Growing up I never viewed myself as being the greatest beauty. I was just a skinny child with big hands and even bigger feet. Just like other girls I was constantly told how much I looked like my Mom. I was the spitting image of a woman whom everyone made out to be a beauty queen, no way possible! I had a gap, my Mom didn’t. I had big feet, my Mom had tiny feet. I had thick, painfully uncombable nappy hair, she had long hair that she was constantly styling differently with ease. Note that my Mom did not have a relaxer during this time. The only real thing I seemed to have going for me was intelligence. Even when it came to that it seemed like I was never smart enough.
During pre-school and kindergarten I went to a private Christian school with mostly Black children and White teachers. All of the teachers that surrounded me had this blonde hair that blew in the wind and even the one White girl in my class (whom I remembered as being the favorite to our teacher) had long blonde hair. All my Barbies that I had at home and played with at school had blonde hair and blue eyes. For these reasons I began to hope and pray every night that God would turn me into a White girl with blonde hair that was easy to comb through. There were multiple mornings when I would wake up and look at my skin just to see if it happened. It never happened…obviously.
A preacher finished a sermon by saying ‘Next week I am going to preach about liars. To prepare you I want you to read Mark 17.’ On the following week the preacher began by saying, ‘Last week I asked you to read Mark 17. If you have read it, please raise your hand.’ Nearly every hand in the congregation went up. Smiling the preacher said ‘You are the very people I want to talk to today…Mark has only 16 chapters.
For those who don’t know I joined the ranks of women who said “No” to the creamy crack after my last relaxer on October 31, 2009. Initially when I decided to stop relaxing my hair my Ace (my Dad’s term for best friend) had decided to go natural. When she told me this I remember thinking, “This girl is a d*mn fool.” To understand my logic you would have to see her hair back in high school. It was long, thick, tons of body…everything I had been wanting my hair to be. Why was she giving this up?
The Black community is constantly within a battle between themselves. Constantly trying to divide ourselves up for ridiculous things. Team Light Skin vs. Team Dark Skin
Team AKA vs. Team DST (What happens if you’re a nice brown color I wonder) being probably the most infamous battle between ourselves. Well now within the past two years a new battle has been developing: Team Natural vs. Team Relaxed. Yep, that’s right we’re fighting over the chemicals or lack thereof in our hair. I would say it’s ridiculous, but any community that likes to divide themselves up over the color of their skin as if White people aren’t looking at us the same can be expected to develop these kinds of problems.
While having a conversation with some male co-workers I discovered I was a gold digger. Yep, after 21 years of living I’m finally discovering this. I wasn’t labeled this because I boasted about how every man I date pays for my
car note, cell phone bill, college tuition meals on dates, rather because I said chivalry isn’t dead. Yep, that’s why I’m finally discovering my gold digger status…because I believe in chivalry. There’s a constant debate it seems as to rather or not chivalry is still a living thing amongst my generation. Perhaps it’s because I was raised in the South with both of my parents and had the opportunity to view things that I admired/disliked about how they conducted their relationship. My Dad always pays for me and my Mom’s meal if we’re just out eating for no reason. He usually opens the doors for us at restaurants, not the car. Sadly this is about all I can think of when it comes to my Dad and his acts of chivalry.
As human beings there are a few places one prefers not to have people approach them. For some it’s at the doctors office others church. Everyone has their reasoning behind why they don’t like people approaching them at these places. Maybe they met their ex at the place, perhaps their horoscope said they’d meet a person that was up to no good at the place
shout out to everyone freaking out about that 13th sign. Well here’s a few places where it’s best not to approach me…EVER!