Found in my Facebook memories:
“Being a Black girl means blending your weave at 6am, shaping your brows at 8, picking an undertone appropriate summer outfit at 10, yelling #blacklivesmatter at noon, fighting misogyny at 5, watching Love and Hip Hop at 8, squeezing in a chapter of Chimamanda at 9, and taking it back to the ’99 and the 2000 once the neighborhood is asleep”
Yea, I can totally see why some people are pressed to be like us. We literally took a whole demoralized identity (via world propaganda since forever), and have made it so poppin that the people are stepping on each other’s heads to grab them the latest model of black girl.
I must give myself this pep talk from time to time because unfortunately, my black girlness is almost equally as unlit as it is lit. I personally feel like it takes heavy psychological maneuvering to say “forgive them, for they know not what they do”, when you’re pretty damn sure they know what they do and you’re still reeling from the last time they did it. Shit like “boxer braids” and 20 dollar bamboo earrings at Urban Outfitters is too conscious of a decision for me to afford the privilege of innocence. Reading a blasphemous article about being a modern-day Sarah Baartman is too freaking conscious of a decision for me to pray that prayer. The one I have is more like “smite them with locusts lord”.
But all in all, you really do have to sit down and come to terms with how pressed mainstream is with taking over that they will literally colonize the black off your face. Colonize Your black ass. Your black ass “baby hairs” (aka jacked up edges), your anything black allll the way down to your black struggles (because, reverse racism). I’m just waiting for some badass psychiatrist from the diaspora to coin the term and distribute the pamphlets on WTF this sickness is.
Until then: “you’s a bad muh***** won’t you back that ass up” … duty calls.