This year, as chaotic as it’s been, has allowed me time for introspection. Today, 7/27, is my birthday; I have a lot to say to my younger self. They should be very proud.
I’ve been weird all my life, not fitting in and feeling pressured to do so. I have a new appreciation for weirdness and being a weird Black kid; this is my love note to all the others.
Permitting yourself to be authentic is beautiful, but it takes practice, trust, and safety. We hear over and over that we should be ourselves, without the warning that it needs to fit someone else’s design.
Do you have trouble facing the mirror? My self-esteem and I haven’t always seen eye-to-eye. Sometimes, we’re in sync. I’ll high-five the mirror or give myself a well-deserved wink. Other days, I am sitting on the floor sulking about how hideous I look and how I never want to go outside again.
A little reminder that we’re all different and do not need to fit a mold. Sometimes it’s tough to reconcile with, but I wouldn’t want you any other way.
I do not like my stretch marks, I never have. The unflattering lines dance across my body, a waltz of imperfection. The mirror is unkind to me, my zig-zags of insecurities exposed. My hips, my waist, my arms alike, are cloaked to avoid any unforeseen gaze. Then I […]