Safe

What is that word?

I hear it all the time, but I never feel it in this life of hate and aggression.

I’m feeling this hate and aggression

and I can’t help it but I care about what people think of me because at the end of the day it’s people I need to succeed.

It sounds wrong but it’s people who open doors and I’m scared. I’m scared of being spat at, abused at, shouted at, looked at because of the way I look or the way I dress or because of the religion I chose.

This piece of cloth on my head is my identity, my serenity. Who am I without my protection? You can have your observation and perception but it’s my perfection.

You scold a girl for wearing too little yet when they wear too much you call them oppressed.

What life is this if a child links Muslim with terrorist without knowing it’s wrong? It’s wrong that I feel fear whenever I walk in the street I’m meant to belong,

Where we’re meant to be one

Strong.

It’s not fair that I always stand with my back against the wall when I wait for the train because I’m terrified I’ll get pushed on the tracks, or the fact that I always hold my breath and put my hood up when I pass a group of bald white men, or the fact that I don’t leave the house when there’s a football match or a terrorist attack or when everyone on the train stares at me with wide eyes because I have a backpack. Is it fair that I get panic attacks whenever there’s too many white people in the room, like there’s no air anywhere, is this fair?

Why should anyone feel isolated or feel like they’re alone because of their religion, age, sex or skin tone?

Who wants to live in a world with all this hostility between one another when there’s a possibility of love for each other?

But first we need to rid ourselves of ignorance and stereotypes, instead of assuming, ask, instead of screwing, research. We should be proud of a country so diverse, because who wants to be the same?

Safe

Because what is that word?