Have you ever met someone who couldn’t take a compliment? I was the best example of this. My way of saying thank you, was by complimenting you, and giving you the affirmations I couldn’t be bold enough to say to myself.
It’s because I grew up with an acknowledgement that I will never be enough, or at least,
I never felt enough.
I was always told I’m too dark, or my hair (when not straightened) was too “nappy”, or too short, or that I was too chubby, or too whatever adjective they wanted to tell me as a little girl to make me feel insecure. The only thing is that these insecurities didn’t stay in my girlhood but grew into my womanhood.
What do you do when you have an insecure girl trapped in your adult woman’s body?
What do you do when you’re so insecure that all you do is attract other insecure people?
What about when you have men tell you that even though you’re dark skin, your beauty has a competitive edge with lighter toned woman. How about when you have friends who project their ideal image on you, and comment on how much more beautiful, successful, and richer random women who walk by or on social media, are than you?And don’t forget family members who are quick to comment on your weight gains or how sick you are because you lost weight…
Well, a quick fix would be, a waist trainer, some lightening cream, a face beat to nonexistent gods (sorry y’all the Christian in me can’t say beat to the gawds) lots of money, and hair with the most laid edges you could ever think of.
But, it’ll always feel like a quick fix. Eventually the makeup comes off, eventually the waist trainer actually does cut off some circulation to your airwaves, eventually your African roots crowns over your European standards for hair.
I think I might have insulted a person or two with that last paragraph, but we’re revealing the actual Queens that we are… right?
I’m not putting down makeup, or styles of hair. They aren’t the issue! Makeup-less me in the top photo is just as attractive to me as makeup-full me in the bottom. I’m not coming for that.
Im attacking masks!
There are a trillion types of masks, I’ve only been speaking on my own.
The mask of working 70+ hours a week not because you need the money, but because it’s less time being alone.
The mask of that boyfriend who helps you keep up appearances, but in reality he leaves your heart in constant pieces.
The mask for your pride.
The mask for your brokenness.
The mask for your pain.
The mask for your molestation.
The mask for your depression.
The bad attitude and push everybody away mask.
The ” I have it all together and don’t need no help” mask .
The “smoke, drink, and have sex anytime I want because I can” mask.
The “I don’t need no man” mask.
The “let me keep it together with facades and fakeness” mask.
My masks could never cover up what was ugly within me. I couldn’t contour my spirit to look pleasant. I couldn’t add extensions of beauty to my soul. The beauty within me was only revealed when I realized God did indeed make me wonderful inside and out.
His works, indeed were wonderful as he painted me into existence. So why paint over what he called good with my insecurities? Why let every negative thing that ever happened to me, send me to my room to grab a mask to wear out in the world. Why can’t I love the real me, even if people won’t love the real me? Why can’t I even begin to like the real me, like God LOVES the real me?
It’s because of the mask, and what the masks attracts. But those who want the mask and don’t want you, aren’t for you.
Those who want the mask and don’t want you, don’t even like you.
They wouldn’t even acknowledge you without the mask.
I dare you!
I double dare you, to go out into the world, confident in who God says you are, and unapologetic about it. Watch the attacks flow in, watch the friends drop, watch the boyfriends (or girlfriends) run. Watch!
Because when you take off your masks, the curiosity begins to arise in you where you want for others to take of their masks too, and they’re not ready for that.
When I proudly wore my masks, with my other mask wearing friends, I was told by one of them I needed the makeup and to look like the random girls on social media.
Girllllllll bye! ✌🏾
But, I didn’t say “girl bye” until I took off the mask. And now, we’re not friends anymore, she eventually didn’t like that I liked the real me. The me that I was destined to be by God since the beginning.
Take off the mask!
I’m not saying take off your makeup.
I’m not saying take off hair products.
I’m not saying take out the hair weave. I’m not saying stop dressing fabulously.I’m not saying stop getting nice things.
I’m saying take off the mask.
And, be revealed queen.