When I look in the mirror, for the most part, I like what I see.
I like my curves, I like ass, I like my legs, I like my boobs (which I only have in abundance, when I’m tipping the scales), and I like my face.
Even so, one could argue that these mainstream films reflect the desires of white America, or more to the point, white men, and not Black men, which up to this point is the only group of men I’ve dated.
But with brothers I find, that they, too, have internalized a particular relationship to the body-type most associated with the mammy figure.
They see girls like me as sisters, as homegirls, but not as love options, because they don’t find big girls sexy.
They usually find us I know there is this myth in Black America that brothers like their sisters thick, thick like a luscious milkshake, that “brings all the boys to the yard,” as it were.
But what I call thick and what the average brother calls thick is not the same thing. (Sister looks fabulous, by the way.) Not quite Gabourey Sidibe thick. And when I was doing the online dating thing (I’ve tried it twice, and I’m taking a break) I saw one brother that specifically said, “I’m not into the Mo’Nique thing, ladies.” Translation: No fat girls need apply.