Naked.

If I walked around naked, would that be reason enough for you to stop, or would it be the reason you go the whole length? If I walked naked, would you find time to admire my unfiltered truth, or would you pant in uncouth desires? If we all walked around naked, would we have a better understanding of our unmasked scars, or will it be just another reason to hurl condemnations? If we all walked naked, wouldn’t the world have lesser lies? Would you find a reason to hide, better still, where would you hide it? I have learned to be passionate about my flaws and having imperfections, at the end of the day aren’t we all struggling to figure this out. As a woman, I believe in freedom of expression, freedom of being able to be me, but who’s the real me?

Behind closed doors, there’s nothing perfect. What happens when you indulge your soul? I am tired of fake news, fake friends, fake people. I just realized the other day, staring at my face, wiping off my makeup, I didn’t like myself. I didn’t like who I was. A friend asked me what my weakness was, and I couldn’t mention it, primarily because I was afraid she wouldn’t understand. I have held a fake face, I have had fake smiles, I have sucked my tummy in for so many pictures, and I decided I’m done. I am tired of being there, just hearing, not listening. I felt trapped, I looked into my reflection, and I couldn’t recognize the person staring at me. I felt like I have lived over two decades trying to please others, and I never listened to me. I wondered how it felt to be liberated. I tried too hard.
The human race has held such a believable array of unbelief that gets us all swirled up in a confused stance. Self-acceptance is such a hard concept, I have had such a hard time convincing my little sister that being black is okay, that having kinky hair is fantastic and it is perfectly fine to be of voluptuous sculpture. Then I realized, I was preaching water but taking wine. I had to accept myself for who I am. The question is, do you?