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

Disgusted

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 🙂

 

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Dating Dilemma

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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.

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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!

 

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FFFFFUUUUUUCCCCCKKKKK

Seriously…….
Sometimes I just want to ask people if they’d like me to suck their dick aswell. Seeing as I’m doing all this other shit for them #fuckinsigh
I get so dik sometimes. So fuckin gatvol of people just expecting kak. Like all the ma se poes time! & then I’m just suppose to fuckin roll with it. Pisses me the moer off man! I have my own kak to deal with. What kind of sick stupid motherfucker are you, that you can’t even google some kak for yourself? Huh? Why must you ask me? Is there virtually no one else in your life that will willingly and quietly deal with your kak? Huh? Yor bra!!!!!!! I’m fuckin surrounded by dick wads the whole ma se poes day. I do not need it when I leave work. I want some fuckin quiet where I can just stick my hand down my pants and finger away. I just want a bit of piece of quiet. A bit of cunt relief! Fffffuuuuuccccckkkkk! It’s so frustrating to be here. I just wanna lay on my tummy. Give my ass a break. Just ffffuuuucccckkkkk! Seriously just need to scream that into the fuckin universe………