Oh, these hips of mine.

In this moment, I remember stylist Kev Couture dressing me in Leontine Abdullah, Artelia Phelps on the face-beat and being too self-conscious to actually leave my hotel room wearing this. Oh these hips of mine have always been the thorn on my side, literally and figuratively. I tend to hide my body, after being abused as a young girl, I felt that I was supposed to cover up. My hips have always been my battle, the unwanted attention and the scoff of the modeling industry and its faulty Eurocentric standard of beauty. I shared this with a male friend, and he spouted “hips are the difference between boys and girls”. I guess that was his way of making me feel better by dissing other women who may have different attributes than me, like a 24 inch waist. My point is that 1. You just gotta rock with what you got and love it, it’s infectious. 2. We are all made differently and all have our own attributes which make us special. We don’t have to shit on others to make ourselves feel better, that reeks of insecurity. And, THREE and most importantly… we can be fine, beautiful, gorgeous and whatever else and we don’t owe anyone else an apology for it, ESPECIALLY those nasty moahfuggahs who strive to abuse it! It is never your fault that someone else is sick and broken, if you’ve been abused, get the help that you need. You owe that to your pretty self. You hear that @funnyaida this one is for you too!

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