Mama always told me that beauty was in the eyes of the beholder. That it is not as simple as a scale of one to ten, that it was much more complex than that. Beauty to one person can be something completely different to another. That one person can be a million others if looked at through different eyes. She even told me that through her eyes I was the most beautiful person she had ever met. Yet when I looked in the mirror through my own eyes it felt as if she was lying to me.
When I flipped through magazines and saw the lanky pale Models sometimes it crushed my spirits. Made me wish the melanin would drip off of my body and leave only bone. That all that would be left was the long straight-haired popular girls that Roamed the halls of my High school. She walks tall letting her lengthy blonde ponytail sway as she stepped. They never have a problem making friends. No one ever mistakes her personality and demeanor for having an attitude or being aggressive. No one ever calls her ghetto. When she looked through magazines she saw people who looked like her. EVERYONE found her beautiful, and that is where I question what my Dear Mama said.
Society decides what is beautiful. It has always, been on a scale of one to ten, and it might never change. I never see my face as I flip through magazines, and no one ever looks my way as I walk through the halls. Then again maybe Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, however, no one besides my dear Mama has ever found me beautiful.
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Black Never Seemed So Beautiful
Teen FictionBlack girls grow into black women without getting the representation they need. Many times this leads to self hatred and doubt. Growing as a young black teenager can be hard. This story walks through a black girl finding her way into loving herself...
