My complexion is too dark, too dark to be viewed as beautiful. He told me that the color of my skin is what makes me appealing, which then makes it a blessing. So I took some time for reflection, as I started to question myself... The blue eyed news reporter, the fair skinned cosmetic advertisement, the tall Scandinavian woman on the bus.. the lack of representation... what was it that they had, that I didn't... The words of my mother became the bullet I so desperately tried to dodge but couldn't ... "save yourself my child and paint yourself white" .. My beauty was not welcome in my own home. My skin I tried to peel off my body .. the diaspora reeked in my veins. My hair that I tried to straighten . My knees that I tried to hide with long socks. My body was tired of hiding. As a result I began to self hate at first grade, until it became the reason of my escape to a place of no return.