Everything is changing.....

Maybe feeling vindicated is a sign of being a shallow or self seeking person. If so such is life and/or such am I.

From my earliest teenage years I felt myself to be the victim of a vicious, cruel, malicious, vindictive, manipulative person. She is my sister's best friend.

My mother and sister both decided that I was 'just jealous' of her and of her relationship with my sister and being mean. Also because I am tactless, loud, big, critical, opinionated, recalcitrant, observant, unforgiving, judgemental amongst my sometimes valuable flaws they judged the way the message was delivered and refused to listen to it.

Tonight my sister, shared with me that she has recognises she has been feeling 'like a person who suddenly realises that they are in an abusive relationship'.

My dear partner was the one who gave my sister space to grieve, supported her in and through this one facet of it. I tried but found that I kept going into either why/accusatory or finally you've realised, which is of course, 'why couldn't you see before?' Which is neither helpful not compassionate.

The painful thing for me is that it came about because her best friend finally showed her true colours and openly and honestly expressed her hatred of me. Somehow my sister saw that it really was how her friend felt about me. And it's not even the fact that this woman hated me but, the fact that my sister knows that anyone who truly cares about you and knows that you love your sister wouldn't dream of saying it to you ('and especially not with such venom').

My poor sister also realised, that when her best friends husband interacts with her, often it is with shame. He is ashamed of his collusion with his wife's behaviour.

We have created a strategy that will allow her friend the choice and option to release the abusive side of their relationship and save the friendship. My sister says she is ambivalent as to whether her friend will choose the friendship and has no idea which way it will go.

I am curious. In one way we hope that she will just exit our lives but in another way, all things measured forty one years would be a lot to throw away for money. but it's been done before and probably will be again.

Anyone to whom it has happened will tell you there's an incredible joy you feel when a beloved sibling frees themselves a hideously abusive relationship. In freeing herself my sister also freed me.

But to get back to the start for the majority of my life, I have lost almost every battle for first choice in my mother and sisters lives. They have always told me they loved me but when they never supported or choose my part the many arguments and tussles that my sister's best friend and I have had over the years. They didn't listen to or for a difference in the objections of the causes of the arguments over the years. They were just judged as being exactly the same as when I was 11 and yet again being asked to give up something for or to her. My grandmother like me never liked her but, unlike made sure it wasn't noted or an issue until her death bed when she told my sister to tell her best friend to "Piss off"

I would guess that they both are intimidated and often fearful of me, actually I'm not guessing they have both told me so. My sister's best friend feels neither of these things because she knew she could always scupper anything I wanted or asked, them or her for by playing victim to me. After a certain number of years it didn't matter if I didn't get mad or shout but just the fact that I refused to admit to 'being wrong' was proof of my guilt.

2015 will be an interesting and I hope a positive year, where I am truly proved wrong and my sisters heart is unbroken.

If her best friend can accept the separation of the part of the relationship where she can financially manipulate my sister to her own benefit from their true friendship. If she is not all the horrid things I believe but just a player who finally lost the game, all our relationships and circumstances will improve and we can all work together towards our happiness.

Beautiful music in the Land of contrasts

After three weeks of being in the UK. My first trip out of the house and garden begins unpleasantly and highlights why I self attack on my choice of the Netherlands as a place to live.
The day ends with a fun evening enriched by amazing 'Austrian winter food' and far too much vodka and wine!

MB was singing low bass ina Rachmanivov concert. Saturday was in a small church in Amsterdam, Sunday is in St Bavus church on the big square in Haarlem.

As we approach the square from halfway down the street leading up to it amplified music booms through the buildings - at odds with the quaint olde worlde feel of the streets.
"I can't bear amplified busking." short discussion with my friend about my contentious opinions as we enter the square. The music is coming from a stage directly opposite the front of the church, at the side where we are people are streaming in.
"This must be for the Rachmaninov" I say at the raised eyebrows, surprised glances, double takes and rapid blinking we also stream into the church. It's really busy. There is a queue to pick up reserved tickets just past the toilets. The person in front of me is taking an age.

Two ladies exit the wc look through me and stand directly in front on me, ignoring all the people behind. I comment steadily, hearably and directed towards them only the last remark makes the woman behind - standing closest to me twitch
"Did they just walk out of the toilet and stand directly in front of me?" An affirmation from my companion
"That is incredibly rude isn't it?" another affiirmation
"And yes they are going to completely ignore me and push even more determinedly and directly in front of us.
"I guess they can't believe god ever intended them to stand behind a black person
"This is the kind of thing I did not miss in the UK.
I tell an anecdote about a man at a bus stop in Gloucester who asked me if I was waiting for the same bus before entering - I'd got there before him and even though he was considerably older than I and it was frees
 The Dutch are just effin rude"
Their behaviour is so ignorant. It's pig ignorant
"That's what these two are pigs in posh clothing"
The church is paced 500+ people, the only other dark face is a small man in the choir. There are also three Japanese.
The noise from outside is so bad that one can hardly hear the choir. I had assumed that the church would have amazing acoustics - it doesn't. The levels of noise from outside is hugely disturbing; even when the amplified music stops (the concert is paused for 20 minutes while we wait for this to happen!)  I end up leaving my seat and leaning against a pillar to really hear the music.
Bloody Dutch couldn't organise a piss up in a brewery - who booked the concert? Who booked the gig on the square? Isn't there anyway to check and confirm that? Don't they know that you can hear every sound from outside from within the church? (probably their way of checking that everyone came - more of the social control.)
To add insult to injury it's effing freezing, had to do up my coat, put on my gloves and use my kidney warmer to lean against the stone.
The best thing about the concert after the music is the free vodka I think I managed to get about 5 in.

ragin again.

On the one hand it doesn't help but, on the other it does. I think my rages are founded in a deep desire for justice and are triggered by perceived injustice.
There was a day that was toasted as an opportunity to contribute and exchange ideas with as basis what I shall the the legacies of colonisation (coloniality) and the 'afropean'.
 I thought I had made up the term but it appears to now be moving into academic circles. I have a very clear understanding of what I was trying to describe with the term. Academia of course is in the process of disclarify my understanding.
Born in a country, looking like an African (not to African's obviously) with no other knowledge than European culture.
A young Surinamese man who came to the Netherlands at a young age was offended because I termed him not an Afropean. For me he was clearly not born in Europe. I could see it in the way he walked, his speech patterns and his general 'feel'. The young woman sitting next to me was how I would define an Afropean. Born in Europe in this case of a white German mother and Nigerian father.
I used the term to describe my experience of moving to the Netherlands and other countries from Britain where I have always been seen and taken as British or English with no debate from a very young age. In France, Australia and New Zealand  I was also automatically taken as 'English'. There is the without doubt mainland European tendency to try to negate my European'ness' by asking where I was born - England. and when that doesn't give the required answer asking where my parents were born.
Recently the son of a friend asked me the same question and I was both surprised and heartened when at my gently asking him if he was ever asked the same question and what impact did he think constantly being asked that question might have  he said
"Oh, that's a racist question. I'm sorry. Thank you for showing me that."
In the Netherlands I experience so much self oppression in the ways that light skinned blacks refer to themselves and other people of colour. Particularly those 'blessed' with white mothers who consider themselves incapable of being racist because they've fucked black men.
One of my neighbours subjects her daughter to such malign oppression we couldn't remain friends.
'Normal' and accepted terms here in Amsterdam such as 'negerin' and 'half bloed' make my pulse race and my blood start to simmer. it is a term the mixed heritage people here call themselves. I say
"Where are you from?" they say
"Here, I'm a half bloed."
Why do I live in the Netherlands? Because it is the safest and most privileged place on the planet. When, if everything goes pear shaped and the world system as we know it starts collapsing or the poles melt and the water rises to drown  major cities. The Netherlands will still be floating and doing business with anyone who can manage it.
I live here so that my child, who is spoiled and can be obnoxious as all Dutch children and young people are allowed to be as well as  naive, lazy, spoiled, unaware or any of the fantasies that other places have of the possibilities of an ideal childhood. She is and can be instead of weary and world wise before she was out of her teens.