Chapter 10: Big Panties & Bold Beginnings
Time has a funny way of healing things you didn't even realize were still bleeding.
At first, I thought the peace I found after that commercial was just a flash — another emotional high I'd crash from eventually. But days turned into weeks. Weeks into months. And somehow, I was still standing. Still wearing my cotton with pride. Still wrapping my hair in scarves like I owned every inch of this world.
The jokes at work never fully stopped — some people just can't help but be small-minded — but they lost their power over me. I stopped flinching. Stopped shrinking. Stopped pretending I wasn't exactly who I was meant to be.
I even forgave Simone.
Not because she deserved it — she definitely needed to sit with her mess for a while — but because holding onto that hurt only kept me stuck in the past. She may have exposed me without permission, but she also showed me how much weight my story carried. How many people saw themselves in my struggle.
And maybe… that wasn't all bad.
I wasn't looking for love — not from anyone else, anyway. I was finally busy falling head over heels for myself again. For the woman who could walk into a room and feel grounded, not guarded. The woman who knew that her joy was not something to apologize for. The woman who wore granny panties like a badge of honor and didn't care who knew it.
Then came the suggestion.
It was during a lazy Sunday brunch with my best friend, Tia. We were laughing over mimosas and fried plantains when she casually said, "Girl, you should start a blog."
I blinked. "About what?"
"About you . About your journey. About how you wear your panties like you wear your heart — big, bold, and unapologetic."
I laughed it off at first. Me? A blogger? Please.
But later that night, I couldn't stop thinking about it.
What if someone out there needed to hear my story?
What if there was another girl hiding her favorite pair in the back of the drawer because she was afraid of being made fun of?
What if I could remind someone that loving yourself — even through broken hearts and betrayals — is the most powerful kind of love?
So I sat down at my laptop.
Stared at the blinking cursor like it was a dare.
And then I typed:
BIG PANTIES & BROKEN HEARTS
Yes, I loved big panties — and I'm not even a little bit ashamed to say it.
My name is Tubo, and I've gone through cycles of broken hearts, betrayal, shame, and self-doubt — all because I refused to hide who I was. I wore my cotton like armor. My lace like rebellion. My ruffles like royalty.
And yes, I lost people along the way.
Boyfriends who wanted me to tone it down. Friends who didn't understand why I clung so hard to something so... simple.
But here's the truth:
Granny panties weren't just underwear to me.
They were a symbol of everything I refused to erase — my heritage, my femininity, my refusal to fit into a world that wants Black women to be smaller, quieter, less.
This is my story.
Of love.
Of loss.
Of learning that sometimes the bravest thing you can do is stand firm in who you are — even when the whole world tries to laugh you out of your own skin.
And guess what?
I'm no longer broken.
I'm unbroken.
And I intend to stay that way — one pair of big, beautiful granny panties at a time.
I hit publish with trembling fingers.
Tears welled up in my eyes.
But these weren't tears of shame.
These were tears of freedom.
Because for the first time in my life, I had shared my truth with the world.
And I hoped — somewhere out there — someone would read it and feel seen.
Just like I once did.