Embracing My "Juicy-ness": A Plus-size Story

“...I am guilty of not defining my beauty in the past. I was not always the confident woman you see today. I know how it feels to look in the mirror and not like what is looking back. I believed I was not pretty because of my skin tone and my size. I thought I was too dark and too heavy to be considered attractive to anyone. I compared myself to other females, when I should not have been comparing myself to anyone. I am who I am. I am fearfully and wonderfully made...”

— Diary of a Stylish Buxom Beauty

At some point during my adolescent years I went to bed looking like a clothed ironing board, then awoke to a "C" cup and thunder thighs. To say I was uncomfortable in my skin back then would be an extreme understatement.  I felt awkward and unattractive for the majority of my teenage years. I spent most of my school days in unnecessary layers of jackets and coats to hide my body. I even recall avoiding my high school cafeteria lunch-line because I didn't want to be seen. Who would have thought that the characteristics I loathed about myself would become the very things I celebrate, and who would have thought this once ashamed girl would blossom into a confident self-proclaimed peacock?

The first time I walked into Lane Bryant to purchase clothing I was 14 years old. I can recall how embarrassed I felt having to shop in that store. I wanted to get clothes from the junior's department of Hect's "like all the other girls my age", but I couldn't fit those clothes. Actually, I couldn't fit those clothes at any point during my adolescent years.  In my mind, nothing seemed to fit right at Lane Bryant and I looked awful. I tugged and tucked trying to find some level of comfort in the clothing. A few years later, I recall shopping for a dress for my senior prom. I distinctly remember being in the dressing room at Gantos looking at myself in the mirror when a petite girl stepped out in a strapless black dress. She looked so cute and I was so envious. Feelings of inadequacy and unattractiveness overcame me and it saddened me. My mother noticed my countenance and she comforted me like only a mother can. Even though my mother purchased the cutest clothes for me and shoes to match - I continued to feel "unpretty."

It wasn't until a particular person noticed me in high school that made me realize it wasn't abnormal for someone to be attracted to me. That was the moment of epiphany for me. I began to see me - and I started thinking about myself differently. Don't get me wrong, there were others who saw the beauty that was hidden from me. But, there was something about that person that helped me overcome my struggle. My distorted thoughts concerning me stemmed from my inability to see myself as an individual. I didn't know how to look at me without comparing myself to someone else. I was so blinded by my unwarranted insecurities regarding my appearance that I couldn't grasp the idea of anyone being attracted to me.

“A man is literally what he thinks, his character being the complete sum of all his thoughts.”

— Allen, James - As A Man Thinketh. 1903

Once I realized the truth in the above quote, I was able to see the importance of what we say to ourselves. I've matured to see that it is senseless to seek the approval of others, or rely on the affirmation of others. I needed to get to the place of self-acceptance. Yes, the admiration of others is nice - but, self-admiration is much better. I know there are people in this world who don't believe fuller-figured women are attractive, and that is fine because their opinion of me doesn't matter - mine does.

Today I like what looks back at me in the mirror. Today I embrace my dark skin, my full lips, my full cheeks, my voluptuous breasts, the curves of my hips, the roundness of my full derriere, and the curves of my bowlegs - they make up the physical me and I love every part.  But, the most attractive attribute I possess is my confidence.

I am no longer that sheepish 14 year old girl who wanted to blend in and be unseen, and I'm telling my story to help someone else get to the place of self-acceptance. Being different is what makes us special.

The Divided State of America

Whether your stance is “Black Lives Matter”, “Blue Lives Matter”, or “All Lives Matter”, we all need to do better. I read numerous articles and postings on social media that address the recent events in the United States, and I’ve come to the conclusion that there is work to be done by all of us. The onus doesn’t fall on one particular group, we are all responsible for the state of our country.

I recently read a post on social media that I partially agreed with – the author of the post stated that our police do not need to be retrained, the public does. How can you say the police do not need to be retrained when a citizen is thrown to the ground during a traffic stop and the video surveillance is hidden for a year? How can you claim it is not the police, but the citizens of these United States that need to be trained when a therapist who was trying to comfort a patient is shot and the officer could not explain why he pulled the trigger? How can you say the police do not need to be retrained when numerous Black males have been killed at the hands of the officers who swore to protect and serve?

I consider myself to be a law abiding citizen. Granted, I have exceeded the speed limit from time to time, but that is the extent of the crimes I have committed. But recent events make me leery of the image of Five-O in my rearview mirror. I’ll be honest, if my taillight is out unbeknownst to me and there are flashing lights behind me, do I really want to pull over? If I don’t respond fast enough for the officer will I become another statistic?

Don’t get me wrong, I am sure being a police officer is not an easy job. I know it must be difficult dealing with horrific crime scenes and difficult people. But how much vetting is done before these individuals are given a badge and a gun? Is enough being done to ensure the right people are doing the job? By no means am I saying all cops are bad – they aren’t, I’m related to one. However, something is obviously broken and it needs to be fixed. Starting with the belief that we, the public, are the enemy and must be stopped.

And here comes the portion of the post I agree with – we need to train our children. Children are very impressionable and they mimic the things they see and hear. We should be more mindful of what we are teaching our youth through the things we say and the lifestyle we display before them. Children should be taught to respect and obey authority. As I stated before, children follow by example - so, adults should obey and respect authority as well. Having said that, those in positions of authority should behave in a manner that is worthy of respect and the obedience of the public. What would be the purpose of compliance to an officer who has no respect or regard for the life of the person he or she is confronting? The answer to the problem is not one sided. Much like marriage, all parties must be willing to do their part in order for it to work.

I am not saying the loss of lives were justified - they were not. However, I believe the outcome of the incidents would have been much different had more extensive vetting been done on police officers in conjunction with better training. Aren't there better ways to defuse a hostile situation besides deadly force? Or is a better question - are police officers taught other ways to defuse a hostile situation besides using deadly force? Once a life is taken it cannot be undone. There are no "do-overs." My immediate thought when I see a Black male being detained by a police officer should not be, "Lord, please let that Black man walk away with his life."  Truth be told, those exact words came out of my mouth on my way back from Philadelphia over the weekend.

Is it possible for all of us to earnestly consider what we can do to make things better, regardless of our differences? Or am I too much of an optimist?

Why I Don't Call Other Black People The "N" Word

During my daily commute to and from work I like to listen to my iTunes when I am not chatting away with my mother on the phone. If you were to take a peek at my playlist you will find an array of artists and musical genre, from Hezekiah Walker to Mary J. Blige, the Band Extreme to the Doobie Brothers all the way to the Notorious B.I.G. and then all the way back to James Cleveland. I admit that my collection of music consists mostly of songs created before 2006.

Recently, as I was traveling to work one of my favorite “get hype” throwback songs came on, Lean Back by Terror Squad. For some reason on this particular day I tuned in to how many times the word nigga is mentioned and it made me think – should we really be using this word?

Honestly speaking, I have mixed views on the use of the word. I acknowledge that I’ve used the word to be funny, show endearment, and regrettably, in a derogatory manner.

I was taught, by my parents, that a nigga is an ignorant person – male or female, and of any race. And I accept that to be its definition. Even though I don’t believe the word is interchangeably related to all Black people, I know I would not like someone calling me that word in a negative way. Furthermore, I know if a non-Black individual called me that word, that person would be introduced to another side of Towanda. Which brings me to this question – if I am so against being called that word, should I be using it to describe someone else? Or even entertain those who do?

How can we, as Black people, take issue with other races using the word when we are using it ourselves? Isn’t that a double-standard? I realize the word was originally used to demean our ancestors – and if we are completely honest with ourselves, it is still being used to degrade our race. We have given the word a positive spin that is received as a form of bonding and sentiment however, I still wonder if we should be using the word in any connotation.

And here is why – if we argue or complain about the use of the word by a non-Black person, then turn around and use it ourselves, aren’t we talking out of both sides of our mouths? If it is wrong for one particular group to use it, shouldn’t it be wrong for every group? In addition to that, I am concerned about how the use of the word affects our older generations.

It occurred to me that I have never heard my father use the word. And after pondering over it, I came to the conclusion as to why. My fraternal grandfather was a sharecropper, and my fraternal grandmother picked cotton and chopped down tobacco in the south. My father talks about the negative experiences and encounters he had with racists growing up. I am sure he heard the word more times than he would care to remember – and I know it was not in a loving and endearing manner. Considering what my fraternal grandparents did to provide for my father and his three siblings, I am confident they were called niggas.

Further north, my maternal grandmother worked as a maid for White homeowners. My mother has told me stories of her childhood when she would visit downtown Baltimore where she saw signs that read “Whites Only.”  My mother also told me how her mother had to say “yes ma’am” and “yes sir” to the White children that occupied the homes she cleaned. Do I really want to think about the probability of my grandmother being called that word in a derogatory way? No, I don’t.

The fact that my family members – from generations not too far from mine, were subjected to the disrespect and dehumanizing tone the word originally carried hurts me, and that makes me view the use of the word differently.

As I stated before, our culture has created a “positive” way of using the word but, for this Black woman – I am choosing to erase it from my vocabulary.

If I Could Turn Back Time

In about 30 days I will be celebrating my 40th birthday. As I think about how momentous this event is, I can’t help but ponder over the things I’ve experienced in my life so far and contemplate what I would have done differently had I known then what I know now. There have been some wonderful events as well as some difficult ones that I never imagined I’d encounter, and even more so – overcome.

There are numerous things I would tell my younger self if I had the opportunity. Starting with appreciating being a child – not to be in such a hurry to “grow up.” I would tell young Towanda to appreciate the carefree days of childhood. Now, with just a few days left in my 30s, I realize the importance of appreciating the present. I recall wanting to move on to the next expected chapter in my life instead of relishing the here and now. I spent a lot of energy hoping for companionship, but I failed to make the best of the relationship with the person who was there all the time - me.

I would tell myself to accept and love me unconditionally. I would encourage the young me to recognize my worth and not settle for anything that compromises my character or diminishes my dreams.  I can recall wishing I was someone else, to the point that I imagined myself to be completely different from who I was. Now that I’m older I realize how wrong I was. I would tell Towanda not to compare herself with others. Mainly because there was nothing wrong with me. God made me, and as I’ve stated on various occasions, He does not make mistakes. Furthermore, what is truly gained through comparing yourself with others?

I’d like to tell the young me to embrace our uniqueness and know that the opinions of others doesn’t matter – what I think matters. When I was younger I couldn’t­­­­­ see my beauty that is apparent to me now. I doubted my abilities and I literally hid myself from the world. I didn’t want to be seen because of fear of ridicule and unacceptance. In retrospect, the feeling of inadequacy stemmed from the insecurities of others that I allowed to pollute my self-esteem.

I’ve learned that the statement, Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, is much more than a cliché – it is the truth. There is no epitome of beauty, nor is there a need to conform to the standards of society. My dark skin and thick thighs may be considered unattractive by some, however those same characteristics are what ten others find attractive about me. Furthermore, if someone truly loves me they will accept me as I am – especially when that someone is me.

A Priceless Gift

I am truly grateful and excited about my upcoming milestone birthday. I can recall the excitement I had as a child during the weeks before my birthday. All I could think about was that day and the laundry list of items I wanted as gifts for the occasion. As I've gotten older, my list has changed.  I've noticed that as the years of my life increase, my desire for tangible things has decreased. Now I desire peace and wellness for myself, my family, friends, and even my foes.

...When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child:  but, when I became a man, I put away childish things...

I Corinthians 13:11 KJV

I have come to realize that one of the most precious possessions in life is not obtained by monetary means, they are actually non-tangible and reside in our mental and spiritual being. The peace that surpasses all understanding is one of those precious possessions. A few years ago I was in a place in my life where I did not have peace. In all honesty, I was completely miserable. I was in an unhealthy relationship that robbed me of it - to be perfectly honest, I wasn't robbed of my peace, I forfeited it. I ignored the warning signs of a pernicious relationship.  I lost myself and the opportunity to mold two little lives that were in my hands. It was in this state of misery that I learned how precious peace truly is.

Having peace of mind is an important aspect of loving oneself. How often do we allow the cares of every day affect our level of peace and our overall being? By no means am I implying that we are wrong for being affected by life - it comes with the package. However, it is imperative that we obtain and maintain peace. But, more importantly - we must ensure we are not involved with individuals that threaten it.

I was a little apprehensive about discussing the subject of unhealthy relationships, but I changed my mind because I believe it will be beneficial for readers as well as myself. I want to encourage all people to be mindful of the company they keep and what we accept into our lives.  Toxic relationships can be detrimental to our mental and spiritual health.

Healthy relationships make us better people. They celebrate our successes and encourage us in our failures. They don't belittle us or tear us down, nor do they make us feel inferior or unworthy.

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but it rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. ”

— 1 Corinthians 13:4-7 NIV

Having peace doesn't necessarily mean everything is perfect, but it enables you to be unbothered by the troubles life presents.

I am extremely appreciative of the peace I have now. It is true that everything in my life is not where I'd like it to be, but I am working on it. Furthermore, I am not where I was. I remember a time when I didn't recognize my own reflection - I can see me now, and it is a beautiful thing.

Peace be unto you - and me.