You Deserve More

I am proud of you
You need to know that
Not that you don’t know that already but as Facebook keeps on regurtitating memories upon my sad soul
I can’t help but become emotional and sentimental about how small you once were
I often joke that you would stay small and get back in my belly; then atleast I’d have a real reason for having this big rolling mag
You deserve more than this life
More than feeling less than
You deserve love and happyness
Endless bounds of it
I wish I could give it to you all
The knowledge to not follow that boy to the ends of the Earth but also the knowledge that you have to make mistakes and get hurt to learn
You deserve more than mediocre, because you, my love are worth 1 hundred million thousand
You deserve only the sunshine, even peaking through the dark stormy clouds
You deserve to be loved immensely and then hurt deeply
The good and alot of the bad
Knowing that at any minute you can turn around and I’ll be right there
Being your mother makes me proud
You being my child makes me proud
If “Mother” is the only title I ever have in this earthly life, I am ok with that
No matter what other’s say
You dear Zineah have brought so much joy into the life of others’
You are loved beyond compare
By people you don’t even know
You deserve more than the little love I have to give
Because of you, I am who I am
A Mother
A Provider
I love you Zineah

May you never forget that

The word “Coloured” and why I hate it

Recently my family and I have started this ritual, in the spirit of being healthy; we try to walk a few times a wekk. A 30 minute walk / jog. It’s fun. I sweat. I pain. It’s for a good cause though (you’d understand if you ever saw in the light). But this post is not about the eternal train of wanting – to – lose – weight, this is about the ever popularised and overused term; “Coloured”

To say I identify as a Coloured would only be because that is what I have been told and from the area I have been raised; “Coloured” is the first and most natural bracket I have been put into.

I have been called

  • too white for Mitchells Plain
  • too sturvy because I am unfamilar with the wordings of my people

People have even gone as far as to say, “Are you sure?” when I tell them I have lived my entire life in the thriving drug and gang stricken community of “The Plain”

Do I get offended when I hear the term “Coloured”? NO

I do however, hate it and all the negative conotations associated with that ACI status

I am not white

I am not black

I am Coloured

  • Low level
  • Crass
  • Unintelligent

This not only what people say but how people look at me, I see the judgement in your eyes and that version of Coloured infuriates me

As soon as I loudly identify as Coloured; without a second thought I get asked to perfom stranger CCA’s (Coloured Circus Acts)

  • speak like one of them
  • say something Coloured

And then, what words do you use?

The favourite and one they always look forward to is PK

*please note that at the time of these CCA’s, I worked for a predominantly white owned company (I am not racist, just stating the facts) where it was of unheard of to still be calling your parents “Mommy” and “Daddy”, to still be living at home at 25 and to be living somewhere other than Claremont / Rondebosch

The term “Coloured” irks me even though we have Youngsta, Paxtion Fielies, Wayde van Niekerk and Craig Lucas (he is Coloured, right?) ; the sort of low level Coloureds or non TV Coloureds are still seen as kak

I am a proud Coloured girl from the Plain

I am not proud of the filthy language we use, the way we are so easily mocked and how we willingly make clowns of ourselves

I am a proud Coloured girl with a mom hailing from Lavender Hill and a dad from Manenberg

I am not proud of the way we are exploited and how the term “Coloured” is so loosely thrown around like the tik injected into our children’s veins

I am a proud Coloured girl always being told “you’re too white for Mitchells Plain but too coloured for Constantia” , as if that was some sort of compliment

I am not proud because I a writing this

Admitting that I am offended by the term “Coloured”, the term i so closely relate to; is not a good thing

Leaves me as if I am not apart of anything

As f I don’t belong

It is not a proud moment but as I bowed my head in shame when, what I assume was a drug laden gent, shouted across the field “Fiekie jou naai”; I realised that that version of Colouredness, although colourful #punright is not the version of Coloured I have ever wanted to be associated with

Perhaps it is because I am my harshest critic and worst judge

<when the one rotten apple lies in the basket too long: do we also turn brown on the inside?>

Here's An Interesting Title, Now Click On It

Good Morrow Fellow Humanoids and welcome to weight up Wednesday! I just made that up. It is not weight up Wednesday because, seriously, who wants to be reminded of how much weight they still need to lose mid week & nogals on the infamous Steers Wacky Wednesday. Now, I’ve noticed that I have started to steer more to the “finished English” and steered away from the most likely reason people have followed & liked my blog. So, for today, I will try to steer away from my attempt at whatever the hell “Finished English” is and be a bit more, what society would deem, normal.

Awe ma se kind! LOL, OKAY! Not that unfinished!!!!

But seriously mense, waar is die liefde?

I sat in bed last night, under 3 blankets, with 2 jackets on and I was STILL getting cold. Now imagine, the fellas on the streets? I know. I know. Money is tight, blah blah blah but what if you were to save up all your pennies and dinges and give that to me as a donation or on your next shopping trip just pop a sakky pads in your trolley. No harm. No foul.

I am not asking for a lung or a kidney (I know if I was, I’d be dead right now). I am asking for a little. A fingernail. A small bietjie. Let’s teach the laatjies that there people who don’t have a toasty fireplace, who only have 1 blanket. Let’s pull them from their screens & let them help make that care package & butter that bread. Our society is too mal too think we can shield them from the downward spiral it is heading in. 

Think. Do. 

*for all my overseas mense, I apologise for the terminology but just quickly go onto Google & type in “Afrikaans to English Translator” and all the words you don’t know (the non english terms), just pop it in & learn away!

For aesthetics, here’s a picture of me,and then a collage of my snapchat adventures with my daughter last night

I hope you’ve made it this far down the post & now I shall be expecting my phone to BLOW up – 079 861 9603

Let’s Not Get It Twisted

It’s crazy how much I miss her even though I saw her a few hours ago
It’s crazy how I want a picture of her just to see if anything has changed
It must be madness that I can’t wait to leave in the morning but then when I get to work, I yearn to be with her

Continue reading “Let’s Not Get It Twisted”


This post will be short & sweet

A revelation o f sorts

Today I had a look into a full length mirror

At myself

The fat me I am not able to see in my basic ass mirror

A size 14

One child

27 years old

I saw all my bodily imperfections

“Is this what I look like?”

“Is this what you all see when you look at me?”

I know my face is fat and I know I need to lose a few, but that glimpse, that momentary glimpse was all I needed, internally, to lose my fuckin shit

I went batshit crazy, in my head, silently

I had a revelation

Things bulging and bouncing when I wasn’t moving an inch

Things hanging where they should be taunt but not tight

I should look like what I think I should but I should not look like this

I should be proud of what I look  like naked but even I wouldn’t want to sleep with myself

I was disgusted

I am disgusted

I need to make a change

This is not one of those “I will diet for the first week of January 2016”

This is an realisation

My naked body in a full length mirror is fuckin revolting & I am not looking for sympathy

I am looking for you to recognize that this is the first time I have seen myself naked, completely

I wanted to throw something at that mirror

To crack it

Clearly with a belly so big, so sucking in is not working

Something needs to happen

Something needs to change

I have to stick to my words

I have gotten much bigger than what I was a year ago and even though I might never be as pretty as I want or as thin as I want ; I know I can start somewhere


Not so much of a rant post but thanx for reading


Here’s a Christmas tree for the time I’ve wasted 🙂



GhostWriter | A Poem For Sam From Me

Sam wanted to be ravaged
She’d been alone for too long
She needed someone to pull her hair and bite her neck
She craved a manly, rugged touch
She wanted nothing more than to be taken from the back
To the back
Pulled into a dark abyss where fantasy was as she imagined
She needed to be punished
For what? She did not know
She needed to be choked as she came
Sam needed to be ravaged
She was closed off
She was closed down
Sam needed to be looked at
Sam needed to be explored
She had a desire for the unwanted
The unhinged
To be lustfully taken
Forcefully taken
A kiss so rare and dangerous that even she would run scared
Sam needed to become unhinged
She needed to be free
Embodied with yours
Sam wanted your mouth to engulf her most intimate parts
She wanted you to become one with her
She needed you to stay there
Stay here
Sam craved your attention
She sought your lonely heart
Your wandering hands
Sam needed you to be her
She needed you to be her
Sam wanted you to be him
She wanted you to be him
She loathed what you did to her
She loved how you did it to her
She no longer wanted anyone else
She craved your kisses
She longed for your eyes
Sam was sold
On you
For you
Sam was sold
Into this fanatasy
Still alone
Still lonely
Sam was sold
You bought a lonely heart
You bought a sad heart
You bought Sam
Sam needed to be ravaged
Sam wanted to be ravaged
But not hurt

Guess I’ll just POP in :)

So, as a mommy blogger; I have not been blogging much

I just have no content ; nothing and I refuse to spit out random spew to please the masses

Now, what I meant by “masses”; was all 3 of you that even bother to read the blog

Hell, I could be over here cursing and being filthy as fuck and no one would even care…..would ya?

This post is just to say that I have NOT forgotten about you, yes, all 3 of you who are skimming over this post J

I am still here

I am still alive

I am just busy and unfortunately, my blog is not TOP priority right now………….and that’s ok 🙂



On that note, I would like to know ONE thing you would like to achieve in 2016…..and I will NOT accept anything about dieting etc

Mine? Getting my driver’s license



Dating Dilemma


So, I have been single for about 2 years and I have a daughter
In recent months, my mother has been on my case to find someone. The more I try and convince this lady, that I am happy and that I am not looking, the more she persists.

This weekend:
Mother: What happens if someone named David comes up to you and says he in interested in you?
Me: *most skeptical look on this side of the world* Why does his name have to be David?
Mother: Just answer the question!
Me: But why David? Is that like the ideal name?
Mother: Agh, it’s just the first name I thought of
Me: I’ll probably say “NO, THANK YOU”
Mother: *gives me the side eye*
Me: Well, if it happens, I hope that you’ll walk away
Mother: Ya, I will. That man must just break through your stubbornness!
Me: I’m not stubborn!
cue laughter

Also, my mother has been going to the same hairdresser for years, and just this past weekend, even the hairdresser wanted to know if I was still single.

My colleagues, also believe that I should just get surprised with a man. No blind date set ups. Just “spontaneous”

Ya right!



The last 7 years… a nutshell


This post is a “spin off” on the previous post. The last 7 years of my life in a nutshell……………really

I’ll try and remember the small details and the not so important details. I’ll give you the just of my past ; and a glimpse into my future

I met my ex (daughter’s sperm donor #killmenow #backlash #spermdonor) in September 2010.
October 2010 we were dating.
December 2010, I was pregnant
January 2011, I had a miscarriage.
February 2011, he got me a puppy
If memory serves me right, we moved to JHB in 2011, for 3 months
I distinctively remember September 2011. At Stones in Claremont, had a drink and had the WORST tummy pains ; convinced I was losing the baby we were so desperately trying for
December 2011, went to the Dr and found out I was officially pregnant
May 2012, gave birth to my gorgeous daughter
May 2013, celebrated her first birthday
11 November 2013 I ended things with him. I remember this day because it is my mom’s birthday. My birthday is the 17 November; and that was the first year in all the years that we were dating that he ever bought me something. 2 cakes and the promise of a R100 at month end.
PLEASE KNOW, I broke up with him on the phone. He was in the USA and persistent as fuck and I just got lekker gatvol
August 2014 took #spermdonor to court for maintenance ; and he paid for about 2 months and then came th excuses
October/September 2014 he came to talk to me about seeing Zineah more ; that’s all it was……..just talk
To date? 01 December 2015…………..he has not seen her. She has defiently declared, in the shopping mall, that she does not have a daddy. Only a mommy. It is not my fault. I will not be blamed. He knows he is more than welcome to see her and at this point, I really don’t think he should
I have informed him that I want Sole Guardianship; he has said he will not fight me
So please, if you know of a lawyer who will do my case pro bono or atleast at a cheaper or more affordable rate.
Seriously…….I’m sure you must know of someone