How You Learn To Hate Yourself or When I Realized That My Lips Were Big

So I just posted a selfie on IG and when I looked at it I realized how large my lips were. Funny thing: I have never thought that my lips were large. I’ve never paid them any attention except to apply some Chapstick. If you know me you know lipstick is such a rare occasion that I don’t even own any.

Anyways, I never thought of how large my lips were until there was this huge racist uproar on MAC Cosmetics IG. And even then I didn’t say anything. I guess I just sort of absorbed it.

That selfie made me think of all of the parts of my body that I’ve thought were too much. And when exactly that happened, like my breasts… They became too large when it was cooler to have smaller perky breasts. Anything larger than a hand full was too much. That’s what the media has shown us for so long. Until getting larger boobs became a thing. Even then the media loves those perky fake ones over us heavy full breasted girls.

I know I know you’re like Adrien what are you talking about but this is how women especially black women begin to internalize hatred for aspects of themselves. I don’t hate my lips but now I know that they’re large. *shrugs* Now I know they match my Michael Jackson Nose.

Also,  I keep seeing my “social media friends” mention how they are so over the talk about racism and this and that and why don’t black people get over things that happened in the past.

Sidebar: Acknowledge your privilege. You can turn it off.

But the reason we can’t just get over it, whatever IT is, is because the past is today. It’s because being a black woman in America means that at any given moment a portion of your body can become unacceptable, too much, and ugly while it is lauded and applauded after someone else purchases it.

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The Art of Realizing That You Don’t Need Much

It’s 11pm and I just returned home from my birthday dinner. One of my best friends coordinated a birthday dinner in my honor to celebrate my 31st which is coming up on Monday. Maybe I’m feeling nostalgic or maybe it’s the glasses of Prosecco and Whiskey Sours that one of the owners sent me but this simple dinner with eight of the people nearest and dearest to me was one of the best birthdays I have  experienced in years.

There was no stress or drama over inviting fifty eleven people, I didn’t feel anxious over trying to make sure that everyone was having fun, I wasn’t concerned that someone was going to embarrass me. The most unpleasant aspect of the entire evening was when we weren’t allowed to be seated because seventy five percent of our party wasn’t there yet. (Etiquette tip: Arrive before the birthday person or let the host know you’re running late in advance) It was simple; good people, excellent food, phenomenal drinks, and love flowing all around.

I realized sometime during the night that I’m simpler than even I thought I was. I don’t need much to be happy. I don’t even want much: Love, food, laughter, and a couple of drinks seem to be the key to happiness in my book.

I’m lucky. I’m blessed. I’m loved. In this moment all is more than well.

Thank You Grille 116  South Dale Mabry for the amazing atmosphere and food. Thank you Porsche Price for the amazing cake! Thank you Lisa, Margie, Nick, Ashley, Christy, and Darian for making this one of my favorite birthdays. I love you all.

Formal Notice

Formal Notice

I’m willing to move my ribs to the side for you.
Pluck open my back and give you pieces of my spine so that you can stand up straighter.
Invite you to have the pick of the draw when choosing my shoulders.

Choose wisely.

I want you to be properly prepared as you carry the weight of the world. You’ve been doing it alone for so long and two heads are better than one.

Three shoulders are better than two.

I would give you my heart but I need it. Couldn’t give you pieces of me so unequivocally without it. But I’ll give you a kidney,
sliver of my liver,
part of my lungs,
I would give you my tongue if only I knew you would use it to just speak up.

Why don’t you ever just speak up?

Why don’t I just speak up?
There’s an old saying advising people to do unto others as you’d have them do to you.

But what if you’ve given others your Milky Way and half of your stars out of the goodness of your heart and they can barely part with a kind word?

What then?

What do I do when I’ve shown you that I’m willing to give you more than half of all of me and I realize that you can’t be bothered to do the same?

What then?
What if I changed.
Gave to the world an exact replica of whatever it is that the world has given to me?

Dear World,

I taught you how to treat me. Accepted your bullshit even though I was allergic to it. Even though I knew it for exactly what it was.
But things have got to change. I can not continue to dry out my oceans to fill your river beds when you wouldn’t offer me a cold drink if it required too much work. Consider this my formal notice that the old ways are done.
And when you start to notice don’t be surprised.

Remember,
you already done been told.