Freshman year of college. My roommate and I were watching a movie. A commercial cuts through it.
It was a shampoo commercial that depicted fair women with long, straight hair, the narrator describing how beautiful their hair had become with the work of the shampoo and how beautiful the women were.
Those women were the complete opposite of me. A stab to my self-esteem.
I sighed and looked over to my roommate, a medium-complexioned girl with clear skin and loose curls. "Tara?"
"Yes?" She answered, not lifting her head from her phone.
"Wouldn't I look better if I were white?"
She looked up at me with meteoric speed. "God, no." With no hesitation.
"Bu-"
"Darling, no. Oh my god. Why the hell would you say that? You're smoking hot. You look beautiful the way you are, babe. What are you going on about?"
"Sorry."
"Don't be sorry. Be confident."
That was the first time I'd heard someone who didn't show blatant opposition to my complexion. Tara told me the reason I was feeling this way is that society doesn't praise people with dark skin. In fact, it's the opposite. Society degrades, berates, and humiliates people with dark complexions and it's so deeply ingrained that people with fairer skin are seen as the default. Also, a lack of representation in the media comes into play.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," I told her.
"Which part?"
"You said that fairer complected people are seen as a default. What do you mean that?"
"An example," she began, "Think of every fiction book you've read that didn't have a set of specific details describing the appearance of the main character or any character for that matter. Without anything to describe their appearance, most would assume that the character was white," she explained. I thought about what she said and realized that she was right.
She explained how we often consciously, but more often subconsciously identify negative attributes with darker skinned people and positive attributes with those who are lighter complected. After that, I thought of everything that has ever been said to make me think that my skin tone was inferior.
"Don't stay out in the sun too long. You'll get too dark."
"Just imagine if she were light skinned."
"Only light skinned girls can pull off that hair color. You should stick to darker colors."
"It's always the darkskins with an attitude."
"I'm already black. I don't date dark skinned girls. I only date white girls and yellowbones."
"You nappy headed ass black ass bitch."
"Damn, where did Mya go?"
"She dark as shit. I can't see her."
"That black bitch blends right in with the dark."
I began to feel overwhelmed, rushing out of the room and into the bathroom. I looked in the mirror and had a heart-to-heart with myself. I looked myself in the eye and took a deep, but shaky breath. I wanted to cry, not for sadness. But also not for joy.
I began to feel frustrated with myself. "Why the hell do you have to believe what others say?" I asked my reflection. A tear. "They're in the wrong, not you. Your skin isn't an error. You shouldn't have to feel insecure about something you can't help." A pang of self-realization submerged over me coating every inch and every corner of the skin that stuck to my body like stripes on a zebra.
