Hi, EYD! Today's post is by our amazing writer Neharika Kodali. She tackles a difficult, but necessary topic - colorism - and discusses how her personal insecurities and experiences have helped her grow throughout the years. We hope you are able to relate to and enjoy this piece!
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I had a hard time coming to terms with the color of my skin. Ever since I was little, I’d be told to play in the shade and stay out of the sun as much as possible. I didn’t understand why, I just thought because it was hot outside. But every time I would come back in, my dad would point out how red and dark my skin got. I’d be told to come back inside early because I started to look too flushed and red. I’d be told to be careful, to not get too dark. My grandparents would point it out too.
When your family keeps pointing something out, something you can’t control, and looks at it as a problem, it starts to become an insecurity.
I was oblivious to colorism in our house, mostly because when I asked why, they would say, “It’s bad for your health!” How are you supposed to argue with that? The TV in our house would be playing “Fair and Lovely” ads (a popular skin whitening cream in India). The commercial would show before and afters. Those with darker skin would always look sad and those with fair skin looked like all their problems were solved with this one magical product. I even thought it was a facial cleanser because they would promote brighter and glowing skin. Regardless of what I thought it was, it was engrained into my head from a young age that being fair meant you’re beautiful. I would be out with my friends and sit out on so many things because I didn’t want to get “darker.
Although a majority of my friends were people of color, we all had an unspoken language. We all felt the same way about our skin.
It took me until 8th grade to finally fall in love with my skin. That’s 14 years of thinking that my skin color should’ve been lighter, thinking I was the odd one out and shouldn’t have the skin that I have.
That’s detrimental to a child’s mental health. One day, my friend and I went to the beach. I saw my legs and realized they were so much darker than they were before. I started panicking and my friend noticing, and her being the girl she is, said “What? It’s not even that bad, tanning is so good! I wish I could tan like that.” In my mind I wanted to punch her in the face. I wanted to punch her and say “What am I supposed to tell my mom?” as if I owed my mother an explanation. My friend told her about how I was panicking because of how dark my skin got and I was utterly shocked that she said that out loud. Sure I didn’t like my skin, but nobody else needed to know. I was embarrassed.
But it was that moment, that level of being uncomfortable, that forced me into realizing that maybe it’s not so bad after all.
I never talked about it with anyone and that was my first time verbalizing my thoughts. Going into high school, surrounded by people who are constantly willing to hype you up, accept you as you are, and celebrate diversity made a huge difference in my life.
Melanin was celebrated in ways I’ve never seen before. There’s all kinds of people surrounding you saying that melanin is a privilege. You think of all the lighter (mostly white) people that sit out in the sun for hours just to achieve something even close to what we have. They’re upset that they’re pale or too white. That’s still something I don’t understand. How can so many people tear themselves up and wish to have melanin in their skin, just to turn around and make fun of it it?
Skin color goes past colourism, but that’s another story. Celebrate your skin. This applies to absolutely everyone.
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