This is my current body. At nine months postpartum, without my layers and colors, I look like I’m twenty-five to thirty weeks pregnant. I have to look at this frame in the mirror everyday, and get familiar with the stretch marks and the lumps. I have the accept the marks as part of my growth and journey. They will forever remind me of the fight I went through to keep Zuli safe inside of me. They will forever remind me of my strength. They are lines of the purest love. And I believe they are the greatest example of what life is all about. Beautiful. Raw. Unapologetic. But underneath these lines of strength, love, and life, live nine uterine fibroids and signs endometriosis.
Together, Zuli and I spent one hundred and forty days in the hospital this year. The day before I was admitted in the hospital, I spent most of it vomiting and feeling nauseated, lightheaded. It was a cold day in January, and I was scheduled to speak on a panel at the WeWorks in downtown Austin about social media and branding with Planoly. I came close to cancelling it, but I convinced myself I would feel better once I had my headwrap and bright lipstick on. I mustered all the energy I had, got ready, and showed up.
When I started Fanm Djanm, if my goal was to get rich and scam people, I would have quit four years ago. Starting a business from nothing is incredibly hard. Especially if the business involves art and creativity. Especially if the founder is black. And young. And a woman. You will find people laugh at you (at first). They will say "no" before you even get a chance to present your work. Then they will be inspired, and ask you all kinds of questions about your business. Then some will copy.
So I may or may not have too many basket bags. I will neither confirm or deny. They are definitely a summer staple, and I can already see how they will work into my fall and winter wardrobe. Yes, I plan on wearing some of them with plaid suits and suede boots. DON'T COME FOR ME! Isn't fashion about having fun and expression one's self anyway?