WARNING: POSSIBLY TRIGGERING POST.
Being a girl-child wasn’t safe.
Without a father who protects, a poor Black girl-child is fair game.
Especially if she is shapely.
I was an unprotected girl-child.
From six to seventeen, my body was a problem due to other people’s fetishes.
It’s a lot to navigate to stay alive.
So I hid.
I hid in plain sight.
I hid in silence.
I hid in books.
Big, baggy, boy clothes worked the best.
I hated my female body for attracting attention, as if it were her fault.
I hated my booty because it is defined and protrudes out, inviting grabs, slaps, pinches, and rubs from women and men like.
I hated the hungry stares and vulture-like voices asking me if I wanted a “back door” delivery.
Or if they could eat out my ass like it were a joke I should find funny.
It took me DECADES to stop punishing my body for being a Black female body.
In December 2018, I reclaimed my body as my own with a dragon tattoo that covers three fourths of the right side of my body.
I have been ashamed of my body because of what has been done to it. As I heal and mature I am learning my booty was NEVER at fault.
I was never at fault.
I did not bring it on myself.
I did not make them hurt me.
I am now fifty and am starting to feel safe in my female/feminine body.
I’m starting to not be ashamed of not being a size 2.
I’m eating what I want without worrying about more celulite.
I think I am fat.
My Pilates instructor sees me as athletic.
Some people see me as beautiful.
Black girl booty produces a gap in the back of my pants. I’m learning how to dress me with clothes that fit my small waist, thick thighs, and bulbous butt.
I bought three pair of Pilates pants today because they made me feel like a goddess!!! Who knew the right fit would usher in shameless self-acceptance.
My body is not perfect by any standard.
It may not be perfect, but it’s mine.
I love me.
I accept me.
I approve of me.
I approve of this body.
Title: Black Girl Booty Shame