What's so sad is, I grew up hating my self. I hated everything about me, my hair, my eyes, my face, my weight, my skin, you name it and I hated it. I spent countless hours and days trying to perfect myself to live up to the standards I felt were considered perfect. Spending my entire educational career at a predominantly caucasian school didn't quite help my self image. I thought I needed to be white in order to be successful and happy in life because that's what I saw around me. White meant carefree and happy. It wasn't until my freshman year in college where I met a group of young black girls who were just like me! Suddenly, I didn't want straight thin hair anymore, I embraced my natural large lips and my curves. I embraced my black skin because I truly felt beautiful. Surrounded by these young girls just like me and meeting young men who thought I was gorgeous was something I never honestly came across in high school. I had two technically three boyfriends who yeah said I was pretty every now and then but I didn't believe them because I didn't believe in myself. It took a change in my everyday surroundings to get me to see that I am beautiful in mind, body and soul. Nothing and no one should ever break that.