My Body Confronts Me


I remember a time when you used to unconditionally love me. After sunset while walking home, you’d turn into a thin silhouette, in a mini-skirt; butt almost out, barefoot, dancing and carefree. You were always teased because of me, but, you were a happy child and in your eyes, there was no difference between beautiful and ugly, thin and fat. The difference was who could play Hoshkop the best.

When you became a teenager, you started being cautious of the stretch marks that formed at the back of your legs. Aunts and cousins told you it was undesirable to walk around with them showing, so you covered me. The boobs blossomed faster than any of your friend’s, and you began to worry about what message this would be sending to older men, so you covered me more. “I don’t look like a virgin, I look like I’ve been around,” you worried.

“I don’t look innocent.”

When the hips and the ass made their way out, you were completely distraught and destroyed, having had friends who were thin, so you completely hated me, passionately.

You starved me to violently shrink my loudness. You’d say, “I’m so fat,” and you’d read all those celebrity magazines about how to lose weight. You hated holidays because then family members would gather all together and tell you that you were gaining weight, and that if you did not watch yourself, you’d be ruined. You did not know what “watching yourself” meant, so to ease the confusion, you’d eat another chocolate, watch Oprah Winfrey and just hate on how thin other girls were.


You have constantly asked me to shout out apologies for the way these thighs are built so you could fit in. You still look in the mirror and wish to substitute me for other bodies. Woman, you have even wanted to remove the fats on the arms and on the thighs, the only thing that saved me is that you could not afford it. You have been disgusted by the belly, you have been embarrassed by the ass and I started to know that this hate has nothing to do with me, it was something was deep inside you and I was the only thing you could physically bully.

This hair is flawless, thick and strong like every woman in your blood line who has come before you. Their strength rests in your hairline. This face, with these pimples sitting perfectly on it is the only face you have. And, it is completely beautiful. These breasts that sleep on your lower chest, almost reaching your tummy when you sit are all there is. They are sustanance to the whole damn universe. Your belly, shaped like your love is the perfect path to your dark vagina whose darkness splashes itself to your inner thighs. Your inner thighs, elbows and knees will always remind you of the melanin of your people.

I urge you to love me in my rises and falls because I have carried you for 25 years. You have never been hospitalised, ever. You have never been seriously ill. You have committed so many unnatural degrading things to me and I still bounced back for you.




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