When I was a little girl, I was sent to the counselor’s office because I told my teacher I wanted to be white.
They called my mother to the school, and I had to start going to counseling. You see, I grew up in a small town surrounded by kids who didn’t look like me. So I wished I looked like them. I don’t know if what led me to want to be white is all gone or not, but I know that I’m beautiful; and that I can’t imagine myself being anyone else.
I had a hard time fitting in growing up.
My family and my cousins were great, but they grew up in a predominantly black school. So when we played together, I felt like I had to mimic the way they talked and acted, trying to fit in. I was pretending with one group and hoping to be accepted by another.
I was a mess.
But I thank God that I’m exactly who I’m supposed to be. I love my skin color. I love the way I talk, “white, apparently.” I love my mom. I love my family.
And I also love my God; who made an array of beautifully colored folks from one end of the spectrum to the other. We are all made in God’s image.
We are a representation of how complex, unique and fascinating He is. The human race; so wildly different yet the same.
I assume most little girls struggle with self acceptance for some reason or another.
So I coped by becoming a people pleaser.
I was always accommodating and ready with a smile. I laughed too hard at jokes and agreed too easily with other people’s opinions. Actually, I still do this.
Then when people would get too close, I pushed them away because I was afraid they’d find out who I really was.
A little boring. A little plain. A little simple.
But God is faithfully transforming me as I continue to abide in Him. He always surprises me. And the more I let Him lead my life, the more I see Him lead me out of my issues.
You know, I actually used to be a class clown.
But I shut down when I got older and settled into my role as the shy, quiet girl. I wasn’t shy and quiet, I just lost my confidence.
And I even forgot how to tell a joke!
To this day I still fumble over my words trying to repeat a joke, and then I wind up ruining it.
My sister shocked me the other day by laughing at a funny story I told her:
There was a group of middle school girls who would put on lipstick and then “kiss” the mirrors in the school bathrooms before class. Well, at first it was only a few girls, but pretty soon it became a problem all over the school, making more work for the janitor.
So one day the school decided to hold an assembly and invite the girls to the bathroom to show them how long it takes to clean the lipstick off of the mirrors.
After they gathered in the bathroom, the principal said, ‘Ok Mr. Janitor (I forgot his name), show the girls how long it takes for you to clean the bathroom mirrors.’
Well, the janitor then turned around, dipped his squeegee into the toilet behind him, and began to clean off the bathroom mirror. As all the girls watched in horror…
Needless to say, that school never had an issue with lipstick on the mirrors again!
My sister laughed so hard!
Know that God accepts you.
And God accepts me. More than that, He carefully formed me in my mother’s womb. My 4b hair, my skin, my smile and my frame, were all carefully imagined and formed by God. He took delight in creating me. And He took delight in creating you.
For you created my inmost being;
Psalm 139:13-18
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
16 Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
17 How precious to me are your thoughts,[a] God!
How vast is the sum of them!
18 Were I to count them,
they would outnumber the grains of sand—
when I awake, I am still with you.
I wish I could express how much God loves you. How much He delights in you and how and who He made you to be.
You’d be amazed.
