“I hated my body, I fixed it,” Her words stood out like a ripe pimple.
This year I stopped complaining and changed things. I hated my body, I fixed it, (best decision ever). I hated hanging around certain people who made me feel small; I dropped them, I learnt to forgive (I still struggle but it’s a journey), I learnt to be at peace. #2018Lessons
— Toke Makinwa (@tokstarr) 27 December 2018
Toke Makinwa has often been open about her personal struggles at the expense of her vulnerability, and I’ve often admired that about her. She owns her truths, her lies and her in-betweens regardless of side-talk and backlash, and this time was no different.
In her tell-all book, On Becoming, which was launched in 2016, she opened up to bleaching her skin in a bid to appear more desirable to fit the age-old ignorant believe that ‘lighter is better’. But I care little about what she does to her body or her reasons; I’m more concerned about the current worldly ideology that promotes self-loathing vanity. The idea that says, “If you hate it, change it” without queering why: why do you hate your body? Why do you hate your skin colour? Perhaps digging deeper isn’t the forte of this shallow era.
But, it’s quite simple, we’ve been mentally programmed to think we aren’t good enough; we aren’t shapely enough, we aren’t beautiful enough and dark skin just isn’t acceptable enough. The problem isn’t our bodies; it’s our minds.
I can categorically say every dark-skinned young lady bombarded with the media’s idea of beauty has once in her lifetime felt inadequate, and I’m no different.
Back in university, I hated my skin colour, but not enough to smother any harmful chemical on myself. Instead, I searched for natural ways to lighten my skin, but it was an attempt to futility; I often ended up with uneven patches and the vengeance of more melanin when my pockets dried up and my bank account was struck with famine. I would cry and pray for a miracle, but nothing happened – obviously, God isn’t in the business of enabling self-hate.
I lived with low self-esteem until something changed. Not my skin, but my mind.
Often, people highlight the ills of social media but fail to give it credit when necessary. Social media, especially Instagram, changed how I saw myself because of its broadened ability to bring people from different walks of life together (unlike Google’s inability to realize the world is broader than white skin). I started to see more women who looked like me. They were dark-skinned and beautiful. And, amazingly, I wanted to be darker!
So, apparently, Toke fixed the wrong thing.
Young African girls from inception need be taught to love themselves. They need to have more role models who look like them because beauty is never just in one shade, colour, shape, or size.