Being a black female in the U.S. is a complete mind-f**k. There is a psychological warfare against the black female that goes largely unnoticed or unspoken, often even by it's victims. The images and messages being implanted in the minds of Americans are covertly and overtly anti-female of African descent. I am not implying that females or males of other "races" or ethnicities aren't also targeted. I am, however, only able to speak from my own experience.
All my life I have been given the compliment that I have beautiful eyes. As a child, my hazel green eyes changed colors from grey to brown to hazel green. Yet, I still wished I had blue eyes. I sometimes walked around with a towel or pillowcase on my head because even though I had a head full of long thick hair, it was not straight. Getting it straightened was torture, especially to my hair. I don't recall specific messages saying long straight hair and blue eyes were the most beautiful, but clearly the images I received conveyed that message. There were very few images that resembled me at that time.
Many years later, the same images prevail in the media and the same messages are imparted. I realize now that this has been going on at least as far back as my grandmother's childhood, and farther. African features are looked upon as ugly even as plastic surgeries for lip, buttocks, and cheekbone enhancements are on the rise. Many women of African descent in America are straightening their hair or getting weaves, starving themselves or going into depression because of their wide hips and ample behinds, and denying their culture and heritage.
I have gone through all of these things and still struggle with some. No matter how much I know and see the beauty in how my Father the Mighty King made me, I am faced with judgement daily. African women are not created to look like European women, and for a reason. Our hips are wide to give birth to civilization, our breasts are shaped to feed civilization, and our shoulders are wide to carry civilization. My lips are full so that you may feel the passion I have for you, my Sun kissed skin is my armor, and my tightly curled hair is my crown.
Though I know the beauty of my heritage and the royalty of my lineage, the slings and arrows of outrageous Euro-centric ideals can become overwhelming at times.What hurts more is to see my sisters suffering and losing the battle. What hurts most is being stereotyped and vilified by a society who is believing the hype. Women of African descent in America (and possibly the world) are suffering from post traumatic stress, only the trauma hasn't ended. I pray everyone sees our beauty one day. If you can't, keep it to yourself. Peace and blessings.
All my life I have been given the compliment that I have beautiful eyes. As a child, my hazel green eyes changed colors from grey to brown to hazel green. Yet, I still wished I had blue eyes. I sometimes walked around with a towel or pillowcase on my head because even though I had a head full of long thick hair, it was not straight. Getting it straightened was torture, especially to my hair. I don't recall specific messages saying long straight hair and blue eyes were the most beautiful, but clearly the images I received conveyed that message. There were very few images that resembled me at that time.
Many years later, the same images prevail in the media and the same messages are imparted. I realize now that this has been going on at least as far back as my grandmother's childhood, and farther. African features are looked upon as ugly even as plastic surgeries for lip, buttocks, and cheekbone enhancements are on the rise. Many women of African descent in America are straightening their hair or getting weaves, starving themselves or going into depression because of their wide hips and ample behinds, and denying their culture and heritage.
I have gone through all of these things and still struggle with some. No matter how much I know and see the beauty in how my Father the Mighty King made me, I am faced with judgement daily. African women are not created to look like European women, and for a reason. Our hips are wide to give birth to civilization, our breasts are shaped to feed civilization, and our shoulders are wide to carry civilization. My lips are full so that you may feel the passion I have for you, my Sun kissed skin is my armor, and my tightly curled hair is my crown.
Though I know the beauty of my heritage and the royalty of my lineage, the slings and arrows of outrageous Euro-centric ideals can become overwhelming at times.What hurts more is to see my sisters suffering and losing the battle. What hurts most is being stereotyped and vilified by a society who is believing the hype. Women of African descent in America (and possibly the world) are suffering from post traumatic stress, only the trauma hasn't ended. I pray everyone sees our beauty one day. If you can't, keep it to yourself. Peace and blessings.
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