I was never one of the pretty black girls with the pocket mirror and the cherry balm lipgloss. Secretly I wanted to gnaw at my skin until it was light enough just to sit at the popular table. To be honest envy wasn’t as much a stranger as confidence was and would visit me every night right before I clasped my hands and stared at the skies.
Yesterday, after slugging through the array of Netflix picks, I ignored the action junkie in my head and decided on the film with the black faces mingled as one ;“Dark Girls”. Usually I wouldn’t dare resurrect the insecurities barricaded with gallons of tears and unanswered pleas but I actualy wanted to watch it. I wanted to feel the possibility of my black feeling beautiful again.
30 minutes into the film disheveled 24 years of being brave and keeping my shit together when I saw my eyes in a 6 year old dark skinned beauty who was insistent that her skin needed to be lighter so she could be pretty. She explained that the lighter version of black is the better version. The version that is smarter and prettier. The version of black that isn’t too dark to be ugly.
It felt too familiar. The dullness in my chest wouldn’t stay away anymore and the mirrors suddenly needed to be smashed into so I wouldn’t feel ugly walking through my house. I didn’t like when I got to this place and it saddens me that little girls are still hiding in the bathrooms and their guidance counselor office because they don’t want to hear the words darkie or tar baby.
No, I’m not asking you to hand me a kleenex for my emotional journey but I need you to encourage beauty. Encourage your sisters to encourage their friends who will reach out to their sisters that beauty has everything to do with within.
The world outside shouldn’t validate how we should feel inside and I always try to remember that little girls feeling ugly grow up into women feeling ugly. Amidst my insecurities I’ve found a sense of peace. My gap tooth grin and my eczema have become a part of why I stay away from people with perfect teeth and dry climates. Point is, it’s easier to get over feeling ugly than to let it get under your skin.
My black is only as beautiful as I keep it. My skin can shine only as bright as I spit shine it. I dare love the skin I’m in like I dare admit my flaws.
I dare to love my skin.
Cheers,
TheDecader
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