Forget the beauty standards: be yourself!
Self-love. It’s summer and I’m not tanned. There is no perimeter of tanned skin on my body. Not that I love being white. I love sun-kissed skins. But mine is white. And if it is true that this year I haven’t gone a lot to the beach yet, it is also true that even if I was soaking up the sun for 10 hours, I would never get my face tanned. And, you may think, how do I know this? Because I’ve tried it out when I was a teenage girl who was a bit inconsequential and wanted to be tanned. The brown skin was fashionable and I wanted it, too. So, after auto-tanning, tanning oils and lots of suns, my skin turned orange. On my body. Because on my face I was only lightly golden. And at the time I was happy that way. But today? Well, maybe today it would be different.
At the end of the day, no effort will make any difference if we are not at peace with the reflection that the mirror gives us back.
The truth is that, 13 years later, I would never compromise my skin and, ultimately, my health, to get darker. Because yes, it’s nice to be tanned (especially the skins that are naturally dark, and there are some absolutely divine), but if the price to pay is aging skin or skin cancer, I’m out. Even if I was an irresponsible teenager I turned a responsible adult.
Of course, this does not mean that I will not soak by the sun. I will but in the hours when there’s no danger. Or that I’ll not try a self-tanner (it’s been more than a decade since I’ve used one, but lately I’ve found myself wanting to try it again). I mean, all I want you to know is those beauty standards are relative, and so we must adapt to ours. Meaning, I accept myself as I am: white.
And this is the best we can do for ourselves: accept ourselves. This does not mean, of course, that we should not strive to be the best version of ourselves. Everything is good to feel good about ourselves as long as it does not compromise our health. But, at the end of the day, no effort will make any difference if we are not at peace with the reflection that the mirror gives us back. It took me years to realize this. I hope to spare you time.