The Moment of Truth

You tell her you never loved her.
You tell her you don't care for her.
You tell her she is the reason your dick can't get hard.
You tell her you hate her.
You make fun of all of her physical flaws including her surgical scars and stretch marks.
You make fun of the fact she is a survivor of abuse and call her a weak ass victim.
You laugh her for not having a mom and dad like you.
You make fun of her for being fat and having a gut.
As you are spewing this vile to her face, she continues to stand tall, stand proud and stand strong
Even though she wants to break down and cry…..
She accepts your words with no violence
She accepts knowing the truth of how the same man who once claimed to love her truly feel about her.
The sad reality, she walks everyday of her life, ashamed of her flaws.
Seeking to find love within herself to love herself as is.
But in that process, she found herself, in this moment with someone who knew her battles and made sure to go in for the kill.
There is no "I'm sorry" to heal the wounds of hearing a man who she thought was her "king" say to her she has no beauty, she has no worth, she is nothing and to even wish death on her.

Although she walked away, she now has to focus on healing and rebuilding herself and beg to God daily to never place another vile in her life or her next step will be suicide.

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Black beauty

I am sitting here looking at myself in the mirror and reminiscing how far I’ve come with “self-acceptance”. I remember a time when I couldn’t face myself in the mirror. I hated the ugly dark skinned black bitch who stood before me so much that on several occasions I would destroy my mirrors in hopes of destroying her. It didn’t help much having a mother who always told me “my blackness will never be beautiful”. She complained how I was too dark, my head was too big and how ugly I was. My mom would even go to the extremes to point out other little girls who she thought was beautiful and wished they were her daughter instead of me…(did I mention I’m adopted?) I read the book “the bluest eye”. By Toni Morrison and found myself relating to the little girl in the book. I always enjoyed writing and wrote a prayer to god asking him for blue eyes, light skin, dimples and curly hair and despised god for a long time for hating me so much he refused to answer my prayers. I didn’t have many blacks friends so I hoped that by hanging around other nationalities some of their characteristics would rub off on me. Needless to say it didn’t happen lol. I fought for so many years trying to accept my darkness, my big head and lips and it doesn’t help when the media especially black media and stars idolizes the beauty of light skinned women. I’ve even considered bleaching my skin. One morning I woke up with a “fuck it” attitude and decided every morning I would look at myself in mirror and tell myself “I am beautiful” and “being dark is not ugly”. I swear being me ain’t easy. But no matter what others think of me…”My Caribbean Black is BEAUTIFUL”