#whendidyouknowyouwerebeautiful

 Last night a friend of mine named Kila and I sat out in Leimert Park. We listened to the music and watched people dance. Watched folks walk by being their beautiful Black selves. We noticed one person after the next. So much beauty around. We are so fly yet many of us still walk around with negative images about ourselves. Kila and I began to give examples of negative behavior we accepted in the past from others. We laughed harder and harder at each example. None of the examples were funny of course. We laughed because we have grown up and are not the same women who would be in the same situations we were in twenty-five, thirty years ago. Not to say we are not in situations, just not those. Many of those situations were directly related to how we felt about ourselves. About our worth. About our value as human beings. About the contribution we are to the planet. 

There was a time in my life I was so insecure and didn't see myself as smart or beautiful or talented and doubted whether or not I was lovable. During that time I didn't see myself that way. But based on things I repeatedly allowed friends to say to me and ways I let them treat me spoke volumes. I won't give examples here because this post is not about them or what they did or them being abusers or anything like that. This post is about what I chose to continue returning to. In the name of having a friend. Having a lover. Not being lonely. 

This is not just about women. Men experience this too. Men have returned to friendships and other unhealthy relationships too. We have all done it. I think we were born with some sense of love. Self love especially. Then something happens and our perspective about ourselves changes. We believe the lie. The lie about our unworthiness. And then, hopefully, something else happens. And we stop believing that lie. 

Today I know that I am very much worthy. I know that I am lovable. I know that I am beautiful. Now with that one, for me, there are still days I am stuck. I don't always pass by mirrors and think "Look at that fine woman there!" Sometimes though, sometimes I do. But I do look into the mirror and see a woman fierce tenacity and bold dedication to family and community with a deep well of generosity and love and how could that woman not be beautiful? 

Kila and I sat and tried to find that moment. That moment when the gears of life aligned again and we knew, from the inside, that we were great. We were not unlovable or undesirable or any other things we felt about ourselves. To be clear, undesirable was mine, not Kila's. She had her own. But what's your moment? What happened? Who reminded you that you were beautiful? When did you know? 

Define beauty for yourselves. But when did you begin to say to yourselves (again) that you are all right? When did you accept that there might be bad days but you still choose being you? Who told you? What experience did you have? When did you know?