Nova-rose-greene - Nova Rose

A brown skinned girl

I made my Animoji the other day

And I felt satisfied

seeing myself winking a buldgy bubbly wink

But it wasn’t until my friend

This man

Judged me for the way I made her look

“Whaaa? Why the frick does it look like this? Are you trying to be darker?”

I sink in my seat

“You wanna sing brown skin girl so bad. Do you wanna be darker?”

I can’t respond.

“It’s okay, I wanna be darker too.”

But that’s not what I said.

That’s not how I felt.

It took me awhile to embrace the skin that I was in.

In 1st grade I asked my teacher how to spell Carmel, chocolate, and butterscotch

I wanted to know all my delectable choices

I wanted to find the sweet spot that described me just right.

Rich and full of healthy coco goodness.

But as I grew people assumed I was mixed.

Milk + chocolate.

Maybe cookies and cream.

I was definitely called an Oreo, and at the time it made sense.

But I am mixed with my mom and my dad.

Dark Chocolate

And butterscotch.

And rich combination.

I thought I was cute because other people found my skin and curls desirable.

But they didn’t find me desirable just my lightly coated exterior.

One summer I was working hard and someone spotted me from not to far and they said ,

“Briana is that you? Damn you got crispy! I didn’t even recognize you.”

I was hurt.

I got use to the comfort I found in the hungry eyes of others.

But only when i was looked at as a delectable 9/12 months of the year.

In the summer I baked, and it shifted the way I was received.

I moved One summer, and was told that I couldn’t claim the end of the spectrum I thought I belonged on.

“You can’t be light skin. This dude is light skin. Your brown”

I said

it’s summer.

I’m tan.

it’ll fade.

Itll... fade....

My desirability will grow when my tan fades

Don’t worry

I might be a little over done now, but find me on display in the winter, you’ll see I’ll be just right for the picking.

How awful did that self loathing taste.

It took another mans validation for me to embrace my tan.

“Your not crispy, your glowing”

Your right I am

For the first time I got sum burned,

But that nap under the sun was truly worth it,

Because all the light I absorbed in that day,

I exuded over the rest of the summer.

Even though it hurt, I was walking in a skin that felt just right .

I realized that I could also be desirable in all my shades all year round.

But then in a summer of transformation, I started to feel Green.

I danced till my spirit moved,

I leaped, and twirled around the magnetic power that held me together.

Truly I was green until the mirror reminded me otherwise.

Truly I was the air,

Breathing with the sky.

I was so much more then a shade,

I was the light.

I got comfortable with me.

I validated my self , with the pleasure of existences.

The summer I turned green I couldn’t tell you what the rest of the world saw me as, nor did I care.

I WAS FREAKING GREEN!

But I recently stopped dancing.

I recently overfilled myself with things of the world and I’ve lost touch with the colors of my spirit.

So to hear,

“You wanna be brown skin so bad.. “

Felt so uncomfortable.

I have brown skin.

The world will call me black,

And I know that inside I’m green.

But my skin is literally brown.

Regardless what shade my brown takes at this point in time... it’s still brown.

It’s still just skin.

But honestly it just made me want to find myself back to the summer where I discovered I was Greene.

I wanna keep losing myself in the vibrations of the earth.

I wanna know what’s shade I’m in now, tomorrow, and the infinity of beyond.

Is it green?

or have I shifted to a saturated burgandy?

I wonder if I’ve got polka dots hidden under my layers of rich rich red.

There’s only one way to find out.

Time to deep dive out of the pools of others desires of and into the ocean of divinity that’s contained by this ever shifting brown skin.

I miss the First Family [x]

I am a non binary black woman

I am a Black Femme

I am a spirit

I am a reflection of my creator

Gender performance is an expression

How we display our gender is based on our understanding of who we are.

How we perform our expression of self with the vessel were given is up to us.

I am spirit and spirit is not gendered

Man is.

Gender is a man made construct.

So if I am spirit like my creator, my reflection and expression of my spirit is based in what?

A choice

Who I was taught to be was a black femme.

How I was conditioned to perform and how I intuitively express

Is as a black femme

Who I reflect is who I was made in the image of

Generations of creators passing their image

Their expressions

Their reactions

Their performances

To me

The reflections of the range and depth of black femme, will forever continue to influence the shape of the world I be in.

It’s this lens that morphs my understanding of myself and my selfs expression.

With the understanding and encouragement

To continue to push and morph the lens

Break it if needed

And thus continuing to expand and experiment

.

.

.

.

And lastly

If gender is a construct anyway and language can be mailable. then why not find the right words to best express for the present and future understandings of self. Facts can be temporary as the present state of a matter or idea are applicable in the present. But as time moves forward, the present does too. And previous facts only remain facts in context of their historical stand point.

Express for the present

Change your expression with your understanding.

If you’d like .

I’m gonna sub coffee for water and throw In a song and dance.

https://www.instagram.com/thepersonalquotes/

I’d watch it

A Dope World Series A Different World spin off starring LaCienega Boulevardez as Whitley Gilbert and Gerald Martin Johanssen as Dwayne Wayne.

Ig @ashleighsharmaine

#ADopeWorld #yoashisdope #ashleighsharmaine

Black aesthetic: Flowers🌼🌺🌸 (I do not claim ownership of any of the above photos.)

Sometimes I stare into the mirror trying to see if I can see my soul . Sometime I see something scary. Sometimes I see me . Sometimes I just notice my eyes, and the shadows of the eyelashes.i notice my nose and all the pores that are open and the ones that are clogged. I notice a lot about me , but I don’t always see me. Sometimes I don’t trust mirrors.sometimes I think they’re lying to me. Sometimes I want them to tell me the truth. I want them to show me me. But it’s hard to see what I see and accept what I see. Because what am I really looking at? I was looking for me but did I see me ? Or did I see my eyes. Or did I see my soul? What am I ? Who am ? What do I see? What does everyone else see?

Canyons, stairs, and so much green. So far the best path I’ve ever seen.

The only thing I have to do

Is be obedient to my maker

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