Existing black and female is very expensive
Existing Black is a cheque. Black life is completely commodified. We exist not to exist. Black bodies are biologically bigger than most, our luscious lips, hips, dips. That juicy phat ass now tuned BBL. Nonsense. Our hair that defies gravity and our skins that absorb the sun, it’s all expensive these days.
Ever heard of rise per size clothing? Well it is a thing. Basic clothes are not designed for us. We exist as an after thought because we come after thoughts. ‘Oh by the way, the Blacks, don’t forget those poor people darlin’.
Don’t get me started on how taking care of the very unprocessed hair that comes out of our scalps, has become the most expensive asset to maintain. All I want is to exist, Black, in Africa but I don’t think there is anything more difficult. Just when you think you can breathe a sigh of relief because what could go wrong with just being you… ‘they’ give you an answer, suppose more like a price tag.
Women love looking beautiful, there exist mechanisms to make women beautiful. Make up, hair accessories, clothes, shoes etc. Yet all these things do not exist for Black women. Sure there are strides being made, but only a few can access those because still the darkie that creates it has to eat as well.
My shade of make up does not exist. TO THIS DAY. I have to purchase three shades for the perfect shade of make up notwithstanding the fact that there are copious amounts of makeup shades on the market. Why must a black women think she can be anything but a servant and look like one.
The world does not want to see beautiful black women. We are already disgustingly sexualised by everyone, so what could we possibly be trying to achieve by wanting to dare look pretty.
You get into shops looking for shoes. Many Black women I know have thick large feet and are forced to buy mens shoes because dainty shoes for them do not exist. It is actually incredible how black women are punished for being, more so being black in the world. Even in the very Africa they call home.
I love being a Black woman. I just wish it was not so hard to exist, and be constantly reminded of my inadequacy and inferiority in the world because I do not meet conventional standards of beauty.
Despite the confidence I might have, and the consciousness I may possess, and the theories to justify and affirm my worth and place in the world , sometimes it gets to me that I cannot just exist, and be, without having to continuously fight for my life when I get out of the house into the world.
The world does not want to see black women in the world. They exist to be exploited, abused, appropriated and when done with them, discarded. I will never forgive the world for this atrocity.
