positive black stories

Women are wild gardens. We plant in ourselves a portion of all that we see. And so love, peace, justice, romanticism, and anarchy grow equally in the space between our ribs. We defy explanation and we write our own stories so no man can trim the wild plants that take root in us. Our foliage is poison to the timid, the complacent, and the conformists. Above all, we are fertile. Our land, our hearts, hold the sacred utterances of all those who live. The spirits seek us out exclusively to tell their stories, for they know we will do them justice. We are the poets, the dreamers, the one half mad in love with ideas, the ones who hold stories in our bloodstream. The ripest of our mother’s fruit, our speech is the vessel of truth for all those who have been silenced by lies. We speak to break the silence and love to pay homage to our souls.
To love us is to know the world itself.
—  A.P. (4.2.16)

The story behind these photos and why I took them (random but whatever lol).
I hate that I’m so obsessed with my body. I always think negatively about it. It’s either my weight, stretch marks, cellulite, if my stomachs flat enough… And then it goes to “should I eat today?” or buying fat burning pills. It sucks :/.
It all started when I was dating a guy when I was about 17/18 and he was 23. He basically told me if I didn’t stay the way I looked he wouldn’t date me. So during that time I dropped down to 110lb and I thought I was happy. I wasn’t. I looked sick and felt like if I moved or bent a certain way I’d break in half. Long story short he cheated on me and we broke up and I was crushed. Cause I felt like no one would want to date me because of how I looked.
I’ve struggled with my body/weight for years cause I was so set on looking perfect. Lately I’ve been doe about my cellulite and stretch marks and how I shouldn’t model anymore because of it. What if they see my flaws and make fun of them? And with having bad anxiety and depression I don’t deal with body criticism well. I find myself looking at everyday girls on here and see how perfect they look and only wish I looked that good. I hate this obsession. So today I decided to throw something cute on and take some pictures to remind myself that I look fucking fine. I’ve been trying to remind myself that the right guy I find won’t care (hopefully) about my cellulite or stretch marks or whatever. So why should I care THAT much? Eating healthy and working out is all I need to do. And work on being happy with my body and forget all the negativity. ☺️


this makes me smile :)