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thread of how colorism has affected my life because I& #39;m emotional and angry: 1/
age 7-8: my first memory of noticing that my skin color was different. we were making self-portraits out of construction paper. I remember being conscious that everyone else had peach colored paper and I had to get a different shade. sounds dumb, but I was jealous. 2/
age 10: my beloved caretaker in India –almost my second mother– has very dark skin, as is typical with many Indians. she used to use lightening creams all the time because she was worried that she wouldn& #39;t get married because of her skin color. I& #39;m sure she still uses them. 3/
age 11: one of the first times I can remember using "fair and lovely", the leading lightening cream in India. I looked at their packaging, and I genuinely thought I would become lighter and "happier", like the lady on the tube. my face stung, reacting badly, but I kept it on. 4/
age 13: I was so desperate to be unique that I sold myself the idea that my eyes were unique, secretly pleased when aunties told me how light they were. I was a fool, entranced by western beauty. I still hated myself for having brown eyes despite this "unique" mindset. 5/
age 15: my mom told me I was so pretty and I refused to believe it, telling her bitterly that she was wrong, and that she was prettier simply because her skin was a few shades lighter than mine. (now I know she& #39;s prettier bc she& #39;s my mom, fax no printer) 6/
age 16: I realized the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen were those that belonged to a close friend– dark, dark brown, sometimes indistinguishable from the pupil. I thought about how many times I had complained about not having my dad& #39;s blue-green eyes. I was ashamed. 7/
age 17: a beloved relative of mine passed away in India. whilst attending her janazah (a muslim funeral), I met one of my older relatives for the first time. she took one look at me and said "you& #39;re too dark" in front of my entire family. we were three feet from the corpse. 8/
age 17: my aforementioned caretaker got married and had a child. I met her beautiful daughter the last time I visited India. with tears in her eyes, she told me "I& #39;m just so glad she turned out light." my heart sank to my stomach. 9/
my experience lasts beyond these fleeting experiences. the color of my skin and eyes has shaped how I perceive the world and how I see myself. I have grown with colorism, and that scares me. I acknowledge that I have the privilege of having light eyes and medium brown skin. 10/
these features can be seen as begrudgingly acceptable, because they have some sort of western aesthetic appeal. I reject this notion. even what isn& #39;t necessarily acceptable should be revered just as much, and this can go beyond color. 11/
I appreciate all brown and black skin, but I want to see the dark that the western world is so afraid of. I want to see indistinguishable irises, I want to see deep brown and black skin. I want to see it everywhere, beautiful and out there for the world to see, unaltered. 12/
brown is beautiful. dark brown is gorgeous. black is stunning. we don& #39;t have to conform to western standards of beauty if we don& #39;t want to– we are incredible without blue, green, white, or lightness. dark skin, eyes, and people are exquisite, even if the world disagrees. 13/13
ps: fair and lovely, you can perish.
