Life as a modest girl

I’m going to talk about modesty in black women and confidence.

There are some important facts you should know about me.

1.      I am 30 years of age at time of writing

2.      I am black

3.      I am size 10, but not toned in my upper body.

4.      I am go from pretty to stunning dependent on lighting and makeup.

5.      I am a self confidence body journey.

Now you understand me perfectly.

Black women have often been sexualised in the media. Some of the music videos out there are basically porn. I’m young enough to dance to them (I don’t) but I’m old enough to know that is going to go sideways in 10 years.

My mantra with clothes is never wear anything you don’t want your grandkids to see you in (MUM, I AM LOOKING AT YOU WITH THOSE 80’s SHOULDERPADS!) We all have different sides to our personality and we all mellow with age. So don’t wear anything you’d be embarrassed to wear in 40 years. I’m side eyeing myself as an outfit in my current line of vision is a stunning orange number I wore to Antigua, Shirley Palace. It was out of my comfort zone (no bra) but I can honestly say, when I wore my makeup and that dress I was stunning, and sexy. I have never been sexy before. I guess because I rejected sex so often with my ex and rejected being sexualised it was weird being in a place where I was enjoying being sexy. I definitely have that side to my personality. I have always considered it best saved for my husband. Not from a “purity culture” perspective. What you need to know about me is that I’m a shy person, reserved even. I don’t give a lot of myself to a lot of people. Therefore I can only ever give my body to one person, that is the man I will marry and spend the rest of my life with. (my ex husband was a mistake)

I was a late bloomer. As a child my mum made me dresses as sewing was her hobby. As an adolescent I didn’t get to explore my sexuality because my dad became a Methodist priest. I was 13. It therefore kept me a child for a lor longer in the way I dressed. I didn’t dress like a young adult. I dressed like someone who was covering her body because she was still too young for the male gaze.

Adolescence was harder than it needed to be. As a teen in an all white society in the “Hannah Montana” generation and “High school musical” world I covered up a lot because I wasn’t the standard of beauty. I didn’t see anyone who looked like me and how they dressed (there was a black girl in high school musical, but she was a side character and light skinned with permed hair so I couldn’t model myself on her wholly) I was also a Minister’s daughter and how I dressed mattered to my Father’s self image. It was hard enough being a black minister with a white church, without your daughter dressing like a hoe. Therefore even though I’m naturally reserved by nature, I added an extra layer of modesty because I needed to make sure my dad didn’t look bad.

Then I became an adult. That self depreciation followed me. Its not modesty per say. It is a manifestation of low self esteem. Yep I’m that honest. Low self esteem drove a lot of my style choices in my 20's. I told the story in one of my earlier blogs when I divorced my husband I had never owned more than 1 pair of jeans at a time+ a jeans skirt. He meanwhile would take his mistresses shopping for clothes and so when he left he had a minimum of 16 pairs of jeans (I counted) I actually took 5 of them so it was over 20. And those were the jeans I wore daily between my divorce and getting a life coach who informed me that was in no way shape or form healthy.

I’m a black woman. I’m a Harris. (Harris is my maternal Grandmother’s maiden name) as a result I have inherited the “Big African arms” so prevalent in west African women. We carry weight in our arms and they are hell to tone. As a result I don’t wear short sleeved/sleeveless tops. My dream wedding dress is one where I have my arms exposed. It’s a really important factor to the dress.

I want to tell you about how self esteem and self concept are interlinked. I for the longest time believed that I was unlovable. I also believed that no one would want me, so I covered up so no one would see me. The secret hope was that the only one who would see me was my magically prince Charming. I built my walls high. In fact the person who saw me was my ex. Very not Prince Charming.

As I grow older, I my self concept is one of a liberated woman. I am free because I made it alive out of my abusive relationship. Therefore something that is increasingly important to me is toning up, and showing my navel because I didn’t do it when I was in my 20’s. it is the vision for the woman I want to be. Modestly showing that she is an empowered, powerful woman. I walk somewhere between 15,000-20,000 steps per day. My lower body is fire. I’m very proud of it, my future husband is a lucky man. There I dominate.  I could do sexy legs all day long. I don’t have a big bust or a defined waist, but my hips, bottom and legs are amazing. Herein lies my problem. I am a “fuller bottomed” girl, modern jeans are designed for women who are apple shaped. I.e. big bust, big shoulders and narrow hips. My hips just don’t fit. I find myself buying new jeans every few months because it rips in the inner thighs to make room for my hips. Hence why I had until 2020 owned more than 1 pair of jeans. Another reason to cover up. I can only wear high waisted jeans because that is the only jeans that will get over my bottom.

But i also like showing softer sides to me. I love 1950’s fashion. Its very girly and feminine and that’s me. I love dressing up. I also love sitting in my PJ’s hair looking like a hornet nest and writing on my laptop.

I have friends who dress more provocatively than me. I have no hate for it, I was imbued with hang-ups that they weren’t. I want my daughters to be free of that too. But I also want them to be children for as long as possible. As a result of all that modesty and covering up, I felt safe, I felt protected I was shielded from the male gaze. Its sad to trade one for the other. I want you, however you dress to feel magical, empowered and powerful. It’s your birth right. You are beautiful.

Grace and Courage.

Annetta Mother-Smith.