Do you think I’m pretty?
Wait – who am I even asking? And why do I even care?
In our society women’s perceptions of self are largely conditioned by the male gaze and whether our appearances satisfy their standards. This is a reality that I have convinced myself I’m not a victim of, but that was until I realised my own struggle with internalised racism stemming from Eurocentric beauty ideals.
After an underwhelming summer, I found myself down the rabbit hole of dating apps (The Dark Hole of Tinder and Hinge). It made me feel like I was just on a ‘hot or not’ iPhone game and that my appearance was the deciding factor in my success – not sure what I expected to be honest. When making my profile I kept having thoughts of: Am I enough? Does he fancy me? No. No, he couldn’t possibly! My hair isn’t blonde. And I’m not fair-skinned. Why am I even kidding myself?
It’s strange. I would never think that about anyone else. But I’m not everyone else, I don’t fit into those beauty ideals. And before I had even realised, I started to believe the myth – that I could not be attractive or desirable because I didn’t fit the trends.
When friends tried to suggest someone to me, I would immediately shoot myself in the foot and withdraw. Internalised racism made me believe that someone would never find me attractive. This was also linked with the fear that if they did find me attractive – Maybe it was just a racial fetish?
Growing up as a brown girl, I always subconsciously compared my appearance to that of my white peers. I would never really express to my friends if I fancied a guy, out of an irrational fear that I would be ridiculed for thinking or hoping that my crush would be reciprocated. Looking back, I think 2000s TV, film and even cosmetic advertising all perpetuated this narrative of Eurocentric beauty being the standard and anything else as sub-par.
I never saw someone that looked like me in the media or was the love interest in a film or tv show. The most representation was an archetype bullied nerd character with strict parents or a middle-aged sweet shop owner in a soap. I assumed that due to these stereotypical presentations in the media I would automatically be seen as unattractive and unwanted. Reading this back, I feel really sad that I used to feel this way/ still do feel this way to some extent.
Does it really matter what he thinks? How do I feel about myself? I think I look pretty! Do I even fancy him?!
Changing this internal narrative has been the key to repairing my relationship with my perception of myself and my outlook on dating and relationships. As a society, we still have a long way to go in undoing the damage of stereotypical beauty ideals. Beauty comes in all shapes, sizes, races, ethnicities, and genders and should not be dictated by white, cis men as it historically has been. I hope the media continues to diversify the people we see on TV and in magazines and extend this to other areas of our lives.
But whilst the damage is still being repaired, I might as well start by saying yes ‘I think I am pretty.’