And the Greatest of These…

is this chick.  That’s right, I said it.  I’m the baddest. 

Last week on Facebook, I heard that I don’t love myself because I had a weave.  And I sometimes wear eyelashes, so that was another strike against me.  There was a list of why you don’t love yourself, but suffice it to say that if anything attached to your body is not God given, you don’t love yourself.  In fact, I just read an article this morning in which the author, who had never met Fantasia Barrino – or probably anybody who’s ever met her or seen her in concert – has determined that because she is pregnant by a questionable suspect, she doesn’t love herself.  

What?  Don’t get pissed at me, I’m just telling you what has been handed down by the most pure and natural of us.  It ain’t my fault you in self hate! See, according to some folk, I really hate myself.  Let’s check, shall we?  I’ve had a weave (see exhibit A above), fake nails, false eyelashes, there was that one time I considered liposuction….. Oh!  I once had some brown contacts, but that might not count because I never wore them.  Wait, I think the rule is even if I bought them, I still hate myself. Dang.  And, let’s not forget what sealed the deal…I had a baby by a man I wasn’t married to.  Not only does Aidan mean I hate myself, but also that I have low self-esteem.  Woe.is.mothafreakin.me.  Should I just die right now?

*Sigh*  Whatever shall I do?  I mean, I’m such a failure to the other little black girls whom it is my solemn duty to teach to love themselves.  Whatever are they going to do when they look at me and see that I have two degrees on my wall and one of them says “doctorate”, that I follow my dreams and urge them to, that I like to look good (and most often do), that I have a husband and a family that I love and support, that I give back to my community, that I’m talented, that I’m smart, that I’m funny, that I have a great job, that I’m loving and giving, that I’ve survived a lot of things on my own….that I’m THAT chick?

Oh yeah, because I have absolutely no problem letting you know that I wear what I want, buy what I want, look how I want, and I’m still THAT chick.  and if there is one thing I love, love, love?  It’s some Pserendipity.  So, while you’re so busy judging how much I should hate myself?  You might wanna catch the hell up. 

Oh, and one other thing I forgot to say:

What?  I was just showing you that my nails are real.