I was never loved when I was a kid,
Because of my skin tone.
It was light brown,
But people liked to judge by appearances.
They’d always look at me at school,
As if I were different,
Until I started believing it.

The feeling of rejection increased as a teenager.
My family played a role in that.
Especially my mother and siblings,
Because their skin tones were lighter than mine.
No one cared to ask how I was doing,
Or worry about me,
Which they have done at that age.
There’s also the things they used to tell me,
Such as that I’ll never get married,
“Who would want you?”
I started believing that.
I used to hear very hurtful things.
I reached a point,
Where I didn’t want to exist anymore.

When I got high grades in highschool,
They couldn’t believe it.
They couldn’t believe I’d go to a good college.
They didn’t think I deserved that even.
I didn’t feel any joy.
The comment I used to hear was:
“If only she were good-looking,
And she had normal hair (my hair was curly),
We would’ve been happy,
And celebrated.
But unfortunately, we can’t have everything.”
I hoped to die then and there.
I kept blaming God.
Why did you make me like this?
I was devastated,
And I thought a lot about committing suicide.

I grew up and got married before my older sister (I was the youngest, but not their favorite).
I married a man who truly loved and respected me.
He taught me so much.
He taught me that the value of a person is determined by their character.
May God protect him,
And protect our children.
I owe him a lot.

Yet I still sometimes remember my family’s words,
And the comments people used to tell me.
I cry and lose my self-confidence,
And feel that I don’t deserve my husband.
They weren’t on board with this marriage, by the way.
They didn’t understand why he wanted to marry me.