Ever since I was little,
I’ve been underweight,
And I’m not tall.
I’ve always gotten criticism from everyone around me:
“Why do you look like that? Who eats your food?”
“You need to fatten up a bit, my dear. Otherwise, you’ll be an old maid,
And nobody will look at you.”

I was born with a birthmark on a specific part of my body.
It’s darker than the rest of my skin and bigger.
It’s made me avoid looking at my reflection in the mirror,
And I can’t wear the dresses I want to.

I hear comments like:
“Okay, leave it how it is in the back, but straighten your bangs because your hair looks frizzy in the front.”
No one understands that part of the reason why I’m okay with how I look comes from leaving my hair as it is.
body image, bullying, hair, beauty standards

I used to braid my kinky hair in school.
It was a bit poofy at the top.
The girls at school would pull my hair and undo my braid.
My hair would get frizzy and I wouldn’t know how to tie it.
The teachers would yell at me to tie my hair.
body image, hair, beauty standards, bullying

I’ve never known what it’s like to feel beautiful.
Every day I am reminded that I am fat,
That my "messy” hair looks bad,
And that I have a weird face.
My own mother tells me daily that I should lose weight.

Some people at university would compliment my skin tone and ask me,
“How do you get so tan?”
I would tell them that it wasn’t a tan.
It was my skin color.
I thought they were making fun of me,
And that something was wrong with me.

I hate how I look.
I’m the shortest one in the family.
I have very wide eyes,
And I am dark-skinned.

My mother only likes straight hair.
She’d always straighten our hair, using various gels and keratin.
She wanted to straighten it in any way possible.
hair, bullying, beauty standards, body image

I hate you.
I hate everything about you.
Your skin tone, your size, all your little details.

Trust me when I say that I’ve tried to accept you so many times, but I just can’t.
I can’t keep fooling myself.
body image, body shaming, beauty standards, harassment

Brushing my hair as a child was a real burden to me.
My mother would pull it really hard when she brushed it.
It was as if she was punishing me for having “bad” hair.
Combing it was a difficult process.
“Your hair is disgusting. I’m sick of it,” she used to tell me.
She used to push me away if I cried because it hurt, saying,
“Get up. I won’t brush it for you.”
body image, hair, beauty standards, bullying