Posted in Blog, Mental Health

My Mother & I (Parentification)

My mind is spinning, and I’ve tried to do some mindfulness; I’ve tried listening to music. I cannot even contemplate reading. I have so many questions that my inner- child needs answering; that only my mother can answer, so I’m waiting for her to call (I’ve sent her a message, I’m not just idly sitting by the phone).

Black women are forced into adulthood so rapidly, that we leave childhood behind without a chance to say goodbye. It’s all the more brutal when there is abusive involved. We are forced into an adult role before our time, while still within our childhood years, in order to help out a parent. Psychology calls this “Parentification”. Therefore, although I’ve now had many years to find an adult identity, my inner-child is still screaming for answers:

Why did my parents have me? Neither of them were psychologically capable of parenthood; So why?


Why didn’t my mother deal with her trauma, in order to allow us to then deal with mine together? 


Why does my mother deny my abuse? My pain? She confirms my anger, yet constantly denies my own trauma. 


My mother has never shown me any gratitude for being the adult she needed. Her response has always been:

“Well I never asked you to”. 

She’s never shown me any appreciation for my sacrifices. When I use the word “appreciation“, I do not mean being thankful or regarding me as her saviour; I mean showing a true understanding of the situation we were in: that I was a child who was being abused by her father, yet I heard my mother being abused simultaneously, therefore, I would sit up each night listening to make sure my mother was still alive. Then when my father walked out, I was forced to step up and never got to have a life of my own. I never got to deal with my own trauma, or my own struggles either (don’t forget that I was living in a religious home at the time, privately struggling with my feelings of queerness).

Speaking to a close mutual friend a couple of days ago, it’s pretty clear that my mother may not only ever accept the parentification I was subjected to, she may also ever appreciate the sacrifices of my inner-child. During our last conversation, she blamed previous generations for mistakes made and the impact this has had upon us on a family, because there is clearly a pattern of the same mistakes of abuse, being made over-and-over-and-over again, to which I replied:

“well then you lot shouldn’t have had children”.


She couldn’t argue with me then.

One final point I need to make: this close mutual friend mentioned that my mother rarely speaks about my father, or the abuse she suffered from him. This is one of my mother’s best friends. I call this woman Aunty – in fact, she’s like a mother to me. I go to her for guidance and advice as well as laughter and appraisal. She also constantly tells me off for swearing on social media!

My mother has known this lady for almost two decades.

My mother has been using it as an abusive weapon against me that I do no talk to her, when all this time hasn’t even been talking to her best friend. I knew that she did not talk to me (she became more restrained as I grew older), however I thought that it was for a number of reasons (e.g.manipulation), however I am surprised.

Yesterday, I went to an event on Self-Care for Black Women – which I will do a separate post on – and as Black women, we do carry a lot of pain because we don’t want to allow ourselves to feel it. Pain is so normal for us, we’ve actually forgotten to recognise its symptoms. We also do not talk to our own peers enough. My mother was subjected to abuse by her family as well as her husband, but she was coming to me for a listening-ear instead of people her own age.


Image source

Do not stop talking Black women, as long as you are talking to the right people. 





Posted in Blog

Victory! Taking Control of my Epilepsy Healthcare As a Black Woman

Following the back and forth exchange between my Epilepsy Nurse and I, we scheduled an appointment to discuss my concerns, so I went in to see them last Wednesday 14/3.

My consultant was sulky that I’d misspelt his name in my email exchange, which I apologised for, however like a petulant child he wouldn’t let it go! I couldn’t work out if he was joking around or not, so I told him to get over it, people misspell mine all the time (which is true, even my Christian name – all throughout Secondary school, my Physics teacher even insisted on rudely mispronouncing it). Furthermore, in my mind, we weren’t there to discuss the misspelling of his name. Plus I’d already apologised, what more did he want? I felt like he was trying to distract me. Not guna happen matey.


Even though Keppra on its own, and on high doses, made me psychotic, I think I’ve grown to hate Zonisamide the worse, because it’s taken my words away from me. Zonisamise is also known as Zonegran, and some of its side-effects are speech problems and word association (in speaking and writing), which I brought up during my previous appointment in October last year, but felt this was dismissed by my consultant, which I found incredibly distressing. My consultant brought this up, because he’d seen the email I’d sent to my nurse and he was offended (the causcasity!) to which I replied:

“Mate you were on your computer during the appointment, while the nurse did all the talking and you barely said two words to me. That’s dismissive.”

He conceded.  He then apologised and said that the clinic had overrun and he’d been trying to catch up on work, was stressed but that was no excuse to take it out on me.


We then agreed that we would ween me off of the Zonisamide and see them again in six weeks’ time. When I return, they’ll have a new medication recommendation for me and I’ll also be coming off the Keppra too (woo).

This has been distressing for me, because it’s like I’ve had a stroke, and I’m a baby and an old woman all rolled into one. After beginning Zonisamide, I’ve had to relearn how to write (I thought this was due to the tonic clonic seizure I had back in June last year, but now I think it’s down to the effects of the medication). Furthermore, I find conversations are incredibly difficult as usually I’m an eloquent person; the word is there, but there’s a blockage. It’s incredibly frustrating. Hopefully, my speech and writing will return back to normal soon.

Vitamin D

He [the consultant] wanted to argue that there was no causation, in other words: low vitamin D levels do not cause epileptic seizures. My response was that this is not what I am saying; what I am saying is that according to the study there is a correlation between low levels of vitamin D and seasonal seizure activity, which means that I as a Black patient should be taking vitamin D boosters during the winter. This was proven by a recent blood test, which confirmed that my vitamin D levels were significantly low and I’ve been prescribed boosters. I’ve also been keeping a diary which shows an increase in seizure activity during the winter months. However, the Nurse argued that the NHS are reluctant to prescribe vitamin D boosters to people of colour anymore because it’s too expensive, even though we need it. And even if I can prove that it relates to seizure activity in people of colour, this won’t make any difference either. And unfortunately I believe her, because I had the same issue with the flu jab last year. The GP wouldn’t give it to me even though I could prove that Epilepsy is affect by influenza. It’s madness.

All I can do I guess, is try to get as much vitamin D as possible through D and over-the-counter supplements.

But considering I am a Black woman living in a country with hardly any sun, with a chronic condition which is proven to be affected by low vitamin D levels, it is madness that I should be refused vitamin D on the NHS.


Posted in Blog, Mental Health

Divine Intervention: Black Mental Health & Coltan

Thursday was wild. I’ve signed up to a Tutoring agency and yesterday was my first session with a student but I’m sick with a cold. I spent the entire day in bed and the session was booked for 5pm. I didn’t want to cancel, so I booked an Uber to take me to the student’s house. There was surge pricing (bastards), but I had no choice, so already I’m out of pocket.

The driver’s a brother. Cool. We start chatting. I tell him I’m on my way to work and I’m a tutor but my main thing is actually I’m a student in Mental Health and Psychology. He asks what I want to do with that, and my reply is that I want to be a therapist, because I have a special interest in Cultural Psychology and Racism.

His interest is piqued.

Uber Driver: “Racism?” 

Me: “Yeah.” 

He explains that he’s been doing his own research in to racism. We began to talk about how the English and Americans like to meddle in international affairs, mess around in their conflict and then paint an ugly picture it to the rest of the world, and he asked me if I would call that racism. I said 100% yes sir. 

He asks where I’m originally from (St. Lucia), and then he responds with his life story. Now if you know me in real life, usually I don’t appreciate a life story (I have a short attention span LOL). But this is phenomenal.

This guy’s name is Jean-Louis and he’s from the Democratic Republic of Congo where the mineral Coltan is mined – the mineral which is used in mobile phones and laptops. Coltan is traded in conflict in surrounding countries such as Rwanda.

According to this article by Ciara Torres-Spelliscy, Blood on Your Handset (2013), money from minerals sold, is being funded back into the violence of the war and kept from the people. There is a strong image that Africans are prone to guerilla-type tactics, when it comes to warfare and this has nothing to do with any International influence whatsoever. You can also seem to find evidence of this in William G. Thom’s article on the Congo-Zaire Civil War conflict. This is untrue, unfair and racism.

Who is funding this violence?


Who is supplying the arms?


Who is whispering into the ears of the enemies?

And all of this stems back to colonialism and slavery…

People were also forced to flee their countries and cross the borders into the surrounding countries for refuge, such as the Democratic Republic of Congo, causing conflict – Jean-Louis told me that the number of people probably the population of St Lucia have been murdered in his country and I believe him. This is ALL BECAUSE OF INTERFERENCE BY THE WEST.

I’ve often wondered what the psychological impact has had upon these people, after what they have lived through, seen and done. I was in Secondary school during one of the wars in Rwanda and Sierra Leone in the late nineties, where refugees fled to the UK and I went to school and Church with some of these people and of course their accounts were very different to what was shared in the media. I often wonder how they deal with their PTSD in adulthood in the UK, which is something Jean-Louis and I discussed, because they would be angry about their past traumas, but have nowhere to express that anger, so instead of therapy which would provide a safe space to express their pain, they would be incarcerated or sectioned. This is racism. This then also has a cyclical psychological and mental health impact upon generations of Black children, which is not being dealt with.

Jean-Louis assures me that the land is not poor; the Democratic Republic of Congo is surrounded by rainforest and therefore, is fertile and self-sufficient. This links back to the lie from the “Blood on Your Handset” article, that the people from the Democratic Republic of Congo are using violence to populate money to fund for food, when in actual fact, they are living on fertile land already and are being forced against their will to work for tax purposes and to sell coltan to the West. That is racism.

After all of this meddling, what is left?

Broken Black people. That is what is left.

And the next time you hear somebody telling you that racism is over, get over it, show them this piece please and tell them to fuck off.


Posted in Blog

“I’m Half Dutch and White, Hear My Tears”… URGH [We DO NOT Love Holland, Pt2]

My previous post on Amsterdam was quite a hit! Even with Lovers Canal! (Yes they read it LOL.) I’ve been in contact with them regarding my complaint. I’ve also had messages from many people of colour regarding their negative experiences while in Amsterdam. They’ve all had very similar experiences, therefore they have found my post not only interesting to read in that times have not moved on culturally and intersectionally, but also they also found it therapeutic to share the experience.

And then I received this on my facebook page:

I’m half Dutch and I completely disagree with what your saying. Your making assumptions on a whole nation from one experience, and personal this really offends me as I’m proud of my heritage. You are entitled to your opinion but maybe you should think a little bit more before you write such damaging words as your judging the majority on the minority group you have unfortunately had to deal with, which is awful and I’m sorry you went through that.

Ok first of all:

This girl is best friends of somebody I used to be friends with and she grew up in South-East London… NOT Holland but London, and she still lives in SE London therefore, she doesn’t know Holland or the culture. She knows LONDON.

Second of all:
YOU’RE not YOUR you dumb bitch. If you’re going to send me a message, check your grammar. There are more, but this one offends me the most.

She also clearly doesn’t know how to read, because I didn’t judge my experience on one experience. I lived there unlike you, you dumb bitch.

Third of all:

Proud of your “Dutch Heritage”

So you didn’t read the piece then did you, you dumb bitch, because that would make you a massive racist!

So you’re supposed to be an adult, who cannot spell and you’ve also confirmed everything I believed about the Dutch!

And here’s my final question… what was your goal, you bum?

What was your goal in telling a highly educated Black, disabled woman and her highly educated Transgender girlfriend, who were both subjected to SO MUCH harassment and witnessed SO much discrimination against their minority groups that they’ve been put off going back to that country, about your white feelings and your white tears?

That you haven’t lived in, but the highly educated Black woman has, just remind you LOL

Thank you and good night!


Posted in Blog

We DO NOT Love Holland

Warning: this piece is going to be savage.



On Thursday I flew to Amsterdam for a city break with my girlfriend.

To say that it was the worst experience of my life would be an understatement. The Dutch are a racist, homophobic, sexist and transphobobic nation. All countries are, however the Dutch are so direct in their bigotry; they think that because they are pioneers as being the First Nation to legalise cannabis that this shows them as a liberal nation – a nation where all are free. It’s rubbish – they’ve legalised prostitution, yet even that is still segregated: the Black and Latino women are in separate parts of the Red Light District, and horrifically more so. The Black and Latino women are strategically placed near the church – is this to sanctify them? Transgender women have a completely different light to Cis women to “warn men”. This is not pioneering (in case you are un aware of the definition of the word, it’s “moving forward”), and furthermore, this is definitely not intersectionality, which is also what apparently the Netherlands are pushing for in terms of diversity.

The bizarre thing is, people also think that Amsterdam is one of the most diverse and tolerant of cities, probably because the people who think so do not fall into any minority categories and therefore don’t notice the intolerance.  

I lived in the Netherlands for two and a half years as a child; my father was stationed in a German RAF base. We suffered intolerable racism as the only Black family in our town. I was also the only Black child in my school and my teachers made sure that I fucking knew about it, however that’s for a separate post. My point is, I cannot believe Dutch racism hasn’t moved on in THIRTY YEARS.

Thursday 8/02

So, we touched down on Thursday and I immediately noticed the stares. One thing I also immediately noticed was that the Dutch are either aggressively rude or overly polite (as if over compensating). We took the express train from Schiphol Airport to Centraal Station, before taking the tram to the Hotel. We stayed at Hotel Atlas, which was a short tram ride away from the city centre, in Vondelpark. The hotel was ghastly. The bathroom had major sewage issues; the bedroom had cobwebs and the mattress was a sinking pit – even worst to try and sit on when drunk! My girlfriend and I had fun pretending to be in Four in a Bed when completing our feedback forms LOL. 

In the evening, we went to the Xtracold Icebar, which is minus 10 degrees and even the shot glasses are made of ice! That was fun. I did think I was going to die of hypothermia LOL. Our tickets were prebooked through Viator: £56 for two people; prices included two drinks and a canal cruise. And we had dinner in a lovely Indonesian restaurant called Indrapura. 


Fri 9/02

We began the day extremely hanging! However, super pumped for the Black Heritage Tour, led by Jennifer Tosch. Jennifer has an MA in Heritage and Memories and having immigrated from California five years ago, has made it her mission to educate both people of colour as well as Dutch citizens on the hidden histories of the Netherlands. People of colour have been part of Dutch history for centuries, yet this is denied repeatedly, regardless of the fact that there is so much evidence within – especially within the city’s landmarks:  


(This is a Black man holding the world on his shoulders… which Dutch historians deny.)
  • The Dutch had colonies in Brazil therefore promoting immigration to the Netherlands for Slavery. There are Black-Portuguese figurines in their landmarks, for example there is also a Brazilian slave figurine in the WWII monument in the square. Yet Black presence pre- WWII is denied aggressively. There are also Black female figurines in the Red Light District pre-dating the 19th Century.
  • The East Indies (Indonesia) was colonised by the Dutch – proof of which is seen  with the Indonesian cuisine all over the gaffe in Amsterdam! 
  • Two African princes attended the coronation of Prince Willem Piso in 1648, which is obviously way before WWII. This is evidenced with paintings, which includes the images of the two Princes.
  • According to Dutch history, in the Dutch Republic, slavery was illegal. This is taught in schools however, according Jennifer there is evidence to show that there were slaves in the Netherlands. There are paintings which include Black people in market places. 
  • The Dutch East India Company were slave owners and heavily involved in the slave trade, trading pepper, opium, and coffee. They were directly involved in trafficking Africans. South Africa was also involved however, Jennifer was not permitted to quote this in her book. There was a year difference between the abolition in US and Netherlands. In fact 1873 was the official emancipation. There are cog ships all over the city to celebrate their involvement in the transatlantic Slave Trade, yet the Dutch aggressively deny their involvement. Goods were traded through the stock exchange which were retrieved by slaves for the Dutch East India Company to then be sold onto other countries.
  • There are pictures of Black soldiers from WWII which have then been retracted from history. Men of colour also died in concentration camps which has been omitted from history.
  • During the tour, we were taken to a building with a gable stone containing the scripture: Acts 8:37-38 on it: “And he gave orders to stop the chariot. Then both Philip and the eunuch went down into the water and Philip baptized him” with a (Black) Ethiopian man in the illustration. Gable stones like these are missing from the majority of Dutch tours, yet they are on many buildings across the city, and are imperative to Dutch heritage. We even witnessed a tour completely miss it. Christianity was also used against Black people in Slavery. – to enslave them. 


Evidence of racism:

  • The De Waag, is the oldest and outpatient forensic psychiatry facility in the Netherlands, used to promote eugenics against Black people and Jews, especially during WWII, even though no scientific evidence was found. In fact, scientists found that their science was flawed, when experimented on Black bodies, however they refused to publish their true significant findings.
  • There is still a lot of inequality in the economy, education and housing in the Netherlands for Black people.

The tour was €45 pp and I highly recommend it.

Lovers Canal Tour

Although the Fleet is mentioned during the Canal tour and are celebrated at one point as being the largest in the World, their involvement in the Slave Trade is not mentioned. Regardless of my being high on both mushrooms and hash, this minor detail did not pass me by 😉
The Captain also called trans women “ladies with the big hands”.

My complaint email to Lovers Canal Tours went as follows:

I would like to make a complaint about one of your captains, Patrick.

On Friday 9th March 2018, at 18.40 my girlfriend and I took a tour on one of your canal boats (booking confirmation and copy of tickets attached). 

When we passed through the Red Light District, our captain Patrick made a joke about transgender sex workers: “…and to the gentlemen, if you visit the windows later, take care that behind the ones with the blue lights, you’ll find the women with, uh, the large hands, if you know what I mean”
My girlfriend is a transgender woman, who found this joke not only offensive but upsetting and once we the trip ended, she ran off the boat in tears. 
I decided that I would speak to Captain Patrick about this because before this comment, we had been having a lovely time on the tour — especially my girlfriend. 
When I asked to speak to him, I asked to speak to him out on the deck and asked him why he had referred to transgender women in this way. He didn’t see the problem with it. In fact, he said: “well how else would you describe them?”
  1. He asked me to tell him another joke about transgender women, for him to use next time. Of course I outright refused.
  2. He then asked me how he should refer to transgender women in the future, however this is not my responsibility and furthermore, it’s obvious that he doesn’t care about how to appropriately and socially refer to transgender women considering his first question. 
  3. He then told me that I was the one with the problem, because everybody else on the boat had found the joke funny, just because when alighting the boats everybody had told him that they had had a good time — however, most people had appeared to look extremely uncomfortable after the offensive joke (apart from 2 guffawing men), compared to his other jokes. This comment also made me very angry and I replied to him that actually my girlfriend was the one he had offended and that may have been because she was the only one who was transgender. I reminded him that she was crying, to which he replied that he would apologise, however having already said nobody else was offended, implied that he didn’t care about her feelings, because he saw her as a minority and an “other”. 
He then requested that I come into the boat to “calm down” which I found extremely inappropriate. Why would I need to come off the pier, into a boat alone with him to “calm down” for? I refused.
He then started laughing at me, which proved what I knew all along — he had never taken the situation seriously from the get go. 
I would therefore like a full refund for my both tickets. Our canal tour was completely ruined by the unacceptable behaviour of this man. He confirmed that his jokes are unscripted by your company, therefore his jokes are his own and therefore his own opinions. 
If this is the type of person that you employ, then I am shocked, because this says an awful lot about the views of your company on women, transgender women particularly, and sex workers and I regret having made this purchase. 
I look forward to your reply.
Cece Noel
We then had dinner in a Turkish restaurant, where a disgusting man told me that his women dress better than I do. I took this to mean that because I am Black (Turkish men have a longstanding problem with Black women). But I know I look good, I don’t need the validation of a crusty Turk.

Saturday 10th Feb

Brunch @Bagels and Beans, an organic and eco friendly, independent deli.



I had avocado, tomato and cream cheese on a sesame seed bagel #nomnomnom

We then visited the Foam Museum. We went our separate ways at this point, so I saw the Back to The Future Exhibition first, which were all contemporary pieces of photography on different mediums including archaeology, which was interesting. Following this, I went to the Foam Editions studio on the top floor, featuring pieces by Anton Corbijn (one of my favourite photographers and directors!), Malick Sidibé, a Malian photographer, with incredible prints featuring black men and Robin Hammond a Kiwi photographer with a collection of photographs and narrative entitled: My Lagos. The photographs were amazing, however I did have an issue with a white man telling the stories of native people.  

We ended the trip by walking to Centraal Station, where we found ourselves in the square surrounded by animal rights protesters and a group men protesting the existence of Palestine.

And Black people are the savages, right?

Our flight took off 15 minutes late, yet white people say that Black people have a problem keeping to time.

Finally landing in Luton was such a relief. The mental exhaustion of being away is bad enough, however Amsterdam was a joke. Having people constantly staring at me was not. 

I had one seizure while away.

I also noticed how the men claim their property: they don’t hold their women’s hands, or link arms, they grab onto their waists and drag them along the streets like pieces of meat. In a country where prostitution is legalised it’s hardly surprising really is it?


Posted in Blog

Progress following last night’s Email…

Quick update, following last night’s email to my Epilepsy Nurse. I received a reply first thing this morning!

Receiving your email this morning took me by surprise as you seem somewhat upset by our previous support for you.

Now at first, I thought she seemed rather wounded, which pissed me off because she’s not the victim here – I am. However, reading it again, I’m now reading it as defensive. I dunno, what do you think?

She did however also say this:

I apologise if you feel as a team we have not given you the care you deserve.

Anyway, after a few more email exchanges we’ve now got me booked in for next Wednesday to see both her and the consultant. Therefore, I will be able to discuss my concerns with both of them and I’ve also booked an appointment to see the GP to arrange for a blood test for to check my vitamin D levels.

At present, her apologies have fallen on deaf ears in all honesty. I struggled through my job because of them. I have a speech impediment because of them. I struggle to write by hand because of them and had to teach myself how to write again – you can see my struggle over the summer on my YouTube channel. My Epilepsy should never have gotten this bad. Furthermore, I appear to know more about my own condition than they do, which they joke about, but now it’s not funny. They’re being paid to know more about this. If I’d had a stroke, I wouldn’t have to rehabilitate myself, so why am I doing that now? When I could barely walk last Summer, it was me who found out that potassium was beneficial for muscles and now I’m taking it daily and it’s had such a massive impact – especially on my left muscle, which was pretty much paralysed.

Sometimes I want the entire world to fix up, listen and save me, yet simultaneously piss off too because everybody is a fucking idiot LOL.

Being a fucking genius is such a torturous juxtaposition sometimes LOL.

Love to you all.




Posted in Blog

Generational Curses


My Grandmother is a Queen

But she lives like Cinderella

Her children are her wicked stepmother

Keeping her money, her love, her life from her

They keep her locked in the dark

From the people who truly love her…

…Her grandchildren,

Especially the apple of her eye

Her “Daisy May”.

What are we to do?

Generations of ignorance

Burdened upon our shoulders

If I ruled the world

I’d free all my sons

As well as my ancestors

But I’m a grown up

Yet I’m still too young

For responsibilities.

I’m more educated

Than my mother and father

Yet my intellect is downplayed.

They’re older in years

But mentally we’ve aged a thousand

These streets have aged us

Your burdens have aged us

Your abusive hands have aged us.

Like babies we cry out

Yet it’s our breasts you cry for;

Grow up.

What are we to do?