I was never ugly, I was just Black

My reflection didn’t change, only the way I look at myself.

Some essays don’t need to be rewritten, only reread. I wrote this piece last year, but it still holds me. This week, I wanted to return to it, not just to remember, but to honour the version of me who first put these words down. Maybe they’ll meet you where you are too.

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When the memories of my 15-year-old self resurface unexpectedly in the midst of a bustling day, I am reminded of the words of Toni Morrison, echoing from the pages of "The Bluest Eye," strike a chord within me, unravelling layers of introspection and revelation.

“You looked at them and wondered why they were so ugly; you looked closely and could not find the source. Then you realised that it came from conviction, their conviction. It was as though some all-knowing master had given each one a cloak of ugliness to wear, and they had accepted it without question… They had looked about themselves and saw nothing to contradict the statement; saw, in fact, support for it leaning at them from every billboard, every movie, every glance.”

"I was never ugly, I was just Black."

These words, laden with profound insight, encapsulate a truth that took me years to comprehend fully. Growing up, I found myself navigating a world where beauty was often narrowly defined, confined within the boundaries of Eurocentric standards.

In my youth, I internalised the pervasive messages surrounding me, messages that equated beauty with whiteness, perpetuating a narrative that marginalised those who looked like me.

Caught in the confines of whiteness, I grappled with a quiet sense of inferiority, a longing to belong to a world where you are liked, loved, and desired. In this paradoxical state, I convinced myself I was unattractive, believing that my perceived deviation from society’s norms rendered me undesirable.

With age and experience I came to understand that beauty transcends superficial appearances, it resides in the richness of one's heritage, the strength of one's character, and the authenticity of one's spirit. I realised that my Blackness was not a flaw to be concealed but a source of pride to be celebrated.

Today, as I reflect on the sentence "I was never ugly, I was just Black", I am filled with a profound sense of gratitude. Gratitude for the knowledge of utterly self acceptance, gratitude for the resilience that guided me through moments of uncertainty, and gratitude for God, showing me the eternal beauty He created in his own image.

And in this very truth, I find strength, grace, and an unwavering joy in embracing the beauty of being “Ugly”.