I’m officially deceased and idc what you guys do with my rotting corpse. Lauren is a freaking goddess like how the hell could people around her function properly? Camila is stronger than I thought lol.
I'm doing this because I'm so low right now that I can't pull myself out of it and I've pulled myself out of some shitty moods. I'm an Indian girl like you, n live in a pretty predominantly white Midwest neighborhood with my white bf. I'm feeling insanely ugly right now, hanging out with him and his bohemian bitch friends. I've just been rated the ugliest chick in the group bcuz I'm dark. I'm tired of not meeting anyone's standards and can't feel pretty at all. How do you get confidence?
Ok, my first concern is this: is your boyfriend WILLFULLY ignoring/supplementing the way you’re being scorned? Is he sitting there, watching with an expression of amusement or resignation, as you’re put down for your complexion by his friends? Has he been allowing this to happen on multiple accounts without a shred of remorse or guilt? If YES, then PLEASE REMOVE THAT HEAP OF TOXIC WASTE FROM YOUR LIFE. I’m not even kidding. I don’t care if his eyes shine like the Sea of Gibraltar or if his kisses feel like velvet. Eliminate his presence from your life. You should NEVER be in a romantic relationship with someone who permits others to tear you down.
All right, so now that we’ve discussed that. Ahem.
You’ve been rated “the ugliest chick” because you’re dark. Oh, girl, I so dearly wish I could be with you right now. I’d give you the biggest hug and a mug of hot chocolate (complete with little marshmallows and dash of caramel) because I am painfully aware of how much it hurts to hear something like that. I know what it’s like to stare in the mirror and just HATE the color of the reflection staring back at me. I know what it’s like to gaze at people and yearn for a miraculous complexion exchange, just so I could know what it feels like to be beautiful.
You know how I got over it? I made two lists about myself. I listed every damn thing I liked about my features, from the curls of my hair to the expressiveness of my eyes to the curve of my ass to the slimness of my ankles. And then, I made another list about every damn thing I liked about my persona, from the way I can make others feel good about themselves to the way I burst into song in public to the way I derive happiness from other people’s smiles to the way I can dance like a freaking goddess.
And you know what happened? I read and reread those lists late into the night and I realized that, “You know what? You know fucking what? I’m fucking COOL. I’m a stick of dynamite. I am a BAMF.“ Does it sound ridiculous? Does it sound conceited? GOOD. BECAUSE WHAT THE FUCK DO I CARE IF SOMEONE LAUGHS AT ME OR THINKS I’M A NARCISSIST. I JUST DISCOVERED EVERYTHING I NEED TO LOVE MYSELF. I DON’T GIVE A FLIPPING FLAPJACK IF YOU THINK I’M EGOTISTICAL. I AM NOT HERE TO CARE ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS AT THIS MOMENT.
I think of all Indian girls as my sisters, so sister, let me tell you something. You are beautiful. You are so incredibly, mind-blowingly, astoundingly, fiercely beautiful. You know what your boyfriend’s friends are?
Do me a favor. Go look in a mirror right now. Don’t scrutinize your hair or your skin or your figure or anything. Just look at yourself…and smile. Lovely, isn’t it? The way your teeth gleam and your cheeks stretch and eyes crinkle and mind relaxes? Start from that smile and work your way outward. You’ve already found one reason you’re stunning, so imagine how many more things you’ve been missing all this time. Who knows, your smile might be so lovely, you’ll make yourself blush!
You are beautiful and so special and unique and there should be no one on the PLANET who can rip you to shreds with their childish taunts. You are a WOMAN. You’re a vessel of love and life and strength and you, my sister…you’re telling me that you believe your SKIN dictates your sense of self? Take it from a dark-skinned woman who’s been through hell. You’re perfect. And to anyone who thinks otherwise: