Being in my twenties, I realize being black is exactly what I am.
Hey, social media, this is my official go f**k yourself, because I love every inch of my body and I will not apologize for that.
but don’t you know
it’s okay not to know?
I can’t speak for other generations but I doubt there’s ever been this much pressure to appear happy all the time. Facebook and Instagram are the battlegrounds on which we fight to prove just how happy we are and nobody takes first place.
Beauty isn’t defined by our appearance, its defined by our minds, our souls and ourselves.
Take the pictures. Take them all. If you’re feeling it, take 100 in a row. Soak in this moment and say, “Damn, I look good.” Because you do.
Shouldn’t our automatic response as a society be to commend and praise the young woman for defending herself against a predator? Shouldn’t the headlines say more about how a random man grabbed her and how THIS behaviour is unacceptable?
“My mom takes pictures of every single food we eat and then has to tell her friends about it and by the time she’s done dinner is already gone!”
Body image. Two little words that spark so many thoughts and emotions to absolutely anyone who hears them. Some days you wake up feeling like the hottest person in the world.
We’re queer above all, like it or not.