Skin

I’m learning to love myself.

Think back to the beginning;

tiny, timid, 4 years old.

The first thing noticed is the skin

dirt on ivory-

brown, black they call it, but really brown.

No amount of scrubbing can make you lighter.

I'm doing this because I hate you.

Black, the opposite of white.

Dark, the opposite of light.

Bad, the opposite of good.

Not standard, not normal, just “other”.

No amount of scrubbing will change you.

Slightly bigger, more timid, 8 years old.

The first thing noticed is the hair.

Is that real? What’s a weave? Can I touch it?

I wasn’t aware I was a walking petting zoo.

Heat damages the hair when its constantly straightened.

Then, it’s the skin again.

Like mud; gross.

You don’t really look like Cinderella

Pocahontas maybe? She’s close enough.

No amount of scrubbing can make you beautiful:

black, brown, not fit for a princess.

No amount of scrubbing will change you.

And it continues

Not standard, not normal, “other”

The eyes, the nose, the hair, the skin

After years you learn to stop scrubbing.

Its process, slow and steady

Brown, not the opposite of white

It’s a process, slow and steady.

I'm doing this because I love you.

After years you learn to stop scrubbing.

Black, brown

Like earth tones interweaving

Earth. Healthy soil holds beautiful flowers.

Brown, beautiful I guess?

No longer tiny, no longer timid

The first thing noticed

I’m learning to love myself