The Case for Black Milfs
One of the saddest things I've ever heard a man tell a woman is, "we can no longer do the freaky things we used to do because you're someone's mother now"
Wait….. what?
So the things we did to create this child, planned or not, are no longer allowed a go because I, she, we have either pushed and/or had a kid ripped from our beings? I, she, we are left to now either recluse to sexual repression or be deemed a whore?
The argument against black women being sexy after childbirth is not new; the opponents have just grown louder: many of whom are neither mothers nor intend to be. Most are social media driven versions of ourselves who’ve built soapboxes between courses of Black Woman Etiquette 204.
We're fighting against ourselves so violently in the open that others join the maylay to get in where they fit in. And I ask why? Why do we shade ourselves so?
To say the code of ethics in the black american community concerning us women changes but stays the same is an extreme understatement. We love a sista who struts and commands attention without even trying. But the moment she adds "Mommy" to her list of phenomenal achievements, she is more or less instructed to cover up: we no longer want to gaze upon that which made us want to love on you in the first place.
MILFs and Cougars are revered in the white community while when we become mothers we are handed doilies and choir robes to don from the hospital to the grave. God forbid you still got it after kids, you heifer. A baby from and on those hips you should now be ashamed of. Erica Campbell sings to the Lord but is reprimanded for her shape. A character of Kerry Washington's was called into question even stronger after real-life pregnancy. Beyoncé continues to muse of enjoying sex with her husband; not her boo or even some random dude, but her husband and the internet explodes. She amongst many other black women are strong proponents of the cause of sexy after childbirth, she in particular never letting go of sexy while going about things "the right way", i.e : marriage before kids. Regardless of how our children come to be, why should we need to hide our femininity afterwards? Our sexuality? Our own fever?
As a mother, I already have days when I'm feeling as pretty as the stretch marks that now line my tummy. But on the days I look, feel and talk like a firecracker, I shouldn't and don't need permission to rock me out in the public with my daughter. I wish a man or anyone who doesn't have children would tell me I can't be sexy. I have the suture scars to prove otherwise. The nerve and self acceptance to dance when I so choose in a cut-off tee and thigh high socks.
The argument about Mimi and shower rods, Blue watching her mom twerk and pretty much any black woman celebrity who refused to clock out after kids has and will ultimately be a catalyst in this discussion. In her own way, she will have to explain if her kids ever haphazardly comes across anything suspect in a Google search. But I ask honestly: who are we to tell her what she can and cannot do? Would the blowback (no pun intended) be as harsh if she wasn't a mother? A black mother at that? An even broader case: would dad receive the same scrutiny? A painfully rhetorical question to which we already know the answer.
Still, according to the Respectability Code of Conduct, Beyoncé and those like her are encouraging teen pregnancy. Forgot the fact that teen pregnancy has been on a sharp decline in the last decade.
We’ve discovered that sex tapes don’t work for us. Apparently self-love without guilt doesn’t either.
My ultimate question: when will we let ourselves win? When will we call a truce? A thorough agree to disagree? Must the partition be so dark and the lines so thick and firm that there’s no room for, say, my own interpretation? Black is sexy: from the color on the palette to the hues that dance on our flesh. Let me prance in my own light, shaking these baby-made hips and celebrating the sexyback snapback clapback.
