Have you ever watched a man get ready? The entire process of them to prepare before stepping out into the world takes between 30-40 minutes tops! From their shower, brushing of teeth, choosing of clothing, coordination of said clothing and any personal grooming they deem necessary, it’s like watching a weird silent movie without any subtitles. Then there is us. Us women who take what seems to be an eternity to get ready for anything that requires us to step outside of the confines of our front door. I’ve often wondered why I take so long to get ready for work in the morning. Unfortunately, I wasn’t blessed with the “Jump out of bed” genes that allows me to throw some water on my parts and gel in my hair and hit the door within a quick 15! Nope. Because, as an African American woman, I require more attention to my naturally coiled hair and moisture on my skin so I don’t appear ashy in the morning’s light. Let’s not even mention if you’re adding makeup to the routine! Unless you’re a skilled makeup artist, tacking on extra time to make sure our faces don’t resemble Krusty the Clown is most certainly a must.
So, I began thinking to myself – “Why do we do this? Why do we spend the better part of our mornings or whenever we go someplace forcing ourselves to look flawless?” The answer can be convoluted. Some might say it’s due to the unreasonable expectations society places on the way women should look while typically allowing men to slide by or that some women are self-conscience about their appearance without the aid of makeup or shapewear. Whatever the reason, I think it’s high time it’s confronted. When was the last time you stood in front of a full body mirror looked at yourself nude? Without makeup, wigs, weave, shapewear, false lashes? If recently, what did you see? Did you like the reflection staring back? Personally, I’m guilty of not always liking what glared back at me. For years my own insecurities forced me to spend countless hours contouring my face and sucking in my gut as I put on a pair of jeans that I’m sure cut off my oxygen supply. I was convinced that without shapewear that didn’t rearrange my internal organs and a “beat face” that I wasn’t attractive. In my head, I was the Black Hunchback of Notre Dame.
However like many who’ve been enduring this global pandemic, the weeks of quarantine at home and having nowhere to go that required me to get dolled up, forced me to get real and candid about how I viewed myself. I had to begin the daunting task of deleting all of the negative messages that were downloaded into me about my body and how I treated it. Relearning how sacred and beautiful it was and that for each fat roll and stretch mark, I was indeed still beautiful. Holding my head up while looking at my face and taking stock into the shape of it, its natural hue and even acne scars was monumental. I felt like I was reawakened from a deep slumber of not truly seeing myself. I was WOKE honey! Getting up each morning, putting on yoga pants, a t-shirt with no bra and a bonnet with a head full of rollers underneath became my wardrobe and I had never felt so free. It was a freedom I didn’t even know I needed, but was grateful to have found it.
Hear me when I say, that putting in the extra time to look good and perhaps make yourself feel more confident isn’t a bad thing. Trust me, I still love stepping out the door looking like a whole snack! The only difference is now is I know I’m a whole meal just the way I am. My hope is that women begin to become more cognizant and realize that our confidence is already present. It’s existent when we speak our minds and go against the grain of what is typical. That extra time we spend perfecting our hair, let’s use it to meditate or write in a journal. We’ve all become accustomed to working hard on the exterior, but I challenge you to work on the interior. So, before you plug in that flat iron to straighten your hair, remind yourself “To Hell! I’m about to be au natural!”
