I am…

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I am a black woman.

Words that I never really thought about before.

I was always trying to distance myself from it. Market myself as just a woman.

Why should my race have anything to do with who I am? We are all equal right? Race is nothing other than a social construct?

Ha like fuck it is! Race is real people. I live, breathe, bleed race. I am a black woman.

Now more than ever I truly see the beauty of who I am. I am done living in shadows hiding myself. Self hating. Wishing I was something else. I am done hiding behind my hands and seeing the reality of what is happening in the world. Ignoring it. Pretending that it’s not true. That it’s too far away to affect me. That it’s not my problem.

Well it is! It is real and it is happening. For too long people who look like me, who are like me, have been robbed. Robbed of their opportunity to rise, to live, to exist.

Now more than ever I know who I am. Never again will I hide myself. Try and blend in. I want the world to see me. To see us. To see we.

I am a black woman.

I am black!

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Writer’s Corner: Confession


I want you all to hear my confession.

My name is Zainab and I am a creative.

I was born to create. Art excites me. Music excites me. Words and stories get me high.

I don’t want to be ashamed of who I am anymore, I want the truth to be known. I want to be proud of who I am!

I don’t want to fit into a box. I don’t want to be part of the norm, a cog that keeps society running smoothly. That’s not me!

I want to be at one with my creativity!

I need to be me! I’m tired of pretending to be someone I’m not.

I want to sit in the dark listening to music with tears streaming down my face and not feel weird about doing it.

I want to lose myself in stories that are not my own.

I want to experience the euphoria that only comes from embracing the world that I belong in.

My name is Zainab and that was my confession, thank you for listening.

Writer’s Corner – Me Again


I’m suffocating, drowning in this non-existence.

I want to scream at the top of my lungs. I want to punch every wall, kick every door.

I want to have a purpose, have some form of validation.

I want to exist. I want a reason to live.

I don’t want to be this invisible loner, lying here decaying.

I want my energy back, my spark.

I want to smile again, laugh until it hurts but still can’t stop.

I don’t want to be trapped here anymore. Stuck with my own thoughts as company; my captive and torturer.

I want this dull pain to stop. I want to rip it out of me. I want to throw it around, beat on it the same way it beats on me. I want to show it that I’m the one in control now.

I want to be me again.

Writer’s Corner: Night Notes – Nose


Most say that it’s the eyes that they first fall in love with. But for me it was your nose, your beautiful strong nose.

I saw that nose and I knew. I knew that you were the one that I wanted to be with; that you were my forever person.

You were standing in a crowd of people and the only thing I could see was you. It was like you had this silver glow around you, a glow so strong that it filtered everyone else out. Blanked out their faces. All I could see was you and all I wanted was you.

I took a deep breathe and made a beeline towards you, making sure that I didn’t spill the drinks that were carefully balancing on my hand. Oh how I hated balancing shit on my hand. It was a massive pet peeve for me. Every move that I made had to be calculated, there was no excuse for error, not with me.

All I wanted to do was sashay up to you. Hypnotise you with my swaying hips, but this blasted drinks tray that was balancing on my hand was keeping me from doing this.

Instead I sheepishly sidled up to you. At first I didn’t say anything. I just sort of hovered there, half expecting you to turn around, knock the tray onto the floor, sweep me into your arms and take my breathe away with your kiss. That strong nose of yours battling with my own.

But you were so engrossed in your conversation with the lady with the synthetic wig, that you didn’t even notice that I was there.

Finally I built up my confidence and opened my mouth to offer you a drink. Without looking my way you waved me off. Deflated I headed back to my starting position. The blasted drinks tray feeling heavier than ever before.

I watched you all night. You never left your spot. I served countless blank underserving faces. But not you. Not once did you look my way.

After the final drink was drunk and the final canapé was eaten, with a heavy heart I left.

As I waited outside for my cab to arrive, thoughts of our future life, our house, our kids, little trips to the beach and picnics in the park plagued my head.

I checked my phone for the umpteenth time, for the status of this cab that was supposedly only 5 mins away; and then suddenly there you were.

Time stood still, the noises around me on pause.

You asked me for a light and as a non-smoker who keeps a lighter in her bag for such occasions I produced you with one.

You sparked up and I felt my heart flutter and beat back to life. Your voice melting my insides as you spoke of your distaste of evenings such as this.

You asked me my name and 10 minutes later we knew each other’s hopes and dreams.

A notification that my driver had cancelled on me propelled me back to the living and the fear of not being able to get home from the north of London to the south of London sent shockwaves through me.

As if sensing my fear you offered to share a cab with me, only because you were going in that direction anyway and how you could never leave a damsel in distress.

The cab pulled up and we both got in and thus began the greatest love story ever told.

Writer’s Corner: Morning Pages – You


So today I decided that I would start doing writing challenges to get over my slump and writer’s block and be more active with my writing.

Today’s challenge was to write in the second person perspective.

This surprisingly felt very natural, and it was exciting writing in a narrative that I’ve never tried before.

….

You stand there, in the middle of the floor, the lights from above illuminating your skin. Your eyes burn fiercely as you spot him. “Oh nothing spesh, just chilling at home,” replays in your head as you watch him whining hard on some girl who is the polar opposite of you.

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Writer’s Corner: Morning Pages – Your Smile

A smile can tell a thousand words. Well your smile can tell a thousand more. In fact your smile can tell a story, a whole book.

When I see that huge smile creep up on your face, a sense of calmness runs through me. It makes me feel safe.

I want to wrap myself in the comfort blanket of your smile. Dance in this moment forever.

Writer’s Corner: Night Notes – Mermaid

I don’t want to do the things that humans usually do or want to do. I don’t want to laugh and I don’t want to cry.

I don’t want to talk to anyone, not even to myself. I just want to lay in the cocoon that is my bed and watch back to back episodes of nothing.

I don’t want to bath, I don’t want to clean my teeth. I don’t want to change my underwear, I don’t want to wash my face. I just want to lay here listening to the steady drum of my heartbeat.

I haven’t combed my hair in weeks.

Sometimes I dream that I’m on a beach, the sun beats down on me, a slight breeze wraps itself around me as I walk towards the water. I feel the sand crumble under my feet, I can feel every grain.

The coolness of the water is the first thing that I can sense. I want to wade all the way in until it takes over me. 

Instead I stop when the water is ankle height. I inhale the saltiness. I close my eyes and envision myself as a mermaid, but when I open my eyes I’m face to face with the mould splattered grey wall that greets me every morning after my 4 hours of sleep.

Writer’s Corner: Finger Guns

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When your back is turned I like to throw up my fuck you fingers. I keep throwing them up until a sense of euphoria trickles through me. It makes me feel powerful.

Most times I do it when I’m not in the same room as you. But on the odd occasion I like to do it when you’re near. The adrenaline kicks through me, will you turn around when I’m halfway through and catch me at it?

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