My family specifically has always persistently been a great support system, pushing me to find my best self, and gain full confidence in who I am. Despite a great support system, I’ve had my struggles with self love and self esteem as most of you can probably relate. As I reflect on the many things I am grateful for, I also want to acknowledge how far I have come in my journey in self acceptance.
I grew up in a predominately white area, where I was one of the very few black kids within my school and even more of a rarity within my classes. The setting was place where negative notions on skin color and identity, were first introduced, and now that I reflect on it had a large impact on shaping who I am. As I look back on my childhood, I find it unbelievable that I allowed others to make a mockery of my blackness. Both kids and adults both knowingly and unintentionally made me feel like my skin and ethnic identity was an issue. If you haven’t guessed by now I am black girl (Nigerian American) with a dark complexion. To other girls I was not pretty. My hair was not long, it was not straight, and coiled up at the slightest sight of moister. It was no secret that my skin was not pale like the other girls, and I did not at this time recognized that my melanin was actually a blessing. I asked myself, “why am I so dark” or pondered about ways to alter my complexion. I remember commenting to my mother that I was too dark and I wanted to look for a way to make my skin lighter. I used to put perms in my hair in an attempt to make my hair straight, like the other girls. I didn’t appreciate myself fully. I didn’t love myself fully. My academic surrounding had a greater weight than my loving family. And I consistently carried the weight of false happiness, when I truly wasn’t. Entering high school, there was the issue being “black” enough. I was soft spoken and shy, which came off negatively to the kids who looked like me. There was constant push to fit into a category, or identify myself as something specific in order to be “good enough”. So not only was I struggling with being a black female with a dark complexion, but also with peoples perception of what I should be. All of these things hindered me from growing into a confident young woman. Being a female “light skin is the best skin”, was term I heard a lot. No one would be interested in you if you were too dark because who wants a dark skinned child? Who wants a nappy-headed child? It gets so bad that even people in my own race will turn their backs because they don’t like something that I couldn’t control. My dark skin wasn’t attractive to others. My hair wasn’t attractive to others. And no matter how hard I tried, no matter how hard I wished that I wasn’t this was, I couldn’t change it. At the end of the day, I cannot change who I am and that was the hardest thing to accept. I wish I had told people that I am proud of my dark skin. I wish I had told people that I am not “acting white”, but am carrying myself in way that would make my parents proud. I wish I had told people that being Nigerian did not make me any less exposed to the ignorant comments of being Black in America. I wish I had told people that my hair isn’t ugly and too nappy, but actually a blessing. All of these things are blessings and I never recognized that until I came to college, even then, I still struggled with it. I am now proclaiming that I am a beautiful Nigerian American Dark Skinned Female. I will not apologize for being Nigerian. I will not apologize for being a Female. I will not apologize for being nappy-headed. I will not apologize for being Dark Skin. I will not apologize because I’ve been blessed. My melanin skin is a blessing. My hair is a blessing. My body is a blessing. So I will no longer apologize for whom I am, but love myself because I have been blessed and for that I am grateful. |
