You Cute Or Whatever, But…

Surely there is more to you than your body? And I am not mad at your seemingly high self esteem but… Um, I mean, when was the last time you invested in nurturing your self worth?

Do you ever hear that you are worthy? That your worthiness is not tied to your looks? Your stackedness? Because that part tends to dry up along the way. The body is like a peach: firm yet juicy for a little while before giving way to plump ripeness. Then, whomp! Shrivelled up and dead wrinkly dryness. Or worse, eaten down to nothing in the savagery that is the tear

And please don’t think I’m hating. I, too, have marvelled at the wonder of my firm flesh displayed like farm fresh produce in the shortest of shirts, curves hugged so tight that you couldn’t tell if my dress was really just painted skin. Even now, ripe as I am, I find immense pleasure in the bruised stretch of my body. I marvel at what is my succulence, revel in how pleasingly plump I have become. And yet…

There is so much more to who I am–to who you are. And I just wonder if anybody has ever told you this. That you are worthy.

You are worthy.

You are worthy in a way that likes, shares, clicks, comments, dms, and late night texts can never demonstrate. You are worthy in ways that hey little mamas and that ass thos and baby girl listens and do you got a mans can not expose. You are worthy in a place so high above the selfies you angle and the arrogance you hid behind and the petty little jabs you take at those not as ripe and juicy as you that the only place you can find it is up way passed the noise, passed the fallen and low hanging quick picks you’ve been told are the only measure of your perfection.

Listen. Listen. I’m no high priestess of hotep, no prophet of respectability politics, no religious fanatic funneling you into eternal flames. I just wonder if you’ve ever taken a dive past your own fleshy goodness into the pit that is you? Because even though the world pricetags you based on your fruit, your real value lies in your seed–the center of the hard pit of brashness that you hide yourself inside. Pry it open for yourself. Plant yourself. Water yourself. And instead of being enamored of the peach, grow into the tree you were meant to be.

You are worthy of being more than a quick snack. You are worthy of feeding the world.


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