Edited By: Kavya Gupta
In a world that holds fair complexions to an absurdly high standard, the writer attempts to appreciate the intrinsic beauty of being a dark-skinned girl. From being bullied and shamed, to self-acceptance, this article is a humble endeavour towards a more affectionate way of perceiving our body and skin.
‘Kali’ (meaning dark in Hindi), dark chocolate, black forest, and crow were a few of many nicknames given to me, referring to my dark skin tone. Many-a-times, I wish I had spoken up against these remarks on my color, for I would always laugh it off to be in the good books of my friends. As a seventh-grader who was having trouble identifying herself, busy trying to be the famous gal of the grade, I often tried to ignore such comments.
The fear of not being liked by my friends if I stood up for myself or being mocked for doing so had always held me back from correcting them and telling them how I felt when they commented on my skin. It took almost three years of constant teasing and insulting to make me feel comfortable in my skin. I have such terrible memories of my classmates taunting me. Once, I was standing in front of the blackboard of my classroom, when a classmate shouted, “Oh! I can’t see Ahana. The only thing I can see is her uniform. Where did she go?”. The whole class burst into laughter. To ease off the moment, I laughed along.
I have always wondered why people had a problem with my skin. I didn’t understand why they ridiculed my skin tone. My parents didn’t mind it. But when you try to fit in with people who are supposedly the people who make you look ‘cool’ and are expected to behave in a certain manner to befriend them, you tend to neglect the opinions of those who matter. I did the same. Throughout my seventh and eighth grade, I despised the way my skin appeared to be. I believed that being ‘fair’ meant gaining recognition and happiness. In the ninth grade, a boy once said to me, “Wow, your skin must be producing so much melanin!”. To be honest, to date, I fail to understand whether he intended for it to be a compliment or an insult. Despite the past incident I’ve witnessed, I would love to believe that it was a compliment. A hearty one. I have had quite a tough time accepting my skin tone. My beautiful, brown, glowing skin. I spent so much time pointing out the flaws of my skin color, that I completely ignored the way it gleams in the evenings. I completely ignored the charm with which it merges with the soil after heavy rains. I completely ignored the flattering compliments my loved ones gave.
Even today, our society frowns upon dark-skinned individuals and suggests a trillion ways to make them look ‘better’. “Apply turmeric, mix these ingredients for a lovely skin texture”, they say. The commercial industry is also seriously responsible for this brainwashing. Thanks to their publicity, fairness creams are an obsession. Dark skin is seen as an unhealthy and dull complexion. As a part of a project I recently participated in, we asked a few girls from rural areas to point out the skin shade they thought they were. Then, we asked them to choose the shade they wished to have. Almost all the girls chose lighter complexions because they were under the impression that fairness is a standard of beauty that determines your worth.
I don’t know how we can reach the grassroots of this issue, but we must stop this form of self-sabotage done by countless young individuals to themselves, one of them being me. Writing this article brought up many emotions and feelings. I have always been possessive and quiet about issues regarding the body, appearance, etc. I feel vulnerable after opening up about these incidents. I sincerely hope that I could help you understand the world of a brown girl living in a ‘fairness obsessed’ society. Before I sign off, I quote Beyoncé,
“Brown skin girl, Your skin just like pearls, The best thing in the world.”