Personal Narrative: My Hair Isn T Perfect

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Fat Ugly Worthless Bad bodied Gorilla mama What is going in the world today? It’s like we take two steps forwards just to take two steps back. It’s ridiculous! Why couldn’t I be treated as an equal? Why does the color of my skin matter? Why does the measurements of my hips, and thighs matter? Why are people disgusted by the sight of a healthy growing girl? I sighed at the pettiness of humanity. I don’t know why I even try to comprehend why people treat me the way I do. I’m no run way model, I aint so size two, I was never the shade of Beyoncé. I was just me. A dark chocolate, pear shaped girl with a head full of nappy kinky curls. I wasn’t perfect. No one is. Why can’t people accept that? I have been constantly ridiculed because of my appearance …show more content…

I glared hatefully at my chubby round cheeks, my chestnut brown eyes filled with hatred, my plump pink lips pulled back into a sneer. I hated this! Was I not worthy of being beautiful?! Why can people see my glory?! What’s wrong with me? “When will it be my turn?’ I asked my reflection softly, brushing the stray hairs out of my face. My hair stood messily on the top of my head. I fingered a strand and twirled it with my fingers. It was dark brown and course styled in a massive afro. They hated it. ‘She need a hot comb for that shit or a perm …show more content…

I sighed casting my eyes downward assessing my figure. Like I said I was no Beyoncé. I wasn’t one of those curvy girls you’d see on Tumblr or Pinterest. I was pear shaped with a protruding belly over my waistline. My chest was a bit small, maybe a B cup, compared to the other parts of me it was about the smallest. ‘Maybe you should pad you bra Minerva. You know it might even out your stomach. Make you look thinner’ she remembering one of my older sisters, Charmaine offer. I could still remember the mocking tone in her voice as she patted my head as if I were a dog while I cried to myself while I threw

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