white society brown mentality
Beautiful. When you read this word what do you see? A loved one, an object, a place? As a kid, I imagined a girl with fair skin.
On summer breaks, my mother would advise me to wear long-sleeve shirts and pants to shield my skin from the sun. However, as an Indian growing up in America, I heard my friends feel embarrassed about their pasty white skin. They would wish to be naturally tan, and always mentioned how lucky I was to have tan, beautiful skin.
I did not understand the complexity of skin. It bothered me to hear my friends say one thing, while my mother said quite the opposite. Should I listen and agree with my mom when she tells me to wear long-sleeve shirts when it is 80 degrees outside? Or, should I side with my friends and embrace my tanner skin color and be happy that I am not pasty white?
The short answer is no. Deep down, I did not have an opinion of my own. I did not even care about my skin until I was made aware of what others thought about it. I let my thoughts about skin color and beauty reside with my mother and my friends. As I got older, I came to the decision that I wanted to have fairer skin. I conformed to Indian standards, although I live in America. I chose to align with the beauty standards of my own culture because it better represented my idea of beauty.
What a tragic way to think.
That decision led me to do all kinds of bullshit. I was determined to change my skin color and become beautiful one summer. I never had the confidence to wear short and sleeveless tops because it showed off my discolored knees and darker underarms. I blamed it on my skin type and created a plan to “glow up” for the next school year.
I tried to naturally lighten my skin with lemon juice and bought skin lightening products, like Fair and Lovely. I created masks with turmeric powder that would burn my skin. I suffered to have beautiful skin. By the end of the summer, nothing had changed. I tried to wear shorts on the first day of school and had constant anxiety that everyone was staring at my discolored knees. I did not wear shorts for a very long time after that.
A lot of the anxiety I felt came from thinking about how my peers would look at me. I went to a predominantly white school, which meant that I was one of the few kids who had darker skin. Since white skin type was the norm, I felt that my peers would judge my darker skin because they did not have exposure to my skin color.
The anxiety that I had as a child continued throughout high school. I only wore clothes that allowed me to blend in with the public. I wore nothing jarring or anything that would bring attention to me.
Today, I am writing as a 20-year-old in college. So many things have changed.
In college, I met a lot of people who are Indian. As I started to make a whole new friend group, I realized that many of my insecurities are normal. I realized that many Indian girls have discoloration on many parts of their bodies. Many of those girls embrace their skin and wear whatever it is that they want to. Their skin is not holding them back.
So I thought to myself, why am I holding myself back? I lived for 18 years in shame of my skin. I was trying to change features about me that would never change. My perception of beauty was heavily distorted. It took me to meet people from my community to realize that all of my insecurities are irrational.
I started to change the way that I think. I began to care less and less about what others would think. I let go of all the restrictions I had in my mind and allowed myself to wear whatever I wanted. It was hard in the beginning, but I got the hang of it very quickly. It was one of the most liberating moments of my life.
Many girls and boys, just like me, form insecurities and vulnerabilities at a young age. It can be challenging to navigate between different cultural standards, and this can often lead to culture clashes. I have learned that sometimes it is okay to let go of beliefs that you grew up hearing about. Sometimes, the right exposure can change the way you see something, and in my case, it allowed me to love my true self.
