Each of us are special

Your womanhood is not a contract that needs to be solidified

It is not nor will it ever be something you need to prove
Your womanhood is not a measure of how many people desire you

How many children you bear or raise

How well you can keep a home by cooking or cleaning

Your womanhood is not a contract that needs to be solidified 

You don’t need to fit a certain aesthetic 

Your body doesn’t need to be a certain size

All breasts, hips and thighs are welcome

Tiger stripes too

 Those natural lines aren’t a must

So don’t worry just come as you are

Embrace yourself for the woman that you’ve become

Work to live your best life

Take care of YOU first

Invest time in resting

Develop  your thoughts and beliefs 

Choose to  love yourself wholeheartedly 

Your womanhood is not a contract that needs to be solidified 

You are enough just as you are

Remember every woman is important 

This Flesh

In this here place, we flesh; flesh that weeps, laughs; flesh that dances on bare feet in grass. Love it. Love it hard. Yonder they do not love your flesh. They despise it. They don’t love your eyes; they’d just as soon pick em out. No more do they love the skin on your back. Yonder they flay it. And O my people they do not love your hands. Those they only use, tie, bind, chop off and leave empty. Love your hands! Love them. Raise them up and kiss them. Touch others with them, pat them together, stroke them on your face ’cause they don’t love that either. You got to love it, you! And no, they ain’t in love with your mouth. Yonder, out there, they will see it broken and break it again. What you say out of it they will not heed. What you scream from it they do not hear. What you put into it to nourish your body they will snatch away and give you leavins instead. No, they don’t love your mouth. You got to love it. This is flesh I’m talking about here. Flesh that needs to be loved. Feet that need to rest and to dance; backs that need support; shoulders that need arms, strong arms I’m telling you. And O my people, out yonder, hear me, they do not love your neck unnoosed and straight. So love your neck; put a hand on it, grace it, stroke it and hold it up. and all your inside parts that they’d just as soon slop for hogs, you got to love them. The dark, dark liver–love it, love it and the beat and beating heart, love that too. More than eyes or feet. More than lungs that have yet to draw free air. More than your life-holding womb and your life-giving private parts, hear me now, love your heart. For this is the prize.

-Baby Suggs( Beloved, Toni Morrison)