Earlier this week, I woke up to images of a glowing pregnant barely covered Serena Williams gracing the cover of Vanity Fair on my Instagram feed. There is no specific word or words I could muster up, to adequately express about how I felt about the images as I sped read the cover story while enjoy my morning lazing. My emotional state was a crossover somewhere between feeling proud and satisfied and the urge to be more unapologetic about my raw beauty.
I don’t care for sports, if I were asked about Serena’s accomplishments, I’d have to spend an entire day on Google trying to get my story about her straight and I probably still wouldn’t get it right.
Before I get into why this cover is so significant, let me say that
