This impromptu post is dedicated to my lovely grandmother who just passed away this past week. After hearing the news, I immediately flew home to the U.S. to be with my family and celebrate her life. My grandma’s name was Florence, and
For as long as I can remember, my skin has always been a topic of conversation. Some have been positive and some have been … not so positive. In one of my earliest memories of grade school, I can remember a classmate asking me, “Why is your skin so white?” Up until that point, I hadn’t even questioned that myself. Why WAS my skin so pale? I just shrugged my shoulders, and we carried on with our playtime.
A couple years later I can recall being at a swimming party for one of my good friends. Everyone was in their bathing suit getting ready to hop into the pool when one girl looked at me and shouted, “You look like a ghost! A real ghost!” Another one of my friends joined in on the conversation asking me, “Yeah, why don’t you tan? Don’t you EVER get a tan?” I can’t remember what my answer was, but I do remember that being the first time I was ever embarrassed of my complexion.