I never thought much about me.

My brown skin that made the pretty too bright light skinned dream boat sail past me because I was dark as night and he wasn’t trying to see me.

My pretty hair was so long and lush but the fact that my face ears and neck had to get burned by hot steel in order to straighten it made it a nuisance. Especially once the nasty girl played in my hair to give me ringworms. What a tragedy.

I guess I got what I asked for. I didn’t want my long hair so half of it came out after that.

I never thought much of me.

They said I looked like a cabbage patch. Or Webster’s little sister.

I mean one light skinned dream didn’t want me but the light skinned dream with Hazel eyes liked me enough to propose to me. I’ll never forget he was five I was three.

My mother had the longest talk to me that night about how I wasn’t ready to be thinking about marriage. Maybe that’s why I avoided it in my youth. That night she talked me to death. I was only three or maybe four. It wasn’t that serious.

Anyway. As the years grew I noticed girls would come around for my relationship with my mama. She never differentiated. What she did for me she did for whatever friend was with me. There was always someone.

I started seeing jealousy early. Not directed towards me. Other women towards my mother. See I grew up as an observer. Sit still be quiet and watch. I read a lot. I had little time for the boob tube to reprogram my mind. And she was beautiful. Inside and out. She kept her defenses up so as not to get back bitten but if she was for you she would empty her treasury for the next person. I would often remember women running from abusive men camping in our house for weeks with three children. We only had a one bedroom. It was cramped. But our home was never lacking love.

Anyway. I guess some just had difficulty believing a person could be that kind. So they showed quiet disdain for my mom all the while pretending to be her friend. Obviously I couldn’t help but notice when it happened in my life.

The guy interested in me. Probably because I’m not interested in him. The hair still draped down my back. Oh that’s a problem? I’ll cut it. The physique? I’ll hide in boy clothes. My mother? You can have her. My intelligence? I’ll do this ghetto princess thing so no one well ever know. Oh. My singing? Nah you’re right I can’t sing. I’ll smoke my voice away. Wait wait. My words? I’ll stop metaphorically blowing the minds of the masses. Or at the very least entertaining them with my flair for the dramatics in my spoken word liveliness.

Whatever I must do to be accepted.

So I just finished a weight loss journey. My first of many for the year. I would catch myself eating to make others feel comfortable with my strides. Not working out as hard as I can so others wouldn’t feel uncomfortable.

I would stop posting my ten mile run/walks. I found myself caring about being accepted again. Not understanding the only people unwilling to celebrate successes are those that either don’t do what needs to be done in order to get those successes their own selves or don’t want you to get those types of results. It’s fine for a random stranger. But when they know what kind of trials you have been made to overcome they find their excuses holding little to no value.

So here I am working hard. Still working hard. Still pushing to be the best me.

There are people out there that want to see you fail. Maybe not fail. Maybe just not be better than they perceive themselves to be.

Maybe they don’t want the guys to give another woman the attention they feel will validate their existence. Maybe they don’t want the success that naturally comes to people that work hard at what they believe in. I mean they say the way you do one thing is how you do everything.

I go hard in the gym. But since I fail in the gym so easily it sets me up for success in life.

So I never thought much of myself.

Until God opened my eyes. Now I think the world of myself. I’m a Kings kid. Got my Queen Esther flow going on. Yes. I believe I have been chosen for such a time as this.

See God chiseled these features. He gave me my body. I mean it was him that made my waist 12 inches smaller than my hips and bust. He did this. Gave me my nose my almond shaped eyes. My blemish free skin. He gave me this beauty mark underneath my left eye. I don’t have to paint anything on. He gave me the voice. A desire for reading so I can play with words.

I was fearfully and wonderfully made.

So. I have spent so much time talking about my negatives I almost believed it. No. My body was made for power. A powerful woman. I am so awesome. I will focus on my greats. On my abilities and my accomplishments. Whether spoken aloud or that quiet smile I keep on my face knowing I was able.

I let go of all excuses. I release whatever pain was hindering me.

And I flew.

And here are my results. 12 weeks of work. Yes. I did it. I may have only lost twenty pounds but twenty is better than none. I got off my behind. I stopped flicking through my amazon prime membership for anything to catch my attention.

See I caught my own attention. I like the mirror now.

I understand there will be others that will not like me but what about the few who will. See the negatives are not my problem. It cannot change me. It cannot stop my drive or my motivation. It has to propel me.

So it does.

I may not be everything I’ve always wanted to be.

But I am further along than I used to be. So how about that. I focused on me. Forgot about others and was able to do something so productive.

How’s that for a revelation.

Be better not bitter. And watch your hand unfold. It may just be the winning one everyone was betting on, they just never knew the underdog had it.

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