“Braids in my Head” was inspired by the specific act of getting my hair braided by my mother. I wanted to explore beauty not as something external or performative, but as something inherited, practiced, and passed down through touch, patience, and love.

The words you say to yourself count the most. There's no need to be your harshest critic, but there is a need to be your loudest cheerleader.

Beauty today feels like ownership — not approval. It is the way my skin absorbs sunlight like it was born for it, the way my hair grows upward toward the heavens, the way my body carries memory, ancestry, and sensuality with no apology. Beauty is presence. It is breath. It is inheritance.

I thought about what an iconic symbol the Mona Lisa painting is for so many, yet it never spoke to me. Then I started to think about us as Black Women being art, beautifully created and what that means to me.

When I see a woman who carries herself with grace, confidence, or quiet strength, something in me recognizes her. Her beauty reminds me of mine. It’s like looking in a mirror that reflects not just my face, but my spirit. In those moments, I’m reminded that beauty isn’t competition, it’s connection.

To me true beauty is being a beautiful person inside and out. I truly believe that if you take the time to beautify your soul, your outward appearance will reflect what is on the inside.

For me beauty has become more about a certain feeling and an appreciation for the love that is shared between loved ones.

Time in this world can make a Black woman’s love waver, but this piece is a reminder that we deserve to feel good in our skin, with or without the world’s validation.

After giving birth, I felt both miraculous and undone, caught between gratitude for my daughter and grief for the version of myself I no longer recognized.