For the longest time, I was aversed to engaging with TikTok. I refused to believe that it would bring any benefit to my life, and believed it was an app that was simply made for an age group younger than mine. I was used to my social media feed being predominantly “whitewashed.” The most popular influencers and celebrities I saw growing up were Caucasian, and the few that weren’t still didn’t look like me. I grew comfortable with the knowledge that I wouldn’t have many people in the spotlight who I felt attached to in that way. However, as I scrolled through my TikTok feed and the algorithm slowly changed to match my preferences, I was surprised to find how accurate and curated my feed became.
Suddenly, I was only seeing beautiful Brown men and women sharing their cultures, sharing funny anecdotes of growing up South-Asian outside of South Asia and learning to accept themselves. Seeing these faces talk about issues I felt so close to made me uncomfortable at first. I had gotten so acquainted with turning to Bollywood to feel close to my culture, that it was almost confusing to see it so casually in Western media. I wasn’t used to it and didn’t know what to make of it — until I accepted it as my own. Now, my “for you” page is filled with people who look like me, dancing to mashups of songs I know and I see them slowly get the recognition they’ve always deserved. As a viewer, it feels amazing.
I was apprehensive to share this at first; it almost felt silly to say that a social media app designed to feed you 15 second to 3-minute videos can change your perspective as much as it did mine — but not anymore. I feel proud to come from such a rich and diverse culture. I didn’t realize how much I craved seeing people who looked like me on the internet before I finally got to see them. People of all shapes and sizes share content not just about their culture, but about fashion, sports, food, skincare, and lifestyles. It feels like our own secret space where these influencers share their makeup recommendations for brown skin, recipes their parents made growing up, traditions they carried out with their siblings, and their fashion hacks. It made me realize, that while watching traditional media can be fun, representation is so much more important than I realized. Not every single video that these influencers upload have some sort of cultural relevance. In fact, a lot of them don’t — they’re simply sharing their life, but that’s the beauty of it. Seeing them made me embrace myself in a way I didn’t know was possible.
Following most of these people for almost a year now, I’m so happy to have made an account and joined the platform. Without it, I wouldn’t have realized how beautiful and wonderful my own culture was, and how good it feels to see people who look like me get millions of views and likes. While those numbers don’t mean everything, coming from someone who grew up getting bullied for the color of their skin, it can do wonders. It made me feel pretty, it made me feel seen and it made me feel represented, and I’m so grateful that the teenagers growing up now get to experience this. They no longer have to look up to only one model, or celebrity, or influencer. They have people of different colors, shapes, and experiences with which they can relate and feel close. While everyone is on a different “side” of TikTok, I’m so happy to be on mine, and as you scroll through, I hope that your “for you” pages are bringing you as much joy as mine is bringing me.
My (current) Favorite List of Brown Influencers (this is in no particular order, but these women have made me laugh, smile, and feel beautiful in my own skin more time than I can count, and I hope they make you feel that too):
- @fatherchristmas1283
- @peoplewithoutcolor
- @maaltoks
- @mina.aaa1
- @cardamom.counselling
- @badgalriyriy
- @rootedinspice
- @by.janani
- @milan.matthew
- @just.jully
- @anjalichakra