“Our skin color is a piece of lingerie that we can’t take off so why worry about it?”
I have beautiful skin color. It’s the color of cocoa & chocolate however many treat it like trash and because of this it took me a very long time to wipe my eyes of harmful stares and being put on the “bottom shelf” while all the other white vases are put on the top shelf.
It took me awhile for me to realize that there is nothing wrong about the color of my vase and that what is more important any day of the week is what I put in it.
Some are vases of hate and sometimes the hate is self hate. Imagine falling into the trap of subconsciously wanting to accommodate others for being so uncomfortable and inconvenienced by my skin.
With an aura of, “Oh I’m so sorry, let me shrink smaller.”
But you know what?
I’m actually not sorry.
Because my skin is alive and she tells a story. My skin is the same color as my mothers skin which is the same color of her mothers skin which is the same color of her mothers skin. There is no greater honor than getting to wear the skin color of the woman who walked before you as some royal robe.
A royal robe that passes from generation to generation , along with the grace and elegance of the women who wore the robe each generation before . Even when the colors of our shift and change our skin is still alive with her own story, her own essence, a unique beauty.
Sometimes I can’t see my own robe under the hateful comments that are thrown on it and when that happens I have to pick off the trash and rubbish that was thrown on top until I can finally see my robe again , I have to detangle the hate from my satin .
Phylicia Rashad once said something to the effect of the importance of even in times where you are being put down by others always be able to see and be intouch with oneself.
My blog is called underneath your lingerie and often as a black woman my skin has been treated like the opposite of lingerie however while it would be nice to be treated like lingerie by others – what counts the most above all is I treat myself like lingerie. My skin. My essence. My spirit bound in lace .
When I get the “daggers” or passive aggressive racism or daggers from others eyes I’ve at times thought to myself… “ well it’s not like my skin color comes off , what do these people want me to do?”
I’m so innocent about it. Even in a world where my great great grandfather was lynched .
I can’t separate myself from the royal robes of my body more than he could and he paid the ultimate price for which I bend and pay homage to him on my knees. My great great grandfather who I never knew.
Our skin is like lace. Woven in gorgeous shades and hues of cocoa. Innocent and open, waiting for us to slip into every morning .
I can’t unzip myself from my skin color like I can unzip myself from my dress. But make no mistake about it. My skin color is my dress – there’s so much more to me underneath it. But also she’s beautiful. With a scent, a spirit, a part of my great grandfather is part of my robe. As also a part of you and a part of me. Our robe isn’t limited by our patterns or our designs. It’s a frequency.
And to celebrate cocoa lingerie here are just a few pictures of just how classy, sophisticated, and high end that chocolate skin can be. This isn’t an elimination of other colors – just a gentle reminder (to myself) that our skin is beautiful too.
Source. (p.s. this outfit is so badass to me!)
cute skirt. | source.
source.
I am the same race as .