Near the completion of my second college career I decided that I’d get more into reading self-help books, tending to my mental help and providing myself with continuous self-love (hey, that ought to be a post on it’s on ;)). During this journey, that I plan to make a permanent part of my lifestyle, I came across a 21 Day Gratitude Challenge.
Life is crazy. Life can be full of sh!t. But life is what YOU make it. I plan to make the most out of mine, my way. There are many things – negative, painful, revolting – in my life, and people including myself, that have contributed to all of the chaos that I have encountered and always dealt with in my head.
I see the way you look at me
the way you stare
those eyes full of hate
your judgmental glares.
I’m not a size two
nor do I care about the coil or kink of my hair
I won’t apologize for my self-love
that you can’t bare
a beautiful woman of color
nothing can compare.
I hear your disapproving whispers
your pointing fingers
because of the beauty you fail to see
And a love you don’t understand
Mad cus we interracial
I call to embrace reappraisal
with it my magnificence glows
You try your hardest to make my highs
so low, your mindset is so skin deep
it makes me cynical, makes me livid, makes me weep!
Your insults will no longer bring us down
We will come together black & brown
Strength and courage to uplift us
You can continue to fuss
We are minorities no longer
We’re making a comeback
We coming back stronger
Brown & black
The underdogs no more
Higher and higher together we soar
Like Maya Angelou we will rise
To your hate we say our goodbyes
You can no longer enslave us our minds are free
Today we let go of your negative thoughts towards we.
By: Stephanie Cofield & Viola Constance
I never thought I’d be a person with insecurities. I am in no way a cocky person. I was raised and groomed to have confidence. My insecurities have always been more so with health issues than image. I was insecure about my insecurities. I’d never had a declining moment with self esteem during my adolescent years, but it took a hit during my college years. Growing up I didn’t have any major skin issues aside from what we all assumed to be a heat rash. Every summer (or so it seemed) I’d get little red bumps on one of my forearms. It happened other times when my body seemed to get overheated. The rashes lasted no longer than three or four days so there was no need to go to the doctor.
I tend to always go with the flow
of life; calm, cool, and collected
going one way when others say
leaving my sense of me rejected
you before I, except after work, I never thought
twice about it before but Continue reading
Growing up it took awhile for me to really see color. I mean I noticed it, but it wasn’t a big deal to me. A little girl in the hood, I thought everybody was just like me; we all had mamas, we all took the bus (207 and 218), we all ate off of food stamps (the color paper not the card labeled by three letters), we all lived in the hood. You get it. The differences that I saw were hair and money and, well, hell, money wasn’t a worry of mine. Where I grew up (both neighborhoods) was nothing but Black African Americans and Mexicans/Hispanics. We saw white people on tv and a billboard here or there. Again, didn’t mean anything. They were soo far away. Only not really we just didn’t see them often in our everyday lives. I assumed they all lived in the valley, which I didn’t think had a hood and they all had money and cars. My mother and other adults and kids around me always told me how pretty I looked and how beautiful I was. Even when I encountered people of other races and complexions I was complimented. You couldn’t tell me anything. I KNEW I was beautiful and maybe even conceited back then. I saw how light skin and white girls were everywhere on tv, but in my household and my neighbors there were pictures of beautiful, royal black folks all around. TV was just tv which I put in the categories of movies meaning not real just for show.