I Am That Black Girl.

    I know this isn’t something I usually talk about but it was on my spirit so here goes nothing…     Some days, I’m tired of being black.  I’m tired of the trials and tribulations of what its mean to be black.  For  years  we have been treated less than and I often wonder, when will it ever end?  I also wonder what it feels like to be white, and have some privilege and life such a carefree life.     Then I remember that I’m black.     And on top of that, a woman.     And to add extra cherries, a  black  woman.  At one I questioned if God was playing a trick on me. Like why couldn’t I be white? Or even have a lighter skin tone?  Why do I have to suffer for the rest of my life showing others I’m not just a sexual object?     My answer to that was always.  And then I went natural.  Oh boy!     I know, I know, I keep adding to this systematically racist sundae and it gets better.     Growing up, I never felt pretty. And I truly mean never.  I was always looked at from the neck down and I can sincerely thank puberty for that one.  I started to notice boys by age 12 and already knew what sex was.  I wasn’t the most naïve girl in the world but I knew where what goes and where it didn’t and that was enough for me.  I prayed everyday for God to make me lighter with curly hair and green eyes.  I genuinely thought boys would like me more if I was a lighter complexion.  I vividly remember that every crush I had, always went for the light skin. And to be honest, it bothered me but I was determined to be just like them.  Now around that age, I couldn’t afford anything but one thing I knew, prayer always worked. I didn’t understand why I woke up in the morning still dark but I didn’t let it deter me from my goal: to be attractive.  As I got older, I gave hope my hopes and dreams of being this light skin goddess and accepted the dark, disgusting body that God unfortunately gave me.  What sealed my already low self esteem was one day in high school, this boy specifically told me that he wouldn’t date me because I was too dark.     Mind you, I didn’t even like him, I liked his light skin friend but they’re friends right so I thought; he was thinking the same thing.  My dream of finding love was shot and I accepted it.  So I used my body as a way to gain attention because in my mind, all of it was good.  I was okay with being sexualized and treated like I had no value. That’s all I was.  I wasn’t going to have a happy ending so why not have fun in the process?  At the age of 22, the day of my birthday, God spoke to me so clearly. He said, “What would happen if you died today?” “What have you done in your life from birth until now that I can say well done?”  I cried. I cried because I knew I didn’t value myself and I was allowing all this negativity in my life.  From that point on, I began my journey of loving myself and knowing my worth. It is still a long process and some days are harder than others but I know I can achieve my end goal.  In that journey, God gave me someone who saw me for who I really am, a daughter of a King. He didn’t care about my past because he wanted to be a part of my future for the long haul. He encourages me on the rough days and celebrates my good days.  He loves the skin that I’m in and I have learned to love it too.  There are going to be triggers every single day but I know it is up to me to allow it to have any affect.  God created me.  And I love every bit of it.     -N

 

I know this isn’t something I usually talk about but it was on my spirit so here goes nothing…

 

Some days, I’m tired of being black.

I’m tired of the trials and tribulations of what its mean to be black.

For years we have been treated less than and I often wonder, when will it ever end?

I also wonder what it feels like to be white, and have some privilege and life such a carefree life.

 

Then I remember that I’m black.

 

And on top of that, a woman.

 

And to add extra cherries, a black woman.

At one I questioned if God was playing a trick on me. Like why couldn’t I be white? Or even have a lighter skin tone?

Why do I have to suffer for the rest of my life showing others I’m not just a sexual object?

 

My answer to that was always.

And then I went natural.

Oh boy!

 

I know, I know, I keep adding to this systematically racist sundae and it gets better.

 

Growing up, I never felt pretty. And I truly mean never.

I was always looked at from the neck down and I can sincerely thank puberty for that one.

I started to notice boys by age 12 and already knew what sex was.

I wasn’t the most naïve girl in the world but I knew where what goes and where it didn’t and that was enough for me.

I prayed everyday for God to make me lighter with curly hair and green eyes.

I genuinely thought boys would like me more if I was a lighter complexion.

I vividly remember that every crush I had, always went for the light skin. And to be honest, it bothered me but I was determined to be just like them.

Now around that age, I couldn’t afford anything but one thing I knew, prayer always worked. I didn’t understand why I woke up in the morning still dark but I didn’t let it deter me from my goal: to be attractive.

As I got older, I gave hope my hopes and dreams of being this light skin goddess and accepted the dark, disgusting body that God unfortunately gave me.

What sealed my already low self esteem was one day in high school, this boy specifically told me that he wouldn’t date me because I was too dark.

 

Mind you, I didn’t even like him, I liked his light skin friend but they’re friends right so I thought; he was thinking the same thing.

My dream of finding love was shot and I accepted it.

So I used my body as a way to gain attention because in my mind, all of it was good.

I was okay with being sexualized and treated like I had no value. That’s all I was.

I wasn’t going to have a happy ending so why not have fun in the process?

At the age of 22, the day of my birthday, God spoke to me so clearly. He said, “What would happen if you died today?” “What have you done in your life from birth until now that I can say well done?”

I cried. I cried because I knew I didn’t value myself and I was allowing all this negativity in my life.

From that point on, I began my journey of loving myself and knowing my worth. It is still a long process and some days are harder than others but I know I can achieve my end goal.

In that journey, God gave me someone who saw me for who I really am, a daughter of a King. He didn’t care about my past because he wanted to be a part of my future for the long haul. He encourages me on the rough days and celebrates my good days.

He loves the skin that I’m in and I have learned to love it too.

There are going to be triggers every single day but I know it is up to me to allow it to have any affect.

God created me.

And I love every bit of it.

 

-N