Black Is Beautiful

When I looked in the mirror today, after my shower, after I put a favorite dress on just because, I was stunned. In the mirror, in the horrid bathroom lighting, my dark brown skin seemed to glow in all its shades of red and brown. I was mesmerized. I was beautiful.

Unfortunately this is not a 24hr experience for other black women, hell, this is not an experience I have too often. It should be though, right? My sister, my mother, my family, my friends, perfect strangers, should be able to look at their black skin and smile wide because damn, we are hot. And we are? Really, we are. Not that you’d know it, living as we do in a society that has elevated certain features not our own, certain skin not our own, certain hair not our own.

Really, we are.

So, you must have seen it by now.

That post by Psychology Today, that shall not be linked in this blog, claiming to have statistical proof on why black women aren’t attractive. I have been debating whether or not to respond because I really do not feel I have to justify my skin to anyone.

Unfortunately, I live in a world that makes justifying my skin a necessary, everyday thing.

[ETA: Apparently, PT took it down (which I don’t think is fair because they shouldn’t get to act like this never happened). However, the interwebs are always prepared for this eventuality. Here’s a link to a Scribd screencap of the article because I won’t be linking PT even if they repost it.]


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