Diary of a dark skinned girl

The complexity of my complexion complexes my own mind.

I seem not to understand the importance of how light I should be

Or how long my hair should be to compensate for the lack of beauty.

It’s as if my dark skin was already a disadvantage but my short hair degraded my rock bottom level of beauty.

No one would ever say it to my face, their actions would whisper a million doubts onto me.

At least she still has her body.

Is that what my worth has reduced to? If my body changes, should I work to get it back because I have nothing else going for me? Multiple doubts circulated through my mind trying to make sense of the state of mind I was in.

I lost belief of the light within me because if it truly was in my favour then why would I be cursed with such skin?

Why would I be intentionally excluded from the beauty standard?

Why would all my efforts be in vain?

I tried drinking more water, staying out of the sun, bathed in bleach, moisturised with milk and here I still am. Darker than ever with short hair that confined me in a masculine box.

I sunk into the darkest space till it was subtly made clear to me that my complexion came with complexities far more complex than the tongue twister I just typed out.

I would always be pretty

For a dark skinned girl.