The sweat between my palms
Sweat under my arms
And the constant urge to go to the toilet.
Speak louder they say
You’re African and Africans are not shy
Speak with confidence they say
You were great!
I wish I could speak like you they say
You have no reason to be nervous
But I just can’t help it.
Constantly conscious of my self-image
Always in a cycle of self-doubt
Filled with psychological wounds that are self-inflicted
Timer ready to self-destruct
But I know that my heart is pumped with self-love
So why do I spend time on self-hate?
Is it because of pressures of never being good enough?
The unachievable standards society has set for girls like me?
Scared of letting people down
Or it is all in my head?
I am amazing
I am me
anxiety is a part of me
But I will not let it define me.
Words By Kuki.
Artwork by @KirzArt