the price of being black in suburbia
Being a black girl is such a unique experience. Nothing can ever recreate it.
I got my nails done today, and after they were finished, my confidence boosted by like 30%. I felt like I was worth something. When I was younger, I would’ve never felt that way.
I used to hate my blackness. I hated it so much. I was the only black kid in my school. I was ostracized.
The media I consumed was anti-black too: Keem, Leafy, Pink Guy, iDubbbz. Not to be that one friend thats too woke but it’s true. I still think they’re funny, but growing up in that era as a black person, it’s no wonder so many of us ended up becoming self-hating.
But the way to fix that is to embrace yourself. Don’t worry about being too loud, too expressive, too “ghetto.” They call you that because they’re afraid. They’re scared of seeing black women – black people – being happy.
My coworker’s going to do my hair soon. I’m getting jellyfish braids. If I were still in middle school, I would’ve been appalled at the idea of getting my hair braided. I was always teased for it.
But when I went out today, a lot of people came up to me and said they loved my outfit. At work, people tell me all the time that my hair is beautiful. I never thought I’d get compliments like that in my wildest dreams — for so long, I was held back by the white beauty standard.
When I was in the car with my aunt, grandma, mom, and brother, we were all talking about rock music. We’re from different generations, but we all love it. It’s in our family.
People claim that rock music is a “white” genre, that being alternative is “white.” But that couldn’t be further from the truth.
I think black people are sometimes afraid to express themselves the way white people can, because society despises seeing the culture they wanted to destroy, thrive. They want to suppress us. I’m not letting them do that anymore.
Anyway, I want to play Postal. Bye.
- 🧛