Back At It Again

Hello everyone, it’s ya girl Amoafoa back at it again.

I cannot say how thankful I am for all of you who have been here with me and have criticized, complimented, contributed to the growth of this my section of the internet and to my own growth. To all of you who are new to this site, welcome and I hope we can grow together.

The expat mannequin began in my quest for a self-expressive space, although I don’t think at the time I knew that was what I was looking for.

It started on tumblr with my constant reblogging of fashion and of beauty shots, of images I found compelling and found myself inspired by. It started from my wanting to wear pink trousers, and wear my braids in space buns, and wear bum shorts without feeling policed. I remember I would tell all my friends to start blogs- mainly because I really couldn’t admit it to myself that I wanted to, and when I did succeed in being honest with myself, I was afraid no one would want to read it or care. I was worried about everyone else because I was not as yet ready to see myself.

I eventually started it anyway, with my tumblr which I changed the look of constantly. I was never satisfied with the way it looked, with the way I looked, with the content I was producing, and it really was because I knew I was half assing it.

It sounds stupid to say out loud but for a very long time I’ve been afraid of putting my everything into the work I do, academically, at work, or with personal projects, because I’ve been afraid of putting in everything but ending up average. The idea that I am just another average Joe terrifies me, and was only intensified when I went to college and found myself feeling constantly underprepared, just always less.

Thinking about it now, I realize that I made the decision somewhere in the last couple of years to be mediocre, and to resign myself to complacency. I wouldn’t challenge myself, I wouldn’t work hard, I would just go with whatever flow and end up wherever I did.

My semester away and my time at home were an important part of my waking up from that nasty excruciating lull, and that’s why now I’m a huge advocate for taking time away for yourself to really just think.

Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t wake up one day in Milan and think, now I know exactly the person I am and what I want and now I’m the world’s hardest worker. Today, I still find myself wallowing in feeling stuck rather than pouring my energy into sketches, into writing, into art.

It was a slow but conscious decision I made while away and while at my mother’s bosom in Accra, to come to terms with myself, and to work on making that self a person I am proud of. I have had and still have failings along the way, I have wanted to give up on myself along the way, but every day I try to force myself to make the decision again to love myself enough to push myself and to let myself be free spirited. I remind myself that I am wonderfully and fearfully made by God, and He makes nothing mediocre.

In this journey that I am continuing on, I have also learned to love myself physically. With my personal experience growing up dark skinned in Accra, I internalized colorism. I recognized that the beautiful love interest in music videos was light skinned, that the face of the natural hair movement was fair with a defined curl pattern, and that women who looked like me were the before picture for bleaching creams which promised to give you a better life, even change your destiny. And without realizing how it happened, I believed them. I looked online for bleaching forums and memorized the names of bleach cream ingredients, I searched my local pharmacy’s shelves for something that looked like it would do the job, but wasn’t too obvious, and I used them earnestly, praying for skin to turn even just two shades lighter so I would finally be beautiful. Luckily, I was too impatient to exercise the discipline of religious use they require, and bottle after bottle of lotion which did not work quickly enough piled up on my vanity.

I was soon after catapulted into my college career and found even bigger insecurities that went deeper than my skin, that questioned the very essence of my self as I understood it. And while I am still answering those questions about what I believe in and what I want, I feel like I have come to an acceptance of myself that is growing increasingly unapologetic day by day.

Why did I walk you through my growth? Because I want this space to be a safe space for you that click on. I want you to know that growing takes time, that self love takes time and that doubt and uncertainty, mistakes and failures, are not things to be ashamed of. I also want you to know that your life and how you feel about it are a series of conscious decisions and we have so much more power over ourselves than we often exercise.

Above all really, what I want you to know is The Expat Mannequin is here because representation, and wholesome uplifting representation matters. I want dark skinned girls who don’t see themselves in mainstream media to see me wearing bright fuschia lipstick, blue braids, tailored trousers, flowing gowns and see that they can be anything. That they are beautiful, that they are complex, that they are nobody’s stereotype, and nobody’s second class citizen. At the same time, this blog is very much selfish. It’s an outlet for me to be and to grow in creating images that I am proud of and share them with you.

In essence, it’s a way for me to learn and love to be a dark skinned black African girl who is Christian, who loves fashion and the art that is personal style, who can find love in both men and women, who is angry at the oppression of people of color around the world, and who is learning freedom – and who hopefully, by being unapologetically herself can encourage you to do same.

Peace, love and funk,

Amoafoa.