It was supposed to be a casual evening.
We were standing outside a restaurant with our two daughters and a friend.
We had just arrived and were chatting when we heard someone say, “Hello, hello, hello.”
Our friend’s friend was a black woman, wearing a black dress, black lipstick and a black wig.
She was dressed more casually and was making her way toward us.
The moment we turned around, she looked up and smiled.
We looked at each other and felt relief.
I didn’t have a lot of time to be grateful, so I didn, too.
I immediately recognized the white woman from a previous encounter with the same person, so the moment she walked up to us, I could feel the happiness radiating from her body.
The next day, my friends and I posted a photo of our encounter online and received hundreds of comments, most of which were supportive and encouraged us to continue.
As we looked at it over and over, it seemed like a lot more people were noticing the white person in our photos than the black person.
The internet exploded with questions, many of which we answered.
In response, I got dozens of comments from people who were similarly shocked and touched.
Some even congratulated me.
In some cases, people offered to pay for my travel expenses to go to the wedding.
I couldn’t wait to tell people what happened, and to share my story.
The response was overwhelming.
In a few days, I received dozens of emails from people in the US, Canada, Australia and other countries.
They told me how they felt about me and what they had experienced when they were assaulted by white men.
I shared their stories on my blog, “Black Beauty” and began receiving thousands of likes, comments and shares on the page.
I was also inundated with emails from African-Americans and Latinos who shared their experiences and shared the story of being assaulted by a white man in their communities.
Over time, the internet also became an important source of support for me, for the women who had experienced the same thing.
As my blog gained more followers and new readers, I started receiving messages from people across the world, including the people who had been attacked in the photo.
They also thanked me for writing about the issue.
Over the course of the next few months, the number of people asking for support grew exponentially, and I started getting messages from across the globe.
I received numerous emails from black women who have experienced similar things, including from my mother, my sister and my niece.
Many people had said they would consider donating to help me cover the costs of my travel and medical bills, but I wasn’t sure how much I would be able to do with just my blog.
I also needed a platform to share the news and share my experience with others.
That’s when I decided to create a campaign, “I Can’t Breathe,” to raise money for medical expenses.
My goal is to raise $15,000 so I can pay for medical bills for my family and me.
To be clear, my husband is not financially able to pay medical bills himself.
I am also working on a book that will detail the stories of people who have been attacked by white supremacists and other white supremacists.
My hope is to encourage other women to share their stories as well.
To date, over 100,000 people have pledged to help support me.
This campaign is designed to be as affordable as possible, so my fundraising goal is just over $10,000.
I’ve received an outpouring of support from people all over the world.
The people who responded to the campaign have shared their gratitude for the support and have given me permission to share it online and in the book.
People have also given me great advice on how to share and protect my story and to stay safe.
One of the most helpful people I have been able to reach is my friend, Charlotte, who lives in Canada.
She told me that her family and I have never had to deal with racism in Canada, so she knew she was not alone.
She shared the following with me: My family and my friends are in their early twenties, and my dad is a pastor.
My mom has two children.
One is a teenager, and the other is 18.
I have a cousin from Canada.
I know a lot about Canada and she knows a lot.
I just don’t know how to be sensitive to the white people that are here.
The other advice I got was from a woman who works at a clothing company in New Zealand, and who has been a regular customer of my shop.
She said, “You can tell how racist these people are when you see their skin color, but not their clothing.”
She said that she could never imagine seeing a white person walking into my store and being racially abused, so this was a great way to tell