Dear Moment

Completely unexpected and fuelled with menstrual pain, I had a disgusting self loathing moment earlier this week.
Amongst other ridiculous claims, I said the words “I don’t mean **** all to anyone.” I immediately felt like slapping myself as soon as the words left me lips.
I even managed to get permission to leave the school premises for my afternoon PPA time as I said the words “I NEED to leave this place.” I came back after an hour and a slice of chocolate cake.

I don’t care what skinny people say, chocolate and food ( namely chips) DO make everything better.
Back in opal fruit days, the self loathing/self destruction would have lasted weeks…possibly months.
So, whilst it isnt a ‘hip hip hooray’ moment, im chuffed with myself for getting over it quite quickly (4 hours is record time!) Oh and chocolate cake defo helped, it wasn’t even a nice slice of chocolate cake but yeh.
I have subconsciously left all my books at school, so no marking. I have eleventy billion other things to do but I don’t want to do them, so I won’t. 
I want to bake cookies, not biscuits…cookies.  Odd. 

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Dear Woke

I don’t get why some (very few) ‘woke’ message spreaders ( what?) feel the need to be so rude and harsh and use such crude language.

Dude, I get it, the world is an awful place for a lot of people, it kind of always has been.

If you successfully managed to create a social media platform, rather than spread more hate, as that’s all you’re doing by belittling and swearing at every ‘entitled white person’, why don’t you help the oppressed?

You may do that, Allah knows best, but all I see/read is rude, harsh and a lot of swearwords.

Maybees they woke snowflakes? 

P.s I will blog about anything to avoid marking books.

Dear NYE

NOTHING IS NEW! Seriously all that changes is 1 digit. Ain’t nobody got time to ‘celebrate’ that.
My uncle is ‘hosting’ a NYE party and expected me to stay down South for it. No fanks pet. I know that any invitation to yours actually means ‘stay in the kitchen and cook all day and then spend the next day cleaning up.’ No please or thank you.

We dont do that anymore.

The real reason is slightly two fold.

First fold (this does not make sense…yet I have no desire to change it) – my new year is September. That’s when I get ‘new’. This night actually means nowt.
Second fold – two years ago when I was on my idaat during this period, youse all went to a NYE party and left me all alone…didnt even bring food back for me.

If you can’t want me when im broken, you can’t have me when im fixed. Simples.

Oh, third fold – I have a chest infection yet have travalled nearly 1000 miles up and down the country in just 6 days and me back hurts cos ive had to sleep in 5 different beds. Omg. Ive stayed in 5 different houses in 6 days. What a hobo.

Dear Loyalty

It’s taken a while…a lot of tears and a lot of WTF moments but iv most definitely learnt the most important lesson I thought I didnt need.

Loyalty isn’t for any man/woman/parent/sibling/human.

Loyalty is for God and God alone. He is just. If we expect Him to be just towards us then we too must be just. Right and wrong/ black and white. That’s it. There’s no grey. Or is it gray. I can never remember the British spelling.😕

It’s tricky isnt it…not fearing people anymore. You have to balance the difference between being a good person and being a people pleaser. 

Obviously, like all learning, this too comes with relentless lessons. 

Loyalty needs loyalty innit.

Dear Uterus

Our learning journey this half term is ‘celebrations’ cos Christmas innit.
In order to fill the void before it is acceptable to use glitter every day, I decided that this next week we will celebrate new arrivals aka babies!
Five of the mams are pregnant and 2 of the mams have just had babies so it made sense as its not Eid or Diwali and ain’t nobody getting married!
I ordered new babies…babies of colour, as we only had white babies in school and that’s unacceptable.
The deputy head teacher’s mam knitted a ton of baby clothes for us to use and parents have donated unused nappies, baby bottles, clothes, baths and such.
Ive even planned a baby shower, where we will decorate baby biscuits and play games.

It sounds fun right. 

My uterus is already crying. Damn it. Damn it to flipping…wherever damned things should go!
Dear Uterus, God knows, leave it with Him.
Please stop crying.

Dear Anger

I could have done with an ‘anger translator’ this week. 
Hormones? Or just generally fed up of smiling when dealing with ridiculousness?
Who knows.
I read a really interesting article about ‘self love’ and what it really means.  Made me reflect upon my own definition of self love.

At the onset of my self love journal, it was all about praying on time, daily dikr and saying no without overly justifying myself.

Now, its all about buying whatever makes me happy and indulging in expensive skin care.
Not good.
I need to recheck self love. 

Dear Respect

my accountability.

Simple isnt it. Im accountable for what you do(n’t do). Im accountable for what your team (cry about). Im accountable for every “no” you shout about. And you know the best bit…I aint even getting paid for it!!
I am not paid to wipe the **** of an entitled 25 year old who brings nowt but tears, whine and a bag full of tuts to the table.
I have to do stuff I dont like.
I dont say “no”, if I ever do say “no”, I give reasons, and show what im going to do instead. Not only do I show it, I prove my way was better (cos it is). 
When you say “no”, you cry. Cry and do nowt else until you get what you want.
Well… not anymore pet! 
Im ready to be the ***** you think I am.

Im not really. I care about those kids too much.  They dont deserve this.