There’s the difficulty we felt in trying to recognize our own beauty.
For me, it started young.
When I was 11 years-old, I looked up “beautiful woman,” on the internet.
Page after page, I saw the same womenand no one who looked like me.
They were not made for me.
I walked away from my computer knowing the innocence to my search was lost.
But I grew stronger and trained my eyes to believe the truth beneath the surface.
That picture, now crooked and collecting dust, was hiding the hideous truths created by racism.
This deeply-rooted hatred grew and gained power because it was rarely addressed.
The world is beginning to see it now, but Ive found anti-Blackness in rooms andon shelvesmy entire life.
The language and qualifications we use to define beauty leave so many people out of the conversation.
Being Black is not a burden.
Beauty is not a monolith.
We are often left in a familiar positionone that is unprotected.
Systemic racism has tangled itself in our navigation through the beauty industry.
It is in the way we test ten foundations before finding one that fits.
It shows innatural haircare products produced by companies that do not honor our textures.
It is tone-policing when we question the norm.
These are topical resolutions to hold us over before realizing it’s not what we asked for.
It stings to see brands feign for “wokeness” like it’s a summer trend.
Black women have spoken, passing down affirmations and strengths to the next Black girl who needs it.
Being Black is not a burden.
Beauty is not a monolith.
It is not silentit acts.
Today, I am hopeful we will shatter those ideals together.
I acknowledge the strides that have been made fromIMAN Cosmetics to Fenty.
Non-Black people, I challenge you to be anally as a verb, not a noun.
The reanalysis of beauty will not end here.
It is not silentit acts.
Real beauty inspires you to take a second look and peer closer.
