I Am A “Problematic” Black Girl

Problematic

Being “problematic” isn’t a title which many people would bear with pride. It’s not even a label I necessarily want. But it is a label which I’ve been called a few times.

I say things with which many folks agree. I, also, say a plethora of things people abhor. I base my opinions from personal experiences as well as research and at this point in the game- that’s the standard on which I base living my life.

Sometimes…  Many times, that’s a difficult pill to swallow in an endless sea of people who attempt to silence black women daily.

We, black women, are held to a standard most others are not. Others being everybody and their mama. We shouldn’t talk too loud, wear tight clothes, wear loose clothes, curse, drink, enjoy sex, call people out, have an opinion unless it’s given to us, put ourselves first and/ or send self-serving negros packing because God forbid we don’t want to seem “too strong”. What a burden and “I’s muhfuggin tied!”

Being problematic doesn’t solely lend itself to social justice circles. It’s woven in the tapestry of family life (see wack ass in-laws, parents, spouses or children).

I made a conscious decision to live my best life. Over half of my life is over and I refuse to give another day to another asshole’s opinion of what’s best or right for me and mine. I speak on what moves me. I do what makes me happy. And it’s magical.

problematic

I give myself a certain level of accountability because I choose to be “problematic”. Therefore, I make conscious decisions to advocate for self-love and self-care for black women without guilt. I can say, “I don’t care!”.  And with a completely straight face because I refuse to allow others to define what and who matters to me. I am not here to take on everybody’s issues. I am perfectly fine staying in my lane and driving my life in a direction that may or may not involve others.

Apologizing for who I am is NOT an option. I urge other black women to throw self-defeat and complacency in the trash. Find your voice. Live out loud.

Do whatever that means for you. Kick ass and take names and know that you can and will be supported and loved.

 

 

 

K. Araújo, a native Detroiter, is a cross between Claire Huxtable, Rosie Pérez and Millie Jackson. Widow, professional dragger of filth and Mami to the dopest Ethiopian EVER, she is the Editor in Chief of “Negra With Tumbao” and a Staff Writer for “The Urban Twist”. Keka has been known to shake what her mama gave her, is the hell and high water, an expert salsera and cussologist with a penchant for the finer things in life and is and forever shall be- unapologetically black.