“I used to eat to numb my mind. Now I eat to nourish my body.“
“It is plain impossible to please a manipulator.
Whatever we do, it will never be good enough.”
I watched the excellent movie “I am not your negro” by Raoul Peck from the texts of author James Baldwin and it deeply touched me. It made me angry. Because I can’t take it anymore of this human cruelty that is perpetuated, of the riots that kill so many protesters each time without really changing mentalities nor the way our society is unequal.
I couldn’t believe my ears when I heard in the film that apparently some people thought that the slaves were dancing on the deck of the boats that took them away. No, but frankly, is that a joke? To treat human beings, to treat your brothers and sisters like objects, how can this be possible? You know, I’m furious, angry, disgusted, and yet I’m not black. So can you imagine for five minutes what it does to the brain and heart of a black person to know that their ancestors have been mistreated, murdered, hanged? Yes, white people are lucky that black people are not looking for revenge but for equality.
I couldn’t bear to see the pictures of these smiling white men around these black men hanging from tree branches. But do they not see that they have lost their brothers? Do they not see that they hanged their own souls by doing this, that they became worse than animals, that they themselves became inhuman?
I firmly believe that humiliation is a boomerang. He who humiliates his human brother will receive evil in their face afterwards. A human being does not practice humiliation, torture or cowardice.
Racism has to stop. How do I explain slavery to my children? My son doesn’t understand. He is almost black in summer. So he would have been worth less in the time of slavery?
So I would like western countries to return stolen art to African countries (I do not want to see African statues at the Quai Branly Museum in France but in an African country thank you very much), I would like western countries to stop using African population to test chemicals, that we focus on access to drinking water instead, that we erase sovereign debt and, above all, my friend my sister, that we repent for slavery. In the name of our ancestors. To be able to move forward. Together. All humans.
Finally, the live ended with a recipe: green salad, zucchini noodles, fresh onions, fresh basil, fresh parsley, vinegar, olive oil, turmeric, black pepper, curry powder, tamari.
“You know I love you ?” Maybe we all dream of that, of someone telling us that they love us. In any case, I can tell you that personally, I dreamed of a man telling me that he loved me.
Except that these words sometimes taste like tears. Let me explain.
As you may know, especially if you follow the work of my friend Randa from L’audace d’être soi (in French), manipulators can spot the cracks in the heart of their prey. Now my crack was my need for love. So a few years after having met and lived with this manipulator, the gradual erosion of my self-esteem had made its effect. I was the shadow of myself. I thought I deserved very little indeed.
But he kept repeating to me, as if he wanted to brainwash me: “Do you know I love you?“. He asked me if I believed him when he told me that. He added that it was very important that I believed him when he said that he loved me.
So yes I admit that today “You know I love you?” are no longer words that make me dream, because they were the foundation of the toxic relationship.
My invitation to you today my friend my sister, is to tell you “I love you” to yourself. I know that at first it will be neither natural nor easy. But it’s the key to happiness. And one day, it is my wish for us, a man will really love us my friend my sister. But he won’t need to convince us, because his actions will speak for themselves.
“My friend, my sister, self-love is the building block of a free life.”
“My friend, my sister, I scrubbed toilets, yet I have today a lawyer degree, so anything is possible.”