I went through this phase of Spandex, high heels, and fur coats when I was in my late teens and early twenties; before then, I lived in overalls and baggy T-shirts.
There’s something different about growing up black and Muslim, especially in New Jersey. It’s like when I left the mosque and I left my dad, I felt unprotected, but I also felt a weird sense of pride, like I was involved in this other way of living that was cool to me.
I’ve been known to wear pajamas onstage for the sole reason of wanting to make sure I’m free enough to execute new things vocally on stage and give my best performance possible.
How many thick black women are there singing whatever I’m singing, surrounded by rappers, but also from the suburbs? I can’t really judge someone else for judging me!
When your parents regulate everything you hear and everything you intake, it forces you to get creative in other ways. It sparked the writing bug and the very overactive imagination. Because I’ve had a lot of time by myself and a lot of time isolated from regular culture, I created my own.
I think we all do: I think we wonder if we’re supposed to be here if we’re doing the right thing, if we even want to be here. At least, I do all the time.
