Caged Birds Still Sing

In today's society, where women are looked at as being considered beautiful by way of their physical characteristics, it's rare you see a woman get acknowledged by her beautiful essence in contrast to her mental. Most women who have blogs are considered "gossip" celebrities or contributing to the societal standards of the world we are forced to live in.

As a woman, I used to be infiltrated by popular stigma being rehearsed daily in my thought processes by images and distortion I seen play out on television. I used to want to be that girl that every man desired to have on their arm, the one every man would post as their #WCW every Wednesday. I felt less than or not pretty enough when I wasn't even considered to be a contestant on social reality. My self esteem was low. Have you ever felt like you were nothing unless everybody thought you were something? I had to have a man and, THE MAN, that every woman wanted. Coming from a sexually abused background and dysfunctional relationship standards, I often contemplated suicide and attempted to at least try several times. I was killing myself trying to get everyone to love me and see me. ME! This tall, lanky, buck-teeth girl who was a late bloomer with no shape or definition to her hips. I felt ugly, I felt unwanted, I felt less than. I was not popular, I was bullied because of my weight and the fact that I was soft spoken or shy. All the girls I hung out with were having sex and it showed from their bodies physiques. I didn't lose my virginity until I was 17. The only person that found me attractive was my molester who, by that time, had damaged my self worth. Being it was a girl, I often struggled with sexuality issues and whether I was suppose to be with the opposite sex or same sex. A shy brown skinned girl afraid of her own voice, so she silenced herself and allowed herself to be 'controlled.' The funny thing is, abuse always has a way of rearing its ugly head in the future. Promiscuity and settling for the wrong men kept me in the dark, wanting to escape, but never having the courage. It didn't help that my father was not there for me emotionally or mentally. We have a very tumultuous relationship that's almost non existent.

So you see, blogging for me is like my daily journal to the world. I write because I have something to say and not because I'm updating you on someone else's life. I write for my sisters who have been called "hoes, thots, sluts, crazy, delusional, and hopeless romantics." I write for my sisters who are struggling to be great mothers while raising kids on supplemental income. I write for my sisters who have relationships based on monetary gain. I write for my side chicks, because I used to be one. I write for my sisters who damn near prostituted their soul just to get someone to love them. I write for my sisters who feel like they have no voice. I write for those who kids will never get a chance to know their father and have to be raised by a single mother who don't know what it takes to raise a man, being a WOMB-man. I write for my sisters who have experienced loss and still grieve for their first love. When giving the opportunity to write for iWorshipHer, I was emotionally ecstatic because I knew the intent behind it and I knew it would serve a self-love purpose. It's a reminder for women to be WOMEN and not apologize for it. It reminds us to be classy, sexy, ratchet, and unapologetic. It is meant to break barriers of standard beauty and to love every inch of our curves and embrace our stretch marks and cellulite. It creates a sisterhood where ALL my sisters can dwell and find peace, knowledge, comfort, and friendship by connecting with spirits all around the world. In closing, I want to thank Miss Buttafly for having the courage to unite our sisterhood and create a place where we can be ourselves. I will make you proud. ️

#women #beautystandards #relationships #healing #writing #freedom #poetry