Tales from a Black Girl


The truth is you never really felt pretty because you’ve been seen as a sexual conquest since you can remember.

Your pretty full lips were bashed and mocked until they were possessed by a race other than your own. You pawed at the light roasted hue of your skin while others yearned to get the perfect tan.

Your curves were seen as a one way ticket to the gold mine between your legs instead of the glorious work of art that they truly are. They may mock your hair for its’ untamed mass of curls and unknown beauty, but all they wanna do is feel how soft it is.


Loving you isn’t a norm honey, it’s a rare occurrence that is met with praise and condescending smiles. Because who in their right mind would stoop down and love a little black girl?  Sure they’re hot but have you seen how angry they get? I mean my god, they’re absolutely crazy. But, they must be pretty good in bed.

But oh not you, you’re a different kind of black girl. You’re not like the rest of them, sometimes I forget you’re even black so it’s not even a big deal.

Well I am, big surprise. And I will not be numbed down to your ideal beauty, but will show you the wide spectrum.

I am black. I will not deny that.

I am black, and that is beautiful.




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