I was 11 when I wore my first pair of heels. I was 13 when I starting worrying about how my body looked because I was getting stretchmark curves. I was upset because I wasn't "skinny" anymore.
But if I could travel back in time, I'd tell my younger self that all the things I hated about my body are what make me unique and beautiful.
That all the dieting, weight loss exercising, bleaching and chemical straightening of curls are not the norm anymore. That when that little girl grew up, she would be surrounded by women fighting against unrealistic and harmful beauty standards. That she would see more representation in the media with real women of all shapes, sizes and color than ever before. That these women would be celebrated, accepted and called "beautiful" - not "beautiful for a dark skinned girl”, but just beautiful.
If I could travel back in time, I would tell my younger self that the pressure I felt from society that policed how I talked, how I carried myself, how I measured my self worth and how I thought about my future, would be lifted off my shoulders.
That pressure lessens more and more because of the amazing women that share their voices to lift other women, to help them so all women can succeed.
Coming from a society that oppressed women and placed them within the limitations of house and home, I would tell my younger self that there is more to life than being just a wife and mother. Even though those roles are valued and wonderful, they aren't the summation of a woman's existence. They aren't the only things that women were born for or born to be. And if I choose to be single and not have children, I can still be happy and feel fulfilled in my life.
I would tell her to dream big, not to worry about being “realistic” and to follow the footsteps of all the incredible women that are breaking the glass ceiling and paving the way for all other women to flourish.
This is the message I would tell my younger self on this special day that celebrates the very parts of me that were belittled and policed in my childhood. Today, I celebrate and remember that I don't need permission to wear my femininity in all its glory.