In My Skin, I Am Confident

Welcome my friend Brie Scott. She has roots in Kansas and lives in Texas. She worked in journalism and somehow made her way to teach with me at a very special high school in town. She embodies confidence and self-assuredness. Read how that quality came to be for her.

When I think about that defining moment of what makes me confident in my skin, I really can’t pinpoint a particular moment. I would have to say that my people—friends and family— helped to define the person that I am today.

I recall my mother telling me a story, a month ago or so, about when I was a little girl. I don’t exactly remember the reason for this walk down memory lane, but she seemed content by the end of the story. She told me that she used to call me “My Princess,” when I was a little girl.

She recollected a particular time when I was playing with my cousins at my grandparents’ house. My grandmother commented on my “skinny legs” and “knock-knees.” My mother chuckled to herself. She smiled at me and said, “But you were My Princess—skinny knocked-knees and all.” The rest of the story continued with how she told my cousin not to mess with her “princess” and la-dee-da. A bit embarrassed, I rolled my eyes at that story, yet I was slightly amused at the pride in which she told it.

While my mother’s purpose may have been to regale in the cleverness of that nickname and situation, I took away from that story something more profound. My mother’s comment about being her “Princess—skinny knock-knees and all,” pretty much embodies the make-up of my self-assurance.

For as long as I can remember, I have always been made to feel that I was enough.

From my bashful youth to my awkward teens to my indecisive young adult life, I have never been made to feel insignificant or invisible. Don’t get me wrong, there were moments when I would love to sit on the sideline, but that was not to be had in my family.

As a youth, my parents kept me in a variety of activities that allowed me to shine (whether I cared to be involved or not.) I competed in pageants, talent shows, spelling bees, sports, everything! I was able – sometimes forced – to engage on a variety of levels that allowed me to seek out my talents. To venture in areas that I probably would have never sought out because I was shy. They allowed me to see that I am as good I want to be. They helped me be comfortable in who I was as an individual. This assuredness would follow me into school and push me through my teenage years.

Like many other teens, I went through a moment of self-doubt. Am I pretty enough? Skinny enough? Talented enough? Smart enough? However, this thought didn’t last long. I was told every day that I was enough. It was through the support of my family. It was through interactions with my friends. I mean, these were some of the most popular people in school. Beautiful, smart, social, fashionable, skinny, humorous—the life of the party. That was my crew. We were on different levels.

Some of them dated earlier than me. Some of them got a car before me. Some of them had a cellphone before me. (Hey, that was a big deal back in the day). Whatever comes to mind when you think of the popular girls, that was my crew. Yet, they never made me feel any different. Don’t get me wrong, I was no ugly duckling, I was just reserved. But I was comfortable in my reservation because the people around me showed me that I was enough. I wasn’t forced to fit in. I wasn’t peer pressured into doing anything I felt uncomfortable doing. I was celebrated for who I was.

And, as an adult, I am still celebrated for who I am.

I was never discouraged from moving from state to state, chasing a career that I felt “eh” about. I may have received a few side-eyes, but my people were still down for the cause. I was never discouraged from pursuing another career that I didn’t even get a degree in. And, I was never discouraged from going back to school to get another advanced degree that I may or may not use (shrugs).

Instead, I was told to venture out, seek out my talents, and remember that I am as good as I want to be.

I am comfortable in the skin I’m in because I was assured that my skin was enough.

I have accomplished all that I have set out to do in my own time, my own path, my own way. I am so glad that my people celebrate who I am—a self-confident black woman.