My Cuteness
I was cute. Really. I was.
My legs have always been one of my best features. Long and shapely like a pony's. Back then, it was nothing for my legs to take me from downtown Manhattan all the way up to Harlem. My legs showed. It was nothing for me to take just a couple of step classes and watch the muscles quickly start to pop. My eyes were bright and innocent and dare I say, even hopeful? Now, don't misunderstand, I was far, far, far from innocent in my younger days, but looking at this picture here, I see something in my eyes that looks like hope. I remember trusting but not trusting everyone. It was like, "please be good to me, please don't hurt me,,, but I won't be surprised if you do".
Gosh. Why can't we recognize our fly-ness while its in progress? Back then I felt so insecure about my looks. Never appreciating my good attributes, always comparing them to some chic's who I perceived as better than mine. Why did I take those stupid comments from the people in my life (about loosing some weight (which was a perfect weight), combing my hair (which people bought weaves to try to emulate) or having fat cheeks, to heart like I did?
Once, and I will always remember the impact this incident had on my whole day, but one Thanksgiving, I tried really hard to look nice. I had bought a new outfit (which I hardly ever did for an event), had gotten my hair done by a professional (which happened once a year or less), put some makeup on my eyes just like I had seen in a magazine. I was feeling pretty fly, and cute. For most of that day, I felt really good. Then, a family friend, a male, came to me and looked me up and down. He spread his arms out wide, as if to signify an expansion, while looking at my body!!
I was shocked!
I was hurt!
I was devastated!
My ego was like a big ol’ balloon that is not popped, but that quickly leaks air. You know when you puncture it by the mouth how it does? Pssssssss. When all the air was out, I sat down, afraid that all of a sudden everyone would indeed realize that I gained weight. Suddenly I didn’t want dessert – well, I did want dessert, I love dessert, but didn’t feel so good eating the sweet potato pie, the German Chocolate cake, the cookies- and I didn’t want to get up from the chair for anything – afraid someone would notice my big fat butt.
Yes. I let that jerk ruin my whole day. That’s the kind of insecure bucket of mess I was back then. Letting any negative comments totally change my reality.
But looking at this picture, I do wish I appreciated how wonderful, how healthy, how perfect I was.
Even now, I complain to myself about my weight, my skin, my hair, my butt, looking at old pictures and reminiscing about how cute I was back then.
But, 30 years from now, what on earth will I think about how I look now?? I will probably see a picture of my present day self and remember how easily I jumped out of a car without loud protests from my back, how yoga wasn’t nothing but a thang back then, how young men still checked me out sometimes, thinking I was 10 years younger than I was, how my skin still did glow most days, how I still had a completely full head of bouncy curly hair and how I could still wear the hell outta a pair of high-heeled boots.
I will probably wish I had appreciated myself more during that past time of supreme cuteness and relative youth and wish I had just sat in comfortable realization that I was a cutie and DA BOMB!
So you know what I’m gonna do? I am going to appreciate my cuteness today, right now. I am going to give myself a facial, tighten up this hair of mine,,,,a little, wear a pretty outfit, and walk the streets like my sh!t don’t stink. I’m gonna find someone to take a picture, cause my particular cuteness is one-of-a-kind, so somebody better capture it now.(insert finger snap)
Shoooooot! I aughta be in pictures………
I came across a picture of myself that I had not seen in years. I looked to be about 24 then. And I was really cute! My skin was perfect, my hair full and curly and dark. My body; tight, like a young woman's body is supposed to be. I always had a bit of a challenge with my tummy (that's where the fat likes to go first and I do HATE a crunch) but overall: my body was hot!
My legs have always been one of my best features. Long and shapely like a pony's. Back then, it was nothing for my legs to take me from downtown Manhattan all the way up to Harlem. My legs showed. It was nothing for me to take just a couple of step classes and watch the muscles quickly start to pop. My eyes were bright and innocent and dare I say, even hopeful? Now, don't misunderstand, I was far, far, far from innocent in my younger days, but looking at this picture here, I see something in my eyes that looks like hope. I remember trusting but not trusting everyone. It was like, "please be good to me, please don't hurt me,,, but I won't be surprised if you do".
Gosh. Why can't we recognize our fly-ness while its in progress? Back then I felt so insecure about my looks. Never appreciating my good attributes, always comparing them to some chic's who I perceived as better than mine. Why did I take those stupid comments from the people in my life (about loosing some weight (which was a perfect weight), combing my hair (which people bought weaves to try to emulate) or having fat cheeks, to heart like I did?
Once, and I will always remember the impact this incident had on my whole day, but one Thanksgiving, I tried really hard to look nice. I had bought a new outfit (which I hardly ever did for an event), had gotten my hair done by a professional (which happened once a year or less), put some makeup on my eyes just like I had seen in a magazine. I was feeling pretty fly, and cute. For most of that day, I felt really good. Then, a family friend, a male, came to me and looked me up and down. He spread his arms out wide, as if to signify an expansion, while looking at my body!!
I was shocked!
I was hurt!
I was devastated!
My ego was like a big ol’ balloon that is not popped, but that quickly leaks air. You know when you puncture it by the mouth how it does? Pssssssss. When all the air was out, I sat down, afraid that all of a sudden everyone would indeed realize that I gained weight. Suddenly I didn’t want dessert – well, I did want dessert, I love dessert, but didn’t feel so good eating the sweet potato pie, the German Chocolate cake, the cookies- and I didn’t want to get up from the chair for anything – afraid someone would notice my big fat butt.
Yes. I let that jerk ruin my whole day. That’s the kind of insecure bucket of mess I was back then. Letting any negative comments totally change my reality.
But looking at this picture, I do wish I appreciated how wonderful, how healthy, how perfect I was.
Even now, I complain to myself about my weight, my skin, my hair, my butt, looking at old pictures and reminiscing about how cute I was back then.
But, 30 years from now, what on earth will I think about how I look now?? I will probably see a picture of my present day self and remember how easily I jumped out of a car without loud protests from my back, how yoga wasn’t nothing but a thang back then, how young men still checked me out sometimes, thinking I was 10 years younger than I was, how my skin still did glow most days, how I still had a completely full head of bouncy curly hair and how I could still wear the hell outta a pair of high-heeled boots.
I will probably wish I had appreciated myself more during that past time of supreme cuteness and relative youth and wish I had just sat in comfortable realization that I was a cutie and DA BOMB!
So you know what I’m gonna do? I am going to appreciate my cuteness today, right now. I am going to give myself a facial, tighten up this hair of mine,,,,a little, wear a pretty outfit, and walk the streets like my sh!t don’t stink. I’m gonna find someone to take a picture, cause my particular cuteness is one-of-a-kind, so somebody better capture it now.(insert finger snap)
Shoooooot! I aughta be in pictures………
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