Self love

When I was young, no one ever told me that loving yourself would be this difficult. Back then, thinking highly about myself was so easy. I was too young to understand that “out there” awaited a beyond that was destitute of an understanding of an intersection of beauty that was my home. 

Now that I am older, I recognize the miracle of self love that breaks through the dense fog that attempts to suffocate my body. 

They say: 

I’m too black to be woman

Too woman to be black

Too fat to be beautiful

Too beautiful to be fat

Too smart to be appeoachable

Too approachable to be smart

Too much, not enough, unapproachable, unwanted, unloved  

But I love all of me:

Every color

Every curve

Every word  

Uninhibited and unapologetically  

I recognize the clarity of self love that evaporates the dense fog that attempts to suffocate my body. 

No, no one ever told me that loving yourself would be this difficult. it may have been easier, but out here I am learning to dwell at the intersection of beauty that is my home.