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“Diary Of A Black Woman” 

#blacklivesmatter 

I’m Daphine Bush, the editor of Simply Daph blog. I grew up in Louisiana, being the oldest of five of the most amazing siblings. I’m so proud to be able to say that I’ve had the honor of being married to my best friend for 17 beautiful years. We are the proud parents of three marvelous and intelligent children. Being a black woman, and self-employed in America has undoubtedly  caused me to have a unique perspective towards the racial pandemic we are currently facing. 

In light of recent events, suppressed experiences have taken hold of my mind like a hijacked vehicle, strapping me into the seatbelt of reality, forcing me down a memory lane in my mind that I wish I could avoid. Traveling down this memory lane leads to a desolate wasteland I’d like to call FEAR VALLEY. It’s a place where I have stacked and strategically hidden all of the moments of pain and disappointment and rejection that came as a result of my being black in America. I took some time to revisit why I cry when someone rejects me, and I concluded the root cause is that my supposed value had already been utterly diminished when I was born here. I was categorized as a “minority” and all the negative connotations that come with that scarlet letter before I’d done anything to even validate it. With this sentencing, I unawarely adopted this same sentiment for myself. 

I love God and see him as the creator of us all. Though I attempt to show that love, my skin color has prevented some from reciprocating that love back. Growing up in Louisiana I have been racially profiled, followed and deemed as suspicious when I’ve gone into stores to shop. I have been teased and mocked as an adolescent by non black classmates. As a business woman, promising opportunities and commendable moments have always been fleeting, eluding my attainment. I have even had to overcome subliminal “self hate” because it was consistently suggested that the features of my entire physical makeup was less than others.

At this moment I can still say, I am grateful to God for his healing in my life. He has allowed me to take this trip down memory lane to strip away all of the hurt. He has shown me that to HIM we all matter with no relevance to color. He has loved me through my inherited turmoil and my quest to prove my worth to those who may never acknowledge it. Although I have been oftentimes despised and rejected, at the same time, I’ve been sustained and protected by my father above. I want more black Americans to realize that although we are in a system that wasn’t designed to acknowledge our value, we are in the hands of the creator and his will is that we thrive and stand strong.

Even in the fire we should manifest his love toward us, shaming prejudice in all its forms, remembering that his strength is made perfect in our weakness.