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Babes We Three Bras

Having just relocated, something that took all of me,  a lot of 'sucking it up'; I thought I was ready to take on the world. Okay, I am. But, on the morning of my First Sunday here, my ready-to-take-on-the-world shores were flooded with a tide of emotion that I've never felt before.

I am Konscious of myself. The first thing about my Self Konsciousness is feeling comfortable, in and out of my body. I have always felt that way about myself, except for that one time I was at school when my periods stARTed - I was frustrated for the whole week - but I overcame that. Fast forward to my First Sunday,  that flood of emotion came back, and it was back to strangle the life out of me. I wore my best Sunday Clothes, clothes I've been wearing and wore that morning knowing I'd look and FEEL good. Little did I know. After putting on my dress, I stARTed seeing eyes and hearing voices of judgement in my head about how short my dress was, how my cleavage was in 'their' face. I crushed! But, what would PP do? On a 'normal'  day, everyday me would not feel like this, when my clothes stART whispering it means I look hot and are bound to feel hotter than the Afrikan Sun. The Arctic had set food in Afrika that day so I changed my dress for a skirt with a vest and blazer on top, my cleavage was still loud,  my skirt too tight. I made an attempt of wearing another top, I felt like I was sitting on the Equator. Again, I crushed! I went for the first top, and the topping of that outfit came from THREE BRAS. Yes, I wore THREE BRAS. Not to lift or add volume to my boobs, but to hold it together, to hold myself together, to compose myself. As if that was not enough, I made a call that was meant to comfort me, only for me to cry as I tried explaining how I felt. I made it to church that Sunday, praise God!

I was able to fellowship that Sunday. I was preoccupied with the service that I didn't think about my Morning Meltdown. But it hit me when I got home, it was the THREE BRAS that held me together. It was the THREE BRAS that reminded me that I am vulnerable. It was the THREE BRAS that exposed me to myself. It was the THREE BRAS that picked me up.

As a womxn,  the next time you feel like your world is crumbling to pieces, wear THREE BRAS or whatever number you prefer, and face your demons.

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