“She’s beautiful because she’s fair.”

The words were almost convincing after seeing a commercial of a woman applying cream to her face and miraculously turning many shades lighter. Her brown skin had been edited to a pale white and suddenly she was beautiful. Suddenly, she was fair and lovely. 

I was only a child when I saw the ‘Fair and Lovely’ cosmetic product advertised on South Asian TV channels and plastered on the walls of South Asian grocery stores. The product claims to lighten your skin and in turn, enhance your beauty. Of course, anyone with common sense knows it’s impossible to rid yourself of the melanin in your skin with a fragrant cream. But after all these years, the product continues to be purchased. As an adult I never thought I’d be classified beautiful just for the color of my skin—and the idea disgusts me completely.

I had eyes on me since I was born. The Pakistani-American with lighter skin, a rare sight. I never thought that my fair skin would make me “preferable” over my sister who has sun-kissed golden skin. But it became clear how much fairness is valued in South Asian culture when I would receive countless suitors looking for marriage, all because of the color of my skin. 

The first suitor—or should I say, the suitor’s parents—had shown interest in me was when I was just a little child. Though my mind was still growing, I was chosen for my skin—not for my character, my personality, my inner self. 

When I’m singled out for being the “beautiful one” because of the color of my skin, do they think it’s flattery? Will I leap with joy that I’m “beautiful” because my skin is a shade lighter than my sisters? Without a glimpse at my heart and soul, I am picked out because I look a certain way. 

I’m like a flower hastily plucked for its beauty. But it takes a special effort to truly appreciate the way the flower smells, the way it turns to the light when the sun hits it, the sweetness of its nectar. 

These encounters have left me weary about love. It’s tiring to think about finding someone who will love me for who I am and not for the way I look. Though my experiences have always been related to the color of my skin, I’m sure many can relate to being singled out for the way their body looks. Like South Asian culture, Western culture has beauty standards that only discourage people from discovering what a person is truly like and not just the way they look.

The time may come when someone truly appreciates who I am as a person and not just for my skin. The color of one’s skin does not determine the depth of their character and the unique qualities that would otherwise be ignored. 

One day, I would like to hear the words: “She is beautiful.” Not for the color of my skin, but for who I am within.