A Diary From Noone

She spoke but no one heard, every scream seemed a whisper, and so she took pen to paper...

Tag: #bullying

coconut

At school,
I was bullied.
Bullied by the people that looked like me,
But didn’t act like me,
It was not my intention to be different,
Not an act,
Just a fact,
I think it is important to be yourself,
Not just follow like sheep,
Nor act like playing a part,
But to be an individual.
I’ve always been quite colour-blind really,
Favoured people for their behaviour,
Their humour,
Personality,
And interior,
Our connection,
Genuine sparks fly,
Because of chemistry,
A connection of souls,
What people look like meant nothing,
Means nothing to me,
Why should it?
How shallow!
Materialistic!
I like genuine bonds with genuine people,
That is natural to me,
But with lashings of ignorance,
A splash of resentment,
Dollops of hormones,
A lack of processing,
And sprinkles of judgement off my peers,
I was custard pied,
Rated as poorly baked,
Not adhere to certain standards,
Cast aside,
Ridiculed,
Criticized,
And patronised,
Left on the harsh receiving end of bullying.
The girls that looked like me,
The Black girls,
My sisters,
The girls that had the reputation of being tough,
With their,
“Don’t Fuck With Me” attitudes,
In this huge all girls school,
They did not take to me,
They fucked with me,
But fortunately only verbally,
Which was lucky,
As keeping up appearances,
With anyone that stood in their way,
They would fight,
And they would scrap.
They commanded respect,
By sticking togethering,
Dominating threat,
And casting fear to all that were not in their favour,
A purposeful segregation,
Forced entitlement cast by fear,
So powerful that no one would dare dispute,
They would silently force their way to the front of the dinner line que,
Come from nowhere and get on the bus before you,
And no one would complain,
We didn’t dare to.
Picking on me,
Perhaps because the majority of my friends were white,
Thinking that was odd and not right,
But is was just per chance,
Not a purposeful decision for me,
I just took preference of personality,
Open to friendship with anybody.
They would call me Coconut,
It upset me.
They called me a Bounty,
It upset me,
Meaning I was fake,
Black on the outside,
But white on the inside,
Stripping me of my identity.
At a young age it really confused me,
I was just doing me,
But that was apparently not good enough!
Insincere,
Was something I did not want to be,
Nor did I try to be,
I was,
I am proud of my heritage,
But living in the modern day,
Why create segregation,
Ostracise me,
Try to embarrass me,
It was ignorance that I ran from,
The mentality,
Not ones nationality.
Now I am thirty-four,
I clearly remember it all,
But now being older,
Looking back,
Upon reflection,
If that is the only insult that they could cast against me,
Really and truly,
They had no insult at all!
Think about the fruit,
Coconut,
It’s nutritious,
And delicious,
So,
You want to be narrow minded,
Call me a coconut,
I’ll take it,
There are much worse and harsher words,
More personal,
Less generic words that you could have used to bully me,
But the truth is,
They couldn’t find any,
Because I wasn’t at fault,
They were,
And they were clutching at straws!
Their insecurities!
Their uncertainties!
Their jealousies!
Projecting irrelevance,
And their labelling,
And their declarations upon me,
It was all about them,
Weak people find themselves by putting others down,
And they never look back,
Seemingly nonchalant,
Because they cannot face their own wrong doing,
They move on,
Leaving victims with irremovable scars,
Tainted memories,
And incurable insecurities.
If someone today called me a bounty,
A coconut,
Or in these days an Oreo,
I would just take it on the chin,
And own it,
Because to me,
They are all nice things,
Just like I am a nice person,
Sweet,
And most likely good enough to eat,
I shall ignore your ignorance,
And deny you defeat.
My advice to them would be,
Don’t worry yourself about me,
You do you,
And I’ll do me.
I shall not fester in others negativity.
So come on and do your worst.
I am Black,
I am dark skinned,
I am proud of my heritage and history,
I am free,
And will befriend anyone who shares a genuine connection.
Within me,
Regardless of ethnicity,
Because I only associate with purity,
Honesty,
Sincerity,
Kindness,
love.
Love comes with any and every colour,
None more better than another,
Let spite,
Judgement,
And hate evaporate,
Instead,
Let us see beauty within the rainbows of this world,
And celebrate in unity.

Me Too… No More!

Sticks and stones may break your bones,
But names will never hurt you,
That’s what they say,
Teach us from very young,
But that doesn’t mean it’s true!
There is evil in silence,
When used to manipulate you,
Great harm in words when used to belittle you.
Hands are meant to build things,
But can be used to break you.
We should not be played with,
Receiving physical,
Or emotional abuse,
Should not bring you shame,
Those that inflict it are to blame.
Sexual abuse,
Being forced into engagement,
Is never ok.
Consent is key,
We should never be made to feel like we have to obey.
Yet there are monsters out there,
That feed off inflicting pain.
That is not your fault.
What you have been made to endure does not make you weak.
You are stronger than you know.
You are a survivor.
I know it is not easy,
But they gain from our silence,
And can inflict more violence,
If we don’t speak out,
Call them out,
Then how can we help ourselves?
Help others?
You have endured the worst,
You are stronger than you know.
It takes great courage to admit such woes,
But there lies the key,
To break the chains,
And let you go,
You are stronger than you know!

Be mindful of what you do and don’t say…

They say,
“Sticks and stones may break your bones but words and names will never hurt you!”
Yet for me this is untrue,
And there should be no shame in admitting it,
If it is also truly untrue for you too.
When freedom of speech may be tainted and scorn.
Words fired at me with cruel intent,
Scorch me like a dragons flame,
Words unsaid leave me puzzled,
My tortured brain in overdrive whilst trapped in a maze of weighted silence,
And words shot from ignorance,
Are like a sharp and forceful stab in my back.
Words are underrated,
And name calling is cruel,
Together,
Or equally strong alone,
Powerful,
Meaningful tools,
The zest of language,
And communication,
When used with bitter content,
They may not break bones,
But they can and indeed do break hearts beyond repair!

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