Buy Some New Draws!!!

Somebody hold my purse, cause y'all might want to fight after this… but we going to have this little come-to-Jesus moment, just us girls. (even though this applies to the fellas too!)

I’m scrolling through my feed, and I see y’all posting these flawless brunch pictures, these "soft life" affirmations, and these perfectly manicured nails. (And it don’t matter if they’re press on or not!)   Hair coifed to the Gods, eyebrows on fleek, and lashes cat-TF-eyed!! (I’m a cluster girly so guard your grill) You look like a whole expensive snack on the outside. But, IF you're wearing any, I bet yall got on some old ass draws!! 

I know what's going on.

Because I’ve been there. I know you’ve got that one pair—the raggedy ones. The ones with the elastic that gave up on life five years ago. They got holes, they’re gray instead of white, and the cotton in the middle is BARELY hanging on!  And why do we keep them? Because they’re "comfortable." Girl, what’s comfortable about a permanent wedgie and threadbare cotton? Undies be about two sizes small cutting off all the circulation at the top of your thighs!  That ain't comfort; that’s emotional stagnation.

Hear me out!  We talk a good game about self-care, don't we? We buy the jade roller, we light the $40 candle, we sit in silence for five minutes and call it "meditation." Then we pull out the body oils, body butter, and some niche fragrance that ran us $450!!  That’s all well and good, honey.  And I can even recommend a few fragrances to grow your collection, but when you are wearing panties that look like they survived the Civil War, you are sending a clear message to the universe, and frankly, to yourself: “I’m not worth the new pack of Hanes.”

And that is where I have to step in and snatch you bald with truth. 

Your value does not stop at your skin, boo. Your energy, your worth, and your power go all the way down to that sad, faded piece of fabric you call a panty.

So, here is your mandatory, non-negotiable, high-priority assignment for the week: Buy some new underwear.

I don't care if it's the six-pack of soft cotton hipsters, a few cheeky thongs that make you feel like Beyoncé, or even some proper shapewear to tuck in that winter weight. Just get something that is the correct size, has all of its elasticity intact, and is a color you actually like—not that weird brownish-yellowy beige that only exists in nursing homes.

This isn't a frivolous expense. This is maintenance for your soul. I promise it is.

When you put on something new, something fresh, something that hasn't betrayed you by falling apart in the wash—it’s a different kind of confidence. It’s that secret, internal glow that says, “My life is together, and if I had to strip down right now, I would still look like a winner.”

It is the cheapest, easiest, most foundational act of self-care you can do today. So ditch the drawers that look like they belong in a museum display labeled "Neglect." Get the new ones, put them on, and go handle your business. Let me let y'all go before I talk about the bras with only one underwire, because you pulled the other one out after it broke through material after is 9,235th wear... but I digress.

Nah... I change my mind: BUY A NEW BRA TOO!!