• Gabriela Valentina

I really fucking hate racists


Hi dolls!


For the last couple of weeks, I was trying to get my head around how to address the #blacklivesmatter movement and the impact of George Floyd’s murder on the blog. Though you might think it should have been an easy task as this blog is literally a safe haven for Black Millennials, but I had to first, and foremost, formalise the feelings I was going through. I was exhausted at first, then I started crying and afterwards I wanted to clarify what I knew was easy to articulate in a way that was IMPOSSIBLE for haters to tear down. Now I think I’m ready so here we go..



Growing up in Italy I never really had black friends, I didn’t really have the opportunity to meet people that were like me that were not related to me to some degree. It was weird, I love being Italian, I love the food and I do have some great friends, but growing up in the suburbs I didn’t have the chance to share my experiences with anyone that was going throw the same things if there was an instance of racism no one would really say anything, they’d brush it with a passing comment or tell me not to mind the hateful words. But I did mind because it did hurt.

So, when I moved to the UK something switched, and it happened so effortlessly I was not able to detect it. I could see people that looked like me at every corner and I was not related to them which made everything even more exciting. That’s how I finally started to accept myself completely and unapologetically because I finally came in contact that was not only white.


Growing up in Italy people do not see the difference between racism and xenophobia, when someone hates finds a way to hate whoever is Italian, and at times I found myself questioning if my so-called "friends" would have been willing to engage with me if we didn’t grow up together, turns out that distance is the biggest truth-teller, and apart from five people I have had absolutely no contacts with the majority of the people I grew up or went to school with.

I have never had issues being in predominantly white environments because predominantly white environments were everything I knew. What was weird was ‘adjusting’ to being able to talk about what happened in my family life to someone that was not part of the family. Facades were not important anymore because the people I was in contact had gone through similar experiences. And it really felt like a weight had been lifted.

Of course, everyone has to adapt their ways to the different aspects of their lives, but when you are black you have to check what you are saying, when you are saying it and how you are saying it, because:

  • If you are frustrated or assertive some people describe you as mad.

  • When you explain that your parents used to discipline you people doubt your mum and dad’s parenting skills.

  • When you explain you don’t know your father’s whereabouts people go ‘Typical’.

At times feels as if they were looking for ways to fit you in the stereotype box as fast as possible, not with everyone, not always, but when it happens it erases years of hard work.

#blacklivesmatter does not limit itself to the lives that have been lost, but to all the lives that are lived in discomfort and fear.

Racism is so embedded in every society it seems alright to ask me if I am really Italian as if by invalidating part of my identity I’m going to somehow renounce it. As if.

Now I know that it’s not worth putting different mask to please people because some people will never be happy, no matter what, and will always be able to nip pick on something you said or did.


All this to say “I really fucking hate racists” (John Boyega, 2020)



With Love,


Take care of you babe.


Gabriela Valentina