At work the other day, I surprised one of the higher ups, who always calls me beautiful as he ushers past the lowly cashiers to his office in the back. Usually I give him a mindless ‘thanks’. But yesterday I replied, “I know”.
Which stopped him in his tracks.
“Well, aren’t you humble.”
He shakes his head and continues to his office.
Why should I be? I spent twelve hours last weekend deep conditioning my hair. I spent the past three years perfecting my hair-straightening technique. I’ve spent a liftetime researching, purchasing, and trying various beauty and hair care products. I spend six hours a week working out. And endless hours looking through magazines and shopping for clothes and accessories. I put a lot of work into looking this good, of taking care of what the powers that be have bestowed onto me, and I’m supposed to bat my eyelashes to say, ‘oh, it’s nothing.” Hell naw! I want credit for my work. I’m beautiful dammit!