Social Media Anxiety and Insecurities
I hate this pic. Why do I have to post it. I don’t like the way I look. This dress is nice but I look way too skinny. I wasn’t “blessed” with “feminine” curves. It’s crazy how femininity is placed in a bottle… preferably a coke bottle shape. If you’re not “thick” then you don’t exist… Isn’t that the epitome of beauty in the black community… the bigger the booty the more you are closer to being every man’s dream. You’re envied by women and praised by men. Here it is … I have No shape… My hips are non-existent.
I am stepping out of the box and rocking a dress that is a little edgy…Supposedly I was “blessed” with breasts… But my strapless bra has left me hanging… where was the support you promised. My breasts look way too big and I lack the support that I need and it’s visible. Why did I have to spend so much money on this Wacoal for nothing. #waste I won’t do low cut dresses any more. I’ll bury that dream… strapless bra’s don’t work for me.
My makeup is half way decent, my lips are poppin’ but the bags under my eyes are showing. I’m way too young to be looking this old. The concealer can no longer hide the truth. What’s happening to me. They are carrying the weight of the world.
I dislike my smile. Braces will one day be my bestie. My gift is to speak even through what seems like I should be silent.
I am not my hair- India Irie
Relaxed or natural that is the question. I can’t pick a struggle. I don’t know what to do with my hair. The extensions with a little leave out. I think to myself…Why perm hair that rarely is shown. I don’t have Malaysian money. I settle for basic synthetic or human hair that’s equivalent to trash. I can’t keep up with the trends.
I Woke up Like this… Flawless- Beyonce
My insecurities scream at me daily… It gets so loud that sleep is my solace. Maybe then the voices will stop. Unfortunately, They haunt me in my dreams.
Post or not to post… that is the question.
Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder… I wish I saw what others saw. When I look in the mirror all I see is shattered glass. Various pieces of brokenness.
When your girl takes a gorgeous pics of me and constantly ask me to post my pics on social media. However I overthink it… and they never see the light of day.