I grew up in a family where race was never discussed in-depth. Of course, we all knew that we were Black and we all agreed that racism was a thing.
But, we made sure to blend as best as we could into the predominantly white society of western Canada. At times, I remember hating my Blackness and I remember letting it hold me back from loving myself.
As I grew older, I began to grow into it and to appreciate my unique beauty as a Black woman. Along the way, I’ve learned some lessons about Black womanhood that my mother never told me.Read more on theeverygirl.com