I hate how I look.
I’m the shortest one in the family.
I have very wide eyes,
And I am dark-skinned.
My skin is darker than anyone else’s in my family.
There was a period in my life,
where I used to wear a lot of makeup,
To try to not be noticeable among people if I went out.
There’s this famous saying:
“A person who’s beautiful, is beautiful even when they’ve just woken up,
And a person who’s ugly, is ugly even if they wash their face every day.”
Ever since I was born,
Mama would say that I belong to the ugly side of the family,
And that I protect them against the evil eye.
I wanted them to see me for who I am,
And not judge me for how I look on the outside.
I know I’m ugly and short,
But they’re my family.
They’re supposed to love me,
And not judge me based on the way I look.