God weeps when you hate yourself
#2 Confession of a creole B.A.P (Black American princess)
Hé sha Komen ça va! You may think i’m gon type up some ultra positive things like how you must love yourself, heal yourself and things like that to change your self perception but unfortunately no. It’ll just be me tirelessly ranting.
Writing my feelings out is cathartic. I do enjoy the chase of catching my emotions in a jar like lightning bugs then allowing it to be on full display. I feel whimsical and powerful when I effortlessly embody the role of the alchemist. Alchemy is when I conjure up heavy emotion from the depths of my soul and translate my blues onto something tangible. Creating something out of nothing reminds me that God created us in his image because just like God created the cosmos, destiny and determine the tide— I create art. I create art that’s beautifully intricate like those cosmos. When you look carefully… you can tell that God took his time to create such beautiful moments.
God took his time to create me and yet somehow, I feel like a stranger in my own body.
First off I want to apologize to God for not being satisfied with his creation. I’m sorry but far too many people made me feel like your creation is a sin. I know the creator weeps when he sees me look in mirrors with disapproval.
Some days when I remember what I dislike about myself it makes me want to jump out of my body. I want to peel my skin off because I feel grossly desperate. Desperate because many people outside of myself have told me that I am attractive—conventionally attractive even but I still am not satisfied. How greedy is it to wish for more? I feel like a glutton that’s full from overindulging in societal standards placed on me and that’s why I feel gross. It’s also gross to me because I mean ew disliking things about your body is a bit ugly to me. You have to live with you all your life. You’re born naked and die alone. This is all you’ll know and you decide to waste that precious time hating where your soul reside.
Society acts as if “pretty” people aren’t allowed to be insecure while simultaneously reminding you that no one is exempt from shame. Society reminds you that there’s a problem with everything you do. It reminds you that there’s even a problem with being insecure. Toxic Positivity— is a thing that seems to trend online nowadays. If you mention being insecure and feeling like you lack in any type of way it feels as if certain communities will shame you for feeling that way then try to force you into self love. Though their intentions may be great I feel in order to truly confront uncomfortable issues you must let it marinate. Sit in it by discussing it. Addressing it and then you’ll know how to discard it. Just like in prayer, you call out things that are oppressing your mind and remove it with your words. It sounds more simple than it is but that’s just an example. When it comes to other things beyond my physical appearances, I am confident. Oh yes I am confident about all the profound things that lies beneath the depth of my soul.
I love my furniture but not the home it’s in so I look out the windows with hopes of manifesting a new home. I try to dream up another me. Another home. I have affirmations on my mirror because I believe that someday..the words will jump off the mirror and sink itself into my pores like oil. I want it to bury itself into my skin and hopefully such potency will reach my mind, heart and anything else. I wish my home was filled with more things intstead of dreams. I tend to my insecurities. I water them plants. I water them with words people have said to me then watch it continuously grow and invade my mind like weeds. Eventually I think the weeds in my mind grew so much that I can no longer look out the windows of my soul clearly. The windows are now foggy. My reflection is no longer clear. The weeds cover some of my windows then leave invasive bugs. The bugs then crawl all over my mind they multiply, dirty up my home and cause me to be up most nights. I wonder if I need an exterminator for such infestation. If reading this makes you uncomfortable that’s good because I am successfully conveying what it feels like to carry disdain for my own vessel.
I am a control freak so of course the insecurities hold onto are about things I cannot control like height, or being bow legged. The things I try to control is tiring because I dedicate time to controlling it.
God you’re so clever. You made us complex.. intricately beautiful inside and out but gave us enough free will to find reasons to hate ourselves. Enough free will to hate AND love.
One day I want the sun to rise within me. I want the sunrise to raise me, fill me up with light then inspire me to reach my hands in the air and hug myself. I wish to fully embrace myself like my mama would. One day. When that time comes, if it ever does I’ll be eternally grateful. Till that day I’ll be weaving positive affirmations in my mind.
Embracing my culture and lineage somehow pushes me to love myself more because when I look at my ancestral pictures I am reminded that someone loved someone that looks just like me. The reason I exist is because someone loves the same features I may hate.
I wrote this in hopes of finding like minded individuals that feels the same. I hope I spoke for the unspoken. I hope this confession gave someone a voice and allowed them to be heard. It’s ok to be insecure but what’s not ok is allowing that insecurity to stick and stay around for years. I said I wasn’t gon say no positive ish but here I am…anyways here’s a reminder to speak life into yourself. Yell it if you have to. There’s power in the tongue. Choose carefully what you speak over yourself and ALWAYS have intention. Be intentional nigga.
—Bye xoxo
So real
this was so beautiful, thank you for sharing