Life Chat

Can I Live?

Can I Live?

I’m mad.

The reason I started this blog was to get out some of my frustrations that I could not necessarily discuss with those around me because of judgement, misunderstood, outcast, all kinds of factors. I just needed a place to dump all my many, many, many thoughts in my head in a judgement-free zone. As with anything you put online, everything is permanent so I began to post fluff pieces, that were important to be me, but not the nitty gritty of the things I really  wanted to say. So, here’s your coffee this morning, (or whatever time you’re reading this), just like me, straight and black – No fluff.

I am mad.

But Brittany, what’s going on?

I’m mad at the world.

Like the usual stuff, or…

No. The stupid mess that CONTINUES to go on.


I’m mad because in my anger I am not validated. I am not allowed to be angry. Every thing I do is to be calculated and critiqued at every freaking turn. I can’t be sad because I’m considered too weak. I can’t be angry because I’ll be considered hostile. I can’t be too happy because I’ll be considered ditsy or oblivious. I can’t be too serious because I’ll be considered high strung.

What a load of crap. And would you like to know why? Because I’m a black woman.

I’ve always had to be a shell of myself that I’m not quite sure my other ethnic counterparts have had to endure. In a situation where anger would be most understood and appropriate, I can not because I can not give my full reaction in fear of being judged or labeled as the “angry black woman”. Even though if the shoe was on the other foot, it would be so justified in their right.

I was listening to a podcast called “The Read”, which is an AMAZING podcast with 2 black hosts who discuss black pop culture in a satirical, lighthearted, and thought-provoking way and I am HERE. FOR. IT. ::excuse my fan girl moment:: But on their latest post “No Shave, No Shade”, co-host Kid Fury discussed a debate between Angela Box and Quanell X about the cop who slung a female student across the classroom. And I’m not gonna go all the way into it, because I’m sure you’ve heard and seen the story by now, but in his “read” he said an extremely prolific and terrifying thing,

[As black people] We want to live and be respected.

Now isn’t that something? We don’t want fancy jewels, we don’t want your first born, we don’t want the deed to your house. We just want the most BASIC of human rights and we can’t even get that!!! Wow.

That’s why I’m angry. The fact that I have to ASK to live. I have to beg and plead to be respected. What kind of travesty is that?!?! That statement there just through me for a loop. I mean nothing to you simply because I’m black. Not because I’m a bad person, or I was slapped your childhood best friend, or I murdered your favorite dog. But because I’m black. And I’m supposed to be proud and happy and continue my day to day activities??? You want to use me for the things you can benefit from, my intelligence (take credit for my inventions and innovation), my style (capitalize off my culture), and even my appearance, (big booties and lips are cool now? Really? -_-) But dare me to take credit for it and condemn me? Something has got to give. This is why I’m angry. You want to strip me of my basic essence and make me assimilate just in the end to still be like “I know you’re smart than me. I know you’re more physically fit than me. But I do like what you’ve got going on there, so I’m gonna take the parts I think are cool, penalize and condemn you for it, and get these coins.”

It’s exhausting. So yes, I’m mad. Because all I’m honestly asking for is to exist. I’m asking for my black brothers to exist. I’m asking for black husband to exist. I’m asking for my future unborn children to be able to exist. May I please have that opportunity? Can I live?

❤ LovedByBrittany

Song Of The Post : “Bulletproof” Raheem DaVaughn ft. Ludacris

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