Hey, Hannah Here

Hey there,
I'm Hannah Kay and I honestly think there's nothing overly special about me. I am just another teenager trying to get noticed in the world, just another person trying to get their story out to the world, trying to be heard. You're probably wondering why I chose this to be the name of my blog.

Well you see it all kind of started like this. ever since I was around... 9? I am not too sure. Some certain topics intrigued me. I'd spend hours and hours researching over them, poring over the little things, the tiny details that to me mattered the most. I went from the Victorian and Elizabethan eras; reading classics and history textbooks and  articles to mythology; Greek, Norse and even Roman; there was the chemistry phase too, the racism, the Martin Luther King, the Margaret Thatcher and so many more. I went from arts to sciences, from biology to Literature.  During each phase I  picked up a lot of information on lots of topics. Anytime there is an intelligent discussion I almost always have something to contribute. It got to the point that people felt I was showing off. I eventually decided that I would find a way to channel all this information to make a difference. I have always believed in lending my voice to those who feel they do not have one. I believe in speaking for the things no one else would other wise notice.
That girl who, in the morning, spends an extra ten minutes staring in the mirror, wishing she was thinner, she goes on all sorts of dangerous diets just to have the 'IT'  body, eventually she stops eating altogether, she starts to starve "what's a little bit of hunger?" she says,"I'll be fine, I can manage just a little bit longer." Eventually she starts to fade away till she's gone and all she ever wanted was to feel beautiful, to have that model body, to be perfect. That was all she wanted. No one ever told her she was beautiful, perfect in her own way, that she didn't need all those diets or weight loss tricks for that but now its too late and she's gone.

No one notices the boy that is always sporting a long sleeved shirt to hide all the hot water wounds cigarette marks and all the scars littered all over his body. He's too scared to go back home after school fearing another round of beatings from his father he is different, ignored. Everyday he is told he isn't worth the space, that he was a mistake. Everyday he receives beatings from a bloody eyed drunk father until one day he doesn't show up at school. He's dead, God had decided to relieve him of his pain and suffering. He's dead, beaten to death. He's dead and almost nobody noticed. he was invisible. Nobody told him that he should have reported the abuse.
No one sees the little boy, treated different because of the colour of his skin, he's grown up thinking he was weird, different, abnormal just because his skin was a few shades darker. Now that he is older he wears his skin like a collar, he is no longer himself; he is "black" he is no longer a bright young individual; he is a shamed being, not good enough. No one told him that race cannot define who you are, you do.
No one remembers the girl that has been told all her life that she is worthless, ugly and that no one will ever love her. Each day she looks at her  reflection in the mirror wondering why? why she couldn't be perfect, why she is treated differently "is it my hair? I can dye it if that's what they want" she says. She just wants to fit in, to blend in, to have friends, "is it too much to ask for?" she questions.Their words sink in. She begins to tell herself that she's not worth it, that she's nothing but a waste of oxygen, that no one will ever love her. The pain is way too much for her she needs a way out, a solution. She picks up a blade and oh so carefully begins to cut down her arm. The pain felt refreshing, almost sweet, a sweet, sweet distraction from the emotional pain she is facing. They begin to insult her again and she simply smiles and pretends everything is fine but when she's alone she draws out her blade and begins to cut, temporarily distracting herself from the emotional pain she was in. One day, as she cuts, she accidentally tears a vein but she doesn't get help, she doesn't go to the hospital instead she accepts her fate 'I deserve this,' she thinks, then props herself on her bed, closes her eyes then slowly bleeds to death. No one told her that no one deserves to be bullied, to be insulted, nobody told her that she is worth it that she didn't have to fit in when she could stand out.

 These are the people that truly matter, the underdogs, the crazy ones, those who dare to be different, the freaks and we are surrounded by them every where.There are many more people like them. People who are treated horribly, oppressed, deprived of their  rights. People who feel insignificant, who battle everyday with depression, who don't want to wake up in the morning for fear that they don't have the strength to carry on, who are weak and broken down. I believe that these people have stories and I see it has my duty to tell them. I believe it is our duty to notice the little things and help the underdogs. I will be posting on a range of topics from my writing to gender inequality, from life experiences to poetry. You can view some of my other posts such as
* "Death and the afterlife"
*"a teenage boys guide to growing up",
*"life in the little things",
*"lets talk about the 'D'" or
* "The secret of successful people" or
*"Body positivity and beauty".
*"People have changed history and lives and so can you"
Don't forget to comment and follow.
I'm  Hannah Kay, just a teenage girl, sharing her world the way she views it.