You're pretty...

...for a black girl.

Someone actually said that to me once.  It was many years ago, and while it stung a little then, if someone said that to me today, chances are great that I would punch said someone square in the mouth.

Who are you to judge what's pretty and why would the standards be different for different races?

Today, I've come to the conclusion that I don't care.  America, your standards of beauty are no longer important to me.  Fuck you.  I'm pretty whether it's to me, my boyfriend, some random construction worker, or you America, with your stuck up ideals and your fucked up morals.  I'm not just pretty, I AM BEAUTIFUL! 

My life is full.  Full of family, full of love, full of work (unfortunately), and full of school.  I am proud of who I am and who I will be.  I am me, dammit, and that's good enough.  There is no longer a single person out there that can tell me otherwise because, while I was lost for a while, I just found myself this morning while walking outside and you know what?  I LOVE ME!

I love all my 5 foot one inches.  I love all 128 of my muscular pounds.  I love my nappy-ass hair and my not-so-ghetto booty.  You won't see me on the cover of some magazine or parading down some runway, and you sure as hell won't see me starving myself because I think (or society has made me believe) that I'm fat. 

I will no longer obsess about stupid crap.  My hair is long enough and it grows more every day.  My boobs are the right size for my body.  That little bit of fat on my thighs or on my belly is no big deal, after all, I'm not 18 anymore.  It's okay to do things for myself and not feel guilty about it.  I am allowed to enjoy life!

I don't know what exactly brought this on, but whatever it was, I'm happy that it happened.  I honestly feel as though a huge weight was lifted off of me the moment I realized these things.  Now I can look around and see that I had everything I needed all along.  Now I can look around and not see that girl that has nicer hair or the girl that's thinner or taller or richer or anything-er.  They're all just regular people with regular problems, probably problems worse than mine.  I am rich in life and rich in love and I need nothing more.

Excuse me while I go live.