When I started this site, you all know the story, but what you don’t know is what came right before this website was born.

I was sitting on my balcony, and I was high. I was so high, I could almost imagine my ancestors in the fields, I don’t know if it was America or Barbados, but I do know that they were Black women discussing the future. This is what I can remember.

Wouldn’t it be amazing to be a Black woman sitting on your ass, while the white girl does all the work?” Said one, “Never going to happen“, said another.”

For the record, I am that girl aunties. I am the girl who sits at home all day and writes while my white mother goes to work. Level achieved, but that doesn’t make me happy.

Isolation is what started this website, I had left the boys behind, promised I would never, ever walk back into that strip club, and I fucking meant it. I turned my back on family. It was the only choice.

There were things that needed to be done, a reckoning that needed to happen, and they were too afraid, I was the only one that could out the truth.

Today I am the only Black woman who is mixed-race read, Creole, yes, Creole you racist peice of shit – Creole MEANS European mixed with Black – who is also simultaneously writing about Cult Rape in Canada.

I’m The Mother Fucking One.

Now What We’re Not Going to Do, is Lessen That, With Your Belief that My Journey, Doesn’t Matter to You.

Clearly, it does matter to you, because you’re here, which means I am not isolated, but I’m also not living in extreme trauma anymore either, I am still traumatized, but I’m not in the eye of the fuckin storm today, and that’s mostly because you’re here reading this.

But for millions of folks, that’s not the case.






Lots of people believe that “acceptance,” is a good thing, but my darlings, it’s so truly not. I accept what happened to me, but I don’t accept that there isn’t anything I can do about what happened to us, to all of us children who were turned into sex slaves, prostitutes, drug dealers, sex workers, and criminals, just so a bunch of pedophiles could get away with rape, murder, and torture. Um no, there’s a lot I can do about it, and I’m doing it.

I’m not isolating, I’m planning and plotting my revenge, but again, millions of folks don’t know what that means. Most cops hear the word “revenge,” and they think that means violence, darling it means fast cars, spending time with my family when we’re released from these prisons that don’t all look like prisons, it means being free.

You think “oh cute she has a blog,” I think “nope I see a war record.” It’s a battle log, of every time I’ve had to prove my innocence, every time I’ve had to stand up and say “no seriously, this really happened,” and all the side effects that come with not being believed and hospitalized against my will.

I’m not isolating, I’m fighting, every day of my life, for my sanity, my freedom, and the freedom of those I love.

From Abbottsford BC to Calgary Alberta, Ireland, England, France and Italy, Africa and Fez, I have people and friends from across the globe. I have family everywhere, and one way or another we’ll be free.

Isolation for many is our origin story. It’s that time for us to get to know ourselves but yes, it can be incredibly dangerous when we are unwell.

When we’re locked in our rooms or apartments or homes for long periods of time without access to folks we feel understand us, sometimes we make incredibly stupid choices (Incels talking to you here,) that lead to ourselves or those we care about being injured.

But when we’re mentally prepared, it can become a practice of Martial Arts that allows us to focus our minds, train our bodies, and set us free from the straps that held us back.

That’s what Loud Mouth Brown Girl – Black Belt Achieved. You all sit here thinking “oh wow she’s so strong,” thinking that all I’m doing is blogging, but there are little boys and girls out there who are reading this blog thinking they no longer have to put up with being abused.

Y’all. That’s what this website is.

Sending all my love,

Anonymous, #RebelUpAlways

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