Paraphrased
On being taken seriously: “I think a lot of people do not take me seriously,” “They think this is something I’ve obtained because of my husband’s income. That’s not true. He hasn’t invested a dime in my restaurant business.”
On Detractors: “It’s this weird hierarchy of misogyny,” she says. “When my career was starting to take off, this male reporter bashed me on live television, saying I should be more like the other [basketball] players’ wives. He literally said, ‘They sit there, they don’t cause any problems, and they look pretty.’”
“Why am I not allowed to have a passion and a dream and a voice?” she marvels. “That started a fire in me. I could not be stopped, and I wanted to prove myself. Now the conversation has shifted. Stephen doesn’t get any negative [questions] about me. Especially in the Bay Area, people say to him, ‘I like her food a lot,’ and that’s been special for me.”
On identifying as Black: Her mother is Jamaican and Chinese, and her dad is Polish and African American. “Growing up in Canada, I identified as all things,” she says of her childhood in Toronto, where her neighbors were mostly Asian and Indian. “Then I moved to North Carolina at 14, and that was a culture shock. That’s where I realized, I’m a black woman, something I’ve grown into appreciating and loving.” It’s also a lesson she’s passing on to her daughters. “They’re fair in complexion, and they’ve said: ‘I’m not black; look at my skin.’ And I said: ‘No, no, no. You’re a black woman. You have melanin. It’s part of who you are. Our descendants are from Africa. This is what that means.’ It’s been a journey teaching them that.’”
On what the black community could do better: “My own community needs to embrace everyone better. Sometimes I feel like I’m too black for the white community, but I’m not black enough for my own community. That’s a hard thing to carry. That’s why my partnership with CoverGirl was special for me because I felt like I didn’t fit the mold [of a CoverGirl],” she adds. “I’m not in the entertainment industry, in the traditional sense. I’m not thin; I’m 170 pounds on a good day. It’s been a journey for me, and that’s why I want my girls to understand who they are—and to love it.”
On "botched" boob job: “I didn’t realize at the time, but after having Ryan, I was battling a bit of postpartum that lingered for a while. It came in the form of me being depressed about my body,” she explains. “So I made a rash decision. The intention was just to have them lifted, but I came out with these bigger boobs I didn’t want. I got the most botched boob job on the face of the planet. They’re worse now than they were before. I would never do anything like that again, but I’m an advocate of if something makes you happy, who cares about the judgment?”
Read the rest of the interview here. I think it's an interesting read for the most part: People Didn't Take Working Mom Ayesha CurrySeriously. They Should Have
On being taken seriously: “I think a lot of people do not take me seriously,” “They think this is something I’ve obtained because of my husband’s income. That’s not true. He hasn’t invested a dime in my restaurant business.”
On Detractors: “It’s this weird hierarchy of misogyny,” she says. “When my career was starting to take off, this male reporter bashed me on live television, saying I should be more like the other [basketball] players’ wives. He literally said, ‘They sit there, they don’t cause any problems, and they look pretty.’”
“Why am I not allowed to have a passion and a dream and a voice?” she marvels. “That started a fire in me. I could not be stopped, and I wanted to prove myself. Now the conversation has shifted. Stephen doesn’t get any negative [questions] about me. Especially in the Bay Area, people say to him, ‘I like her food a lot,’ and that’s been special for me.”
On identifying as Black: Her mother is Jamaican and Chinese, and her dad is Polish and African American. “Growing up in Canada, I identified as all things,” she says of her childhood in Toronto, where her neighbors were mostly Asian and Indian. “Then I moved to North Carolina at 14, and that was a culture shock. That’s where I realized, I’m a black woman, something I’ve grown into appreciating and loving.” It’s also a lesson she’s passing on to her daughters. “They’re fair in complexion, and they’ve said: ‘I’m not black; look at my skin.’ And I said: ‘No, no, no. You’re a black woman. You have melanin. It’s part of who you are. Our descendants are from Africa. This is what that means.’ It’s been a journey teaching them that.’”
On what the black community could do better: “My own community needs to embrace everyone better. Sometimes I feel like I’m too black for the white community, but I’m not black enough for my own community. That’s a hard thing to carry. That’s why my partnership with CoverGirl was special for me because I felt like I didn’t fit the mold [of a CoverGirl],” she adds. “I’m not in the entertainment industry, in the traditional sense. I’m not thin; I’m 170 pounds on a good day. It’s been a journey for me, and that’s why I want my girls to understand who they are—and to love it.”
On "botched" boob job: “I didn’t realize at the time, but after having Ryan, I was battling a bit of postpartum that lingered for a while. It came in the form of me being depressed about my body,” she explains. “So I made a rash decision. The intention was just to have them lifted, but I came out with these bigger boobs I didn’t want. I got the most botched boob job on the face of the planet. They’re worse now than they were before. I would never do anything like that again, but I’m an advocate of if something makes you happy, who cares about the judgment?”
Read the rest of the interview here. I think it's an interesting read for the most part: People Didn't Take Working Mom Ayesha CurrySeriously. They Should Have