for a while I wanted to end up with an Asian guy, or this guy I thought was really beautiful. He was ethnic. Yet I realised when I went through some of the most painful experiences of my life, this dream I had, this illusion it wasn't real it didn't exist. The most I received from him ever was a beep as his car drove by and somehow I knew he was aware of the torrent of pain I was in. Never a conversation, never a smile, as others jostled or ridiculed me he' d join in and laugh, being part of this loathsome community, then it hit me today. When I go home I'm gonna. Marry a beautiful African man. I'd often hear his siblings pipe that I wasn't good enough for him, and I'd think what the hell has that got to do with it. This is not a man that's interested. I hit 30 today the big pow wow, the best news is, I'm going home and it may not be everything I imagined. There are no pretenders there. If the people hate you, they hate you, they don't beep at you in cars and then join forces with those who destroyed everything, and convince themselves it was just a game. I'm celebrating the men in my culture the ones back home, who wouldn't have joined others with poison in their hearts, and then beep at me as I walked around the neighbourhood. Happiness is one of the hardest things to find but at some point I was happy everyday, if I don't find that, I will build that from scratch back home, in whichever form. Yet I will celebrate the men that I wouldn't say belonged to me, but who would be able to approach me, laugh with me, joke with me, share opinions with me, and just get close enough to miss me when I'm gone. That will be real. Play both sides, a sick game is not what I'm looking for, I'm fighting to get my self esteem back and build something with the type of men that are allowed to love me. I will kick another gate, and laugh as I bound with energy up another street. I will build a hub, and there the next generation will kick gates too.