ones before even meeting my nephew for the first time and have been vilified by some for doing so, yet they would still expect me to show them respect. Despite who you are to me I cannot and will not respect you on the basis that we are family alone. You’ll get it when you give it.

I’m not ashamed to talk about it openly. There is no shame in standing up and saying a situation ain’t right. In fact if more talking had been done half the things that happened wouldn’t have gone down. I believe there is more shame to be had in ignoring it and trying to convince your family to ignore it too. That shame is all yours – you own it! You had an affair which is your business but when children are a by-product, IT’S A FAMILY AFFAIR so I won’t mind my own! I’ll mind the child you chose to forget!

R.I.P to all those who have lost their lives this week.

Congratulations Team GB, especially mo on your double-double.

Congratulations to Usain Bolt on your triple-triple (medals that is!👀😂)

Wo/Man Up!, Stay Blessed & #CelebrateLife