I Wish I Liked My Skin

The womanist in me tries not to care.

Photo by Lucija Ros on Unsplash

I got a pimple last week — a bad, deep one — and I obsessed over it. Just the sensation of it under my skin made me sad and angry and just drove me crazy. It was enough for me to roll out of bed in the middle of the night and try to fix it.

Honestly, it was surprising and disconcerting how quickly the feelings and insecurities of my…