"Being around so many beautiful black girls and women who love dance really helped me feel super proud to be me."

Jade Jackson was just three years old when she stood on the toilet and declared, “I hate my hair!,” while frantically trying to pull it straight. It was the first sign that she and her hair were going to have issues.

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When I was in middle school, a boy I had a crush on said that I was cute, but that he didn’t date girls with “my kind of hair.” I was not sure what was wrong with “my kind of hair,” but presumably he meant the short kind. Although I never really understood what he meant, that comment really stuck with me, because I’ve hated my hair for as long as I can remember. I’ve always wished it were just a little bit longer. A tad bit fuller. And much, much thicker.

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If you’re not too familiar with the term #InstaBaddie, aka Instagram Baddie, bka plain ‘ol baddie—let me spare you the Google search.

An Urban dictionary definition of “Instagram baddie” will yield, “another word for an Instagram whore” while the phrase “shes a baddie” suggests, “a girl [who’s] got good qualities, and is everything a guy wants.”

Since when can you tell a girl has “good qualities” from a picture, though?

Nonetheless, you could ask 100 other people and probably get 100 different definitions, but most people would probably agree: she’s gorgeous, has amazing brows, and gets a ton of likes.  While baddie is by no means a new term, YouTube tutorials that teach you how to look like one are definitely on the rise. I found at least 100 makeup tutorials for this very subject before I got tired of counting.

You might be thinking, “Well, what’s the difference between this and any other makeup tutorial?” I asked myself the same question, wondering how I could articulate my discomfort with the subject matter.

The answer is simple: other tutorials, though often inspired by celebrity makeup looks, aren’t usually geared towards teaching women and girls how to appeal to a type. An #InstaBaddie in truth is nothing more than an ideal that has been created through this social medium. And as ideals go, they aren’t really real. So what does a woman or a girl really gain from attempting to attain this ideal?
Furthermore, what effect do these videos have on viewers? Here are a few comments I pulled from one particular tutorial:

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There is something about a melanin infused woman who walks into a room and has the nerve to have hair that defies gravity. This woman can’t become a wallflower even if she tried. This is #BlackGirlMagic in action.

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In recent years natural hair moms have begun to unapologetically enter PTA meetings, playgrounds, and mommy groups rocking their curls. Many of them made a conscious decision to “go natural” as a way to teach their daughters self-acceptance and also help them learn how to navigate their kinky coils.

One significant off spring of their choice to “go natural” is for the first time in decades many little Black girls have grown up knowing that wearing their hair natural is an option. They have gone to weddings where the bride strolls down the aisle with kinky curls, had teachers who proudly rock a fierce twist out, and seen their moms do the big chop. Undoubtedly, in the last decade little girls have been exposed to a higher percentage of diverse hair images than in years prior.

There's about three feet of snow on the ground and I see a woman who looks like she needs help. But I don't help her. Because awhile back I'd decided that this woman was mean and my assumptions wouldn't let me move.

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When you want what everyone else wants, without discretion, you do what you see everyone else doing. When you believe that what you see, what's presented to you, is all there is, you try to choose a mold to squeeze into, even if it hurts, even if you can't breathe, even if you have to cut off parts of yourself to make it fit.

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I was old enough to feel like a woman but young enough to be shy about it. I used to sit in my bedroom in front of the mirror pretending someone was watching me. Usually that someone was my crush of the moment or someone I wished would notice me.

Hola Chicas,

Yesterday someone wrote in asking me how I created success, found purpose and love, and things of that nature.  Specifically, she wanted advice on getting a man. A good one.  THE ONE.  Now, usually, I don't do this but uh, Imma go 'head and share the secret to finding love... 

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Do you know how it feels to want something so badly that you dread it?

I'm talking about pushing away the very thing you want most, the very life you want most. Because deep down you don't believe that you can have it. Because you've romanticized it and your expectations have gotten so high that you are afraid you'll mess it up. And what will you have to give up to get it? There's so much uncertainty, so many questions. It seems unattainable so you pretend you don't want it. You talk yourself out of it. You see it coming and you run. All of this is disguised in a common escape:

'I'm not ready.'

Sometimes what we say is 'I'm not ready' but what we whisper is 'I'm not worthy.'

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Appreciate every single season of your life.  Whether the season is hard and you wish it would hurry up and pass, or the season is amazing and you're terrified that it will end.  No matter what it is, give yourself to it, and trust that you are experiencing exactly what you need when you need it. 

My youngest daughter always says, "Mommy move your hair so I can kiss your spots." What has been a source of insecurity for me is something my daughter loves unconditionally.


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"Creation is an extension of thought. Think lack and get lack. Think abundance and you get abundance."  - Marianne Williamson

I can't get enough positive affirmation.  Can't get enough truth and stripped down honesty and inspiration. I'm never satisfied.  Always looking for growth and life lessons and proof of grace.  Because I have always been drawn to sad things and melancholy, anything emotional and heart-wrenching, so I instinctively seek to balance that out.  With meaning and enlightening ideas.  Faith and creativity.  This is the only way I know how to live and thrive.  I'm not always happy, but I'm always hopeful.

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In which I take my own advice and just start writing.

Because I know that I desperately need to shut my mind up and open up to my soul.  Here, in this space, I need to reconnect.  Getting back to the days when I would write blog posts that weren't planned, that weren't centered around a product launch or a series, but were necessary simply because the words needed to come out and be felt.  Sometimes my words are little warriors, and I send them out to look for signs of life when I'm fighting a battle.  Is anyone else out there fighting this battle, too?  Let's fight together.  This is what they whisper, in between the lines.
 
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I had a phone interview recently.  I felt laid back at first like I was having a chat with a friend.  Then throughout the call I got more and more worked up.  My thoughts went into overdrive and nerves started taking over.  I couldn't say anything without stuttering and repeating myself.

I was frazzled.  I struggled to provide straightforward, concise answers to questions that should have come easily to me, having answered them dozens of times before.    Long gone was the calm, be-your-self-ness that I felt when the interview started.  When the call ended, I hung up feeling uneasy.

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When you are afraid of something and you think about this fear a lot, you based your actions around it and you give it energy.

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I was an intense kid and I learned early on that it wasn't a 'cool' thing to be so I did my best to conceal it.

But everything stayed with me. I felt that I carried not only my own problems around with me but those of everyone else. The homeless man on the street. The elderly woman looking sad and confused in the grocery store. The family that lost everything in a house fire. I thought I was weird for obsessing over all these sad things all the time. But I needed to take my time with them and let the emotions flow through me. Same with joy. Just as I had a deep capacity to explore sadness and pain, I felt intense joy at what others considered to be small things.

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