Growing up, you're taught to love your body no matter what, but being surrounded by all these unatainable beauty standards made it difficult sometimes. I personally grew up around blue-eyed blonde girls or asians with straight, silky hair... being a chubby, curly haired african girl made it kind of hard to percept myself as beautiful no matter how hard I tried. I used to only like white barbies because I hoped that if I tried hard enough, I could someday be like Barbie.
But something woke me up once I turned 12.. I remember reciving a comment saying I looked mixed as a form of enderament. I remember how that person was insintuating that my beauty came from the (alleged) non-african part of me. All it effectedly was telling me was that I was too beautiful to just be black. That really put my eyes into perspective because I know that I am beautiful whether I am mixed or not. I am not beautiful inspite of my african roots or my "blackness", I am beautiful because of it.
YOU ARE READING
The Beauty of a Cracked Mirror
PoesieThis is my collection of poems that I'd like to share. I don't sensor my feelings so what may be "dark" to some is just pain that I want to vent. On that note... enjoy!
