Monday, January 12, 2015

Thou shalt...love thyself!


All my life, I've been told I don't measure up to other girls. Not in so many words, but the implication behind backhanded comments, told me that I would never be as pretty as the next woman because of my dark skin, full lips, kinky hair...and all the other perks that come with being a dark-skinned, African-American female; which led to me being quiet, shy, and really withdrawn from people at an early age.

As a kid, my grandmother raised both me, and her niece (by marriage) from birth. We were raised as sisters in the same household. She was mixed (half white/half black) and has the features of her mother (who is white) meaning- long, silky, straight hair; her skin tone makes her appear Hispanic, rather than a black girl. For as long as I could remember, everybody who came into contact with her, would always go on and on about how beautiful she was; yet when it came to me, the only comments made were, "Oh, you're so tall..." or "You look just like your mama." Even as a child, though, I never got the, "You're pretty," comments. 

Those didn't come until later in life, when I was in high school. Somehow, God took pity on this ugly duckling he'd created, and transformed me into a beautiful swan, seemingly overnight. I looked in the mirror one day and thought to myself, "I look really pretty, today!" However, having always lived in the shadow of my sister and never being told or made to feel by my family that I was anything more than tall, I always had a low self-esteem.

I can remember staring at other girls at school from the corner of my eye thinking, 'She's so pretty...I wish I had her hair, or her thighs, or that my stomach was as flat at hers.' I studied teen magazines as if my life depended on it, trying to make myself attractive. I was around 16 when guys finally started to take notice of me for the first time. Before then, the only time a boy had anything to say to me was when he wanted me to pass a message to my sister for him. By my senior year, I had broken out of my shy shell, gotten an after school job, and became more of a social butterfly. For the first time, I didn't feel as if I didn't measure up to other girls. I was comfortable in my own skin, finally. That is, until I had a boy compare me to another girl. Immediately after telling me that I was pretty, he followed that statement by saying, "But you'd be prettier if...you showed more skin," like the girl who'd just walked by. I've never been the one to put all my goodies on display for the world to see, even though what God lacked for in giving me looks, he more than made up for it by blessing me with enough cleavage to help out two or three other girls. I hated having big breasts (and I still do sometimes) and I tried to cover them up as much as possible back then. I'd wear baggy shirts, layers of shirts..anything I could do to make my chest appear flatter. But, it seems that by not letting it all hang out, once again I was being judged for not looking or acting like other females my age. 

I brushed his comment off, but that wasn't the first, and would be far from the last, time I heard things like that. I always got, "You're cute...BUT!" or "You'd look better...IF!" or "You're cute...to be so dark-skinned!" Every time I got happy about someone complimenting me, it was quickly overshadowed by the low-key shade that followed it. 

Fast forward to now. I'm a 36 year old, wife and mother of two beautiful children. I'm no longer the shy, insecure girl I was at 16. I look in the mirror and tell myself, "You're beautiful today!" I have a big, bright smile, and despite the stretch marks and cellulite on the back of my thighs, and my not so flat, tummy, I still feel that I'm beautiful. My looks don't define me, and I know that now. I have so much more than that going for myself. I don't compare myself to other women...I don't have to. I had an old high school boyfriend once tell me that I needed to loose weight, even though I was much slimmer back then. I went around for years after that obsessing over my weight. I don't do that anymore, either. I've embraced my curves. I've learned to be happy with what God blessed me with, as all women should. Never let anybody define you, or try to put you in a box, because it will eat away at you and make you miserable. 

What brought about this post, was something that happened a few weeks ago. My husband had taken a photo of me last summer outside our house in front of this big, beautiful tree. I love the pic, so I was playing around with some photo collage app, where I could use a pic and make it look like a magazine cover. I did it and posted it to my Facebook page, because I thought it was cute. I wasn't seeking anybody's approval...I liked it, so I posted it. One of the first comments I got, was a negative one from this guy on my friends list. Rather than just keep scrolling past it since he obviously had nothing nice to say, he chose to make a remark that instantly took me back to those days when I was told, in an indirect way, that I wasn't good enough. His comment was followed by and LMAO comment from a girl, who obviously thought that what he'd said was hilarious. Without losing my cool, I politely let them both know that I didn't ask for, nor did I give a damn, about what they had to say and that if they didn't like what I posted on my page, to keep it moving, because the only people who's approval I do care about (my husband and children) DO feel that I'm beautiful...and that's all that matters. 

The girl apologized, but the guy has chosen to ignore me ever since then, which suits me just fine. I could have just let it go, but he'd struck a nerve. I've had enough of people trying to make me feel low and down about myself. Hell YES, I thought I was hella cute on that pic, and I'll post it a million more times, if I feel like it. Life is too damn short to walk around with my head down. No, I'm not supermodel beautiful, I don't have a body like Beyonce, and I could definitely stand to lose a few lbs...however, I'm a full-figured woman, who has gone through so much, I'm lucky to even still be alive (that's a whole other post) and I told myself years ago, to hell with what other people think. I wish all women would do the same. Looking at these actresses and models in magazines, with the overly, photo-shopped images...you'd go crazy (and broke) trying to maintain a perfect image. You got curves? Don't hide them, embrace them. Stop giving a damn about other people's opinions. What others think of you, is not your business. If you look in the mirror and feel pretty, take a selfie...hell, take two or three...post them and don't let anybody's ignorance make you feel bad. And I'm not saying being arrogant, because arrogance is not attractive on anybody, but love yourself. Tell yourself you look pretty if you feel you do. In the famous words of Rupaul: "If you don't love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else?" If you don't think you're beautiful, you can't expect anybody else to, either. However, if some fool comes at you with some sly comment, politely let them know that they can kiss your butt! 

It took many years for me to learn to be able to do this, but I am definitely less stressed now, after having learned this lesson. Everybody isn't going to like you, and that's perfectly fine. I probably don't like your ass, either. And shy, quiet, naive Joyce exited the building a long time ago. Come at me sideways now, and I won't hesitate to let you know exactly what you can do with your opinion....

Well, 
Until next time... 

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