I used to always straighten my hair.
I was ridiculed when I stopped.
One time, my friends shared a Bob Marley song on our group chat. They were making fun of me.
body image, hair, bullying, beauty standards
For years I straightened my hair and wore makeup. I forgot what my natural hair looked like.
On weekends, I would wash my hair and let it dry it in its natural state.
It was such a nice feeling.
body image, hair, beauty standards, bullying
My mother only likes straight hair.
She’d always straighten our hair, using various gels and keratin.
She wanted to straighten it in any way possible.
hair, bullying, beauty standards, body image
I’m really thin,
And I always get bullied because of my body type.
My friends are always joking about it and making fun of me.
I try to play along and pretend it doesn’t upset me,
but I can’t.
body image, bullying
Brushing my hair as a child was a real burden to me.
My mother would pull it really hard when she brushed it.
It was as if she was punishing me for having “bad” hair.
Combing it was a difficult process.
“Your hair is disgusting. I’m sick of it,” she used to tell me.
She used to push me away if I cried because it hurt, saying,
“Get up. I won’t brush it for you.”
body image, hair, beauty standards, bullying
My height used to always be a major issue for me.
Ever since elementary school,
The first thing people ask me is,
“Why are you so tall?”
Mama likes to make remarks about everything:
“Why do you look like that?”
“Why do you look pale?”
“Why are there dark circles under your eyes?”
“Why are there dark spots around your mouth?”
“Why are you eating like that?”
“Why are your fingers so long?”
I was small in size from childhood up until I went to college.
My brother was a bit like me.
He is a year older than me.
His body started to change around puberty,
But mine didn’t.
My sister is 8 years younger than me.
They were both chubby,
And I was skinny.
I’m tall,
And a little chubby.
So what?
It’s not a crime.
But in our perfect, flawless society,
It’s a great opportunity,
For laughter,
And ha-has.
Sure, go ahead.
I’m a dark-skinned girl.
I was, of course, bullied all throughout my school and university years.
I was called “chocolate.”
It used to upset me,
But I didn’t tell mama.
I was scared of her.
She, herself, would introduce me to her friends by saying,
“My daughter is black and ugly.”
body image, racism, bullying