Mental Health

my self-image story

When I was a teenager, I thought I had to look like this–because looking like this equated to beauty, perfection, and success.

Photo by Laura Chouette on Unsplash

My high school years were doused in the obsession with British YouTubers, like Zoe Sugg and Niomi Smart who seemed to have it all together–proper businesswomen in blazers and a full face of makeup. While I was watching their seemingly-perfect lives, I was hating myself for not looking like them.

My skin is not porcealian like theirs. I’m African-American with Native American descendants, so I certainly don’t look like them. My hair isn’t silky smooth, tamed by products catered for those with their hair type. Clothing from high end brands just seemed unrealistic and unaffordable to wear through the hallways of high school. They always seemed to find their perfect shade of foundation, boasting about how Tarte’s Shape-Tape foundation was perfect for them, while people of color struggled to find a shade that wasn’t an ashy orange.

I forced myself to change, trying to fit their mold. I would browse the racks of Forever 21 in attempt to find something close to Zoella’s cozy knit sweaters or floral rompers, when my comfortable style consisted of graphic tees and jeans. I forced myself to spend more time on pounding a beauty blender into my skin, rather than on my mental health. I forced myself to become more feminine, not only to be like them, but to seek apporoval from everyone else.

Because the British YouTubers had such a success back in the early 2010s, venturing off on sponsored trips to Dubai or receiving free makeup kits from the brands us non-YouTubers poured our money into, it placed me in a mindset that the only way to even feel an ounce of happiness (or obtain an ounce of their riches) was to act like them. Only recently have POC YouTubers spoken out about the unfairness creators of color experience, particularly on trips sponsored by brands that are claiming to cater to anyone of any race.

Like, Dote. You’ve heard this story quite a few times, but that doesn’t make what Danielle Perkins had to go through any less valid. Below is what it is like to experience racial privlege in a social setting. It’s important to understand that this is not a fun situation to be in. I’ve experienced this first- hand through many of my school years. Honestly, it was pretty triggering watching this video because it was hauntingly familiar.

Now, things are starting to shift different. With more POC females being represented in mainstream media, such as Halle Bailey being casted as Ariel, there’s less pressure to try and look like someone you’re not. Instead, there’s more of an embrace to be someone that you are.

I would like to create a skin-confident version of this post about how having psoriasis affected my self-image. Let me know if that’s something you’d like to see.

Love always,

-TPC

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