The brighter side of 'dark'ness
I am Indian-American. An almost inescapable implication of Indian-ness (especially female Indian-ness) is that some other Indian person, at some point in your life, has commented on your skin color. Either "oh look how beautifully fair you are or "you look dark and thin. haven't you been eating/ sleeping/ taking care of your skin...and where on earth will you find a husband?!!"
In my case, as it is for millions of other Indian girls I'm sure, I was reminded of my darkness (and therefore, ugliness) by not just one but numerous relatives, family 'friends', and ultimately, parents of men looking for wives. It started with my maternal grandmother, a very beautiful and intelligent woman by any standard. Especially since she had white skin, and so did all of her children. Who were all (and still are at age 60+) very good looking. So you can imagine her shock and horror when (after she had married her daughter off to a dark-skinned man), the baby that resulted from the union (i.e. me), had predominantly her dad's non-white genes. Which meant she spent the next 18 years (plus a few more here and there) trying desperately to rid me of what were essentially my non-Aryan characteristics - frizzy thick hair, brown skin, and somewhat un-Caucasian figure. "You need to figure out how to tame your hair!" she would admonish. "OMG, you need to lose those hips!". And this was when I weighed barely 100 lbs. I am 5'4".
What my grandma started, others most ably supported and indeed, took to a higher level. My paternal grandfather (who was born in the first decade of the 20th century), was decidedly NOT fair. And yet, the first statement out of his mouth every time he'd see me: "How'd you get so dark?" (ummmm...did you look at yourself in the mirror, grandpa?). Over the remainder of the time until I was of 'marriageable' age, various other relatives fanned the flames. They shall remain unnamed.
The negative end-result of all this was to convince me, deep down, that I really wasn't worth much in the 'looks' and image' department.
Fast forward 15 or so years. We're at a family get-together, sharing laughs, and I hear myself unable to resist making digs (albeit humorous ones) at my late grandma. Afterwards, I am a little guilty and a little disappointed in myself, because I don't like to think of myself as angry and bitter over something that no longer has any impact on my life. Also, I really did love and respect my grandma. She was one strong woman.
So I started thinking, is there an upside to all of those negative messages I heard growing up? Don't get me wrong - it is absolutely unacceptable to discriminate on ANY basis. But had I gained some latent benefit from having had to cope with such bias?
The answer, after much reflection, was a resounding "yes". Here's why:
I knew my looks wouldn't get me anywhere, so decided my brain and hard work would have to. And I believe they did. at least as much as I hoped for.
I assumed (wrongly), that I wouldn't find a husband, so decided I'd need to take care of myself. And I learned to be independent.
I didn't spend hours obsessing over makeup, hair styling, and outfits. There is nothing wrong with doing that, just that I didn't do it. Instead, I spent my time reading voraciously about current affairs, economics, business, spirituality, anything interesting I could get my hands on. As a result, I have a variety of different interests which make my life fuller and breaking the ice with strangers, much easier!
I was especially lucky that because my mom and dad never felt the need to compete with others, they never compared me (favorably or unfavorably) with their nieces and nephews. How freeing not to have to deal with petty politics and sibling rivalry!
I was freed from being overly vain (though I'm not completely free of vanity), and so I could look outward more than inward. And maybe this helped me gain compassion towards others. Not enough, yet, but I'm getting there.
All in all, I am grateful for having been 'dark' and less than perfect.
Ironically, I recently had another woman look daggers at me when I was dressed up for an event. She openly scowled with what was obviously envy. 'Dark' and 'unattractive' me was hardly prepared for something like that. It was another woman who, undoubtedly, must have heard the same negative messages growing up, but was still burdened with that baggage well into her thirties. Thank goodness my burden is lighter now, because I might have been a little like that when I was a teenager. I hope her baggage lightens as well. Life is too short to carry that stuff around.
In another ironic twist of fate, one of the physical attributes my grandma tried most to change about me is the same one my husband finds the most attractive :-)
