• Brandi Nikkale

confident black women >>>

the world seems to have an obsession with talented black women until they are also confident and happy.


as i watch people attack chloe bailey, ciara, meg thee stallion, serena williams, and their ex-friend from their hometown who has found her stride in life, i am shook but not shocked.


for years, we have seen the likeable humble black women find their confidence and stop searching for validation and as a result…they suddenly become less likeable.



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suddenly “something about her rubs me the wrong way” or “she’s trying too hard” or “nobody wants to see that all the time” or “who does she think she is”?


this dates all the way back to elementary school when the girl with a new outfit or hairstyle “thought she was all that” and therefore was the subject of ridicule and slander until she felt as low as possible at which point she was welcomed back into the fold of friendship.


we are all guilty of critiquing others. it’s human nature.


however, at what point did we become so bold and heartless that we PUBLICLY post and tag black women to tell them how much we don’t like them, their looks, their confidence, and their happiness?


why is this okay?


why is demeaning a black woman for a few likes an honor?


could you not have kept it in the group chat?


i am not asking for your response here. just asking you to think about it and do better.


we can all do better.


i am going to end this with a poem i am sure you’ve heard before but we can all stand to hear again.


Still I Rise

BY MAYA ANGELOU


You may write me down in history

With your bitter, twisted lies,

You may trod me in the very dirt

But still, like dust, I'll rise.


Does my sassiness upset you?

Why are you beset with gloom?

’Cause I walk like I've got oil wells

Pumping in my living room.


Just like moons and like suns,

With the certainty of tides,

Just like hopes springing high,

Still I'll rise.


Did you want to see me broken?

Bowed head and lowered eyes?

Shoulders falling down like teardrops,

Weakened by my soulful cries?


Does my haughtiness offend you?

Don't you take it awful hard

’Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines

Diggin’ in my own backyard.


You may shoot me with your words,

You may cut me with your eyes,

You may kill me with your hatefulness,

But still, like air, I’ll rise.


Does my sexiness upset you?

Does it come as a surprise

That I dance like I've got diamonds

At the meeting of my thighs?


Out of the huts of history’s shame

I rise


Up from a past that’s rooted in pain

I rise


I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,

Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.


Leaving behind nights of terror and fear

I rise


Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear

I rise


Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,

I am the dream and the hope of the slave.


I rise

I rise

I rise.

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