The Green Towel
By Ayoka B.
My mother doesn’t know. When I was about eight or nine, I used to drape a light, green towel over my head. The edge lay along my hairline and it would hang down the sides of my head, giving me length.
I would flip that "hair" back while I gazed at my reflection. I danced around our apartment. I didn't know that I felt unpretty; ignorant that the whiteness surrounding me made me feel lesser.
My dark, curly hair that flowed down my back was covered by a green towel.
Ayoka B. explores themes of Womanhood, love, loss and family through poetry, fiction and creative nonfiction. Through her unique lens, she tells the untold stories of mothers, sisters, daughters, friends and wives. A DC native, she lives in Costa Rica with her family. Her goal as an author is for readers to connect with her words and find joy.