pgp226: UdoU… Sepia

I learned that my body is perfectly imperfect…

I’m aware that “sexy” is all in the mind.

Sepia

My self-photography is an evolution of sorts. I see myself differently now at 32 then I did at 25 when I first started. My thoughts about beauty had changed as soon as I embraced my natural, God-given hair. I no longer need to beat my mug to makeup submission, regardless if my skin isn’t “perfect”. I look at my scars, stretch marks on not-so-firm breasts and tummy as a sign of a life lived, especially after two babies. I learned that my body is perfectly imperfect, even though I wanted a beautifully curvaceous one over the years. I’m aware that “sexy” is all in the mind. My thighs create their own rhythm. I’m cool with being corny as hell at times and I laugh at my own silliness. I used to get teased mercilessly about my legs growing up. My smile is my best asset. My journey to SelfLove is far from over…it’s only the beginning.

body image

i was once told
by a guy that i dated
for a brief moment
that he actually preferred
curvy girls
i looked down at my
slim, straight as an arrow
body and told him
nice knowing ya.

for years i’ve dealt
with my body issues
seeing women with
exaggerated nuances
of femininity pissed me off
an agitated ant bed ready
to lash out their fury on
someone’s feet
breasts, hips, asses
and thighs oh my!
yeah, oh my…damn?!?
where’s mine?
shortchanged big time.

pregnancy #1
radiantly beautiful?
not!
my hair was parched
so i chopped it
my face damn near
unrecognizable
with the acne that
invaded my skin
ooh wee look at my body!
gorgeous, lush, full, and
round with baby
i guess i’ll dealt with
pimples just to keep
this body.

then something happened
grandpop passed beginning of
November of 2005 and
my tears and heart dropped
anchor to my feet
unable to travel to bid
my final farewell
i became sick and depressed
only the sick part worsened
fever weakened my body
a cough that clung onto me
like a wet t-shirt
a gift from Florida humidity
my body ached
fell on thousands of needles
too many to pick off
days later rushed to the e.r.
the doc said to me
you may not make it
your left lung is on the
verge of collapsing
pneumonia says so
need to take the baby
at 29 ½ weeks if you
can’t fight

what? hell no..i’m fighting!
bruce lee jeet kune do
fight to the death since
life inside of me is waiting
to meet mommy and daddy
death almost had me in
its grip, yet i was talking
like a wounded warrior
making the ultimate promise
to end the war

icu isn’t a happy place
walls held sadness and death
from the endless invasive procedures
transfusions, medicine coursing
through my veins
taking a vast trip to the unknown
coming in and out of consciousness
i wondered if life’s marathon
would be cut short
not wanting to go on
no water to sip
no towel to graze my brow
just collapse like a ragdoll
discarded by a child interested
in another shiny new toy

ten days after a victorious battle
a day before thanksgiving
i emerged a different
woman and mother-to-be
my body was scarred bruised and battered
from weapons of mass infiltration
the hospital offered to nurse me
back to health
gave birth to first prince

on 12/31/05
beautiful sight to behold
complete with snuggles
and tons of love
winning the battle was
clearly worth everything
i’ve gone through

so when i look at my body now
after two princes
i know my war isn’t over
however the agenda is much
more important than what i
look like to others
still running the marathon as well
yeah, i’m far from perfection
yeah, no six-packs on this stomach
maybe a two-liter
yeah, i’m no video girl
or chocolate Barbie
no room for my afro in
those videos anyway
yeah, the commodores aren’t singing
to me that i’m a brickhouse
my breasts aren’t perky
my butt isn’t high
and mighty and round
i’m far from considered
“thick” or whatever
yeah, my skin isn’t the same
shade of mocha all over
however, i love the respect
i have for my body
it’s won battles for me
so i don’t have room to
complain about not
having serena williams’ curves.

my advice?
life is too short
love yourself
don’t worry about
what you don’t have
enjoy the imperfections
that are the truest of
beauty that define you.
*bth

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