The Secret Life of a Light-Skinned African-American Girl
This post was originally published on MyBlackMatters. I was bangla srxy xxx told I was black. I was black, but not quite black enough or not black black but still black to say black least.
I was told that in my life, I would have certain privileges. Privileges that darker women would not be able to acquire and I should be grateful for that. I girls be happy that I would be more desired for receptionist jobs and I should be overjoyed that naker a white boy happened to like me, I would be eligible for a seat at family dinner because I'm not black black, remember?
I should appreciate the automatic assumptions that I am foreign, that if I have a weave it is my real hair, and that I'm way too narcissistic to give most boys the time of day. I should never ever complain about my skin because real black girls go through things every day that I will never be able to relate to.
I understand that my skin has privileged me black some ways. No, I was never bullied or called 'burnt', or compared to a monkey or a roach. I naker never told by a boy that he didn't like me because of my skin color. But, being told by people that I wasn't black or I wasn't black enough girls a different toll on me.