As girls and even into our womanhood, we are faced with many challenges on our journey in our lives. But as brown girls and women, we are picked apart, misjudged, and disrespected. On the positive spectrum, we are also loved, celebrated, beautiful, and intelligent. We are capable and are continuing to prove that we are and will be more than what society claims we will be. As a proud brown girl, I believe that society has placed African-Americans in a box. Both males and females. I admire those who are actively doing their part to one: leave a lasting impression on the world, two: dedicating time to education, and three: living a life that inspires & reflects light. As humans, regardless of color, age, socio-economic status, gender, and other characteristics, we MUST build each other up rather than tear each other down in order to change the world and create a better place for our children and future generations. As women, it is imperative as well as our duty to love ourselves unconditionally, smile and laugh often, and NEVER allow ANYONE to steal our joy. 

-Chloe Jenkins

I’ll be honest, I don’t recall ever truly feeling I was Beautiful until I was in middle school. Before that night, which I remember quite vividly, I never confidently acknowledged my dark skin. I hid from it until the sixth grade, then I dealt with it until some point in middle school and now, I continue to find Confidence and Beauty in it. Growing up no one emphasized the importance of having Pride in being Black, the Power in Womanhood was rarely emphasized and I was NEVER reassured that it was okay to be dark skinned. And why should anyone have? I lived with my mother until I was fourteen and all but maybe five of my family members on her side were light skinned. Some of the women that I considered to be dark skinned and admired them for their confidence turned out to identify themselves as brown skinned. This turned me off. I was not an in between shade. I was not on the lighter side of dark. I had nowhere to run. So although my loved ones sometimes told me I was Beautiful, I don’t think I believed it until middle school. (I’ll mention that I needed the reassurance that it was more than okay for me to be dark skinned because I received a lot of ridicule and harassment from peers growing up because of my skin color.) On this night, probably in the eighth grade, I was taking sassy little selfies in the mirror with my mother’s digital camera. I had a relaxer, hair styled in a bob with a swoop bang, Blistex on my full lips, Beauty Supply pearl earrings and a pair of Stunna Shades on. (Not much, right?) My task was to take a picture I’d be proud to post as a representation of myself on MySpace. After a few successful shots I told myself I was “cute” in a matter of fact way. I thought I was Beautiful but I wouldn’t dare say it out loud because 1) I thought it was arrogant and 2) I knew not everyone else thought so and THIS still mattered to me and some sometimes, quite unfortunately, these doubtful feelings try to creep up on me.

read her full article here!