When I was younger, I was bullied quite a lot, because of the color of my skin. That resulted in me not understanding the world and not truly comprehending the law of action. Every action calls for a reaction. My reaction was to try hurting the people who hurt me as much as they did me. And because I did not know how except beating the crap out of them. That did not change anything at all. Inside me. I was still hurt and bad feelings were bundled inside me and I couldn’t find a healthy way to get rid of them. I wished to look different. To look the way people want me to be. In that case, it was white. Than people would leave me alone. But that is not the way I was made, and because people who surrounded me, couldn’t find a way to accept it, how could I? Especially in those years of human beings, that is all about what others think about you, where you are shaping yourself and discover the way you are? Throughout the years I learnt that my fists weren’t the solution and I learnt to hurt people with my words. This side of me, the little monster I can be and become, was accepted after a long process of discovering who I am, why I am the girl I am and what kind of woman I want to be in the future. I realized that it’s a part of me, created by bad circumstances and learnt to lock it away. Deep down inside of me. On the other hand, I understood it as weakness, than after all, it was created out of insecurity and anger. I locked it away, for it only to come out, when I need it. For the purpose of finding real and most important of all true happiness in my life.
Time heals all wounds and so I became proud of who I am. Proud to be an African. Proud of my skin and the way I look. Not to brag, but I’m a beautiful human being. I’m a beautiful woman. But not everyone can see that. Not every man turns his head when I walk down the street, in my chilled, and sportive clothes. When I’m on high heels and ready to go out, that is something else. I walk differently, I put my “I’m sexy aura” on and it’s like I walk on a different planet. But on daily basis, I look like I want to look, no Make Up, no sexy outfits. Nothing spectacular. I don’t really care if they turn their heads, than what I know, the ones who do turn their heads, are the ones who can see my beauty. I’m black. I’m not everybody’s type. And those can’t really understand black beauty. If I would walk in Togo in the same clothes, it would take me so much longer to get to my destination. I know. But I don’t live in Togo, I live in a world full of white people and here the rest of the world is called a minority. So I’m not hot. Unless I want to. I’m not an eye catcher unless I want to be one. And most time I don’t want to be hot and an eye catcher. I don’t want false attention, superficial people, small talks and men who see me as their property, as an accessory on their arm. I am so much more than that. I’m interested in so much more than my hair, my clothes (even though I adore shopping), other girls and how many looks I will get with a certain outfit. I don’t see other pretty girls as competition than we are all on the search for different things. How can an engineering student and a finance student be competitors for the same job? Both have things the other doesn’t have, different skills and the firm decides what they are looking for.
I have different skills than the girl who works to be the accessory on a man’s arm. I work differently and have different values and characteristics. I’m not studying to get more value for a man and to end up as a Madame of a mansion.
And the older I get, the more childish I get. I always say: “Since I didn’t have time to fully enjoy my childhood, I’m making up for that now.” And it’s true. I have so many facets, corners and shapes, that sometime I surprise myself. I love deep conversations, playing around and doing totally illogic things. I have some manly sides but love doing my nails and spent hours in a mall. So many things that can’t fit in one person. So many things that I’m proud of. Because during the years I noticed that there are men out there, who can see my true beauty. Which isn’t what you see on the first sight. I only have inner beauty to offer you. And of course other things, total madness, craziness and bad sides I would love to hide, but at the end, I want you to know them all. The sooner the better. I want you to close your eyes and see me, as I am. With everything described, I didn’t want to say, that I’m not a superficial human being. We all are superficial until a certain point. I just wanted to say, that I cannot offer you beauty like you used to. Your friends won’t be crazy about me and nobody will be jealous of you, when we walk down the street. For that, they have to stop and look beyond my figure, my skin and so much more.
All I have, is me. Me and my body. I won’t chose you because of your bank account, your house and the possibilities you could offer me. Saying that I chose you, might be a little misunderstanding. I put a stop to me and men when I was 19 and somehow I never found someone who was worth my while, who was worth writing this sentences to. Everything I have, I created for myself in the most common ways. I worked, and the most work I did was on myself. I’m not perfect, I’m far from it. I’m not where I want to be, yet. I’m not the woman I want to be. But I’m on my way to get to that person. Sometimes I just need a little push and a reminder that I’m so much more, than I let people believe. I would chose you because you are who you are and because of the way you make me feel, because of the person you are. Because after eating too many fruits and vegetables, you cannot forget all sweet stuff in this world. Because I could survive hours next to you, without the pressure that I have to talk. Because I forget sometimes that my voice can be overwhelming and when I add heat to it and anger, I need your calamity to cool me down, without you judging me too much. Because talking to you satisfies me so much, that I wish the night wasn’t created. Because I know I can maintain my so loved freedom, my thoughts and the way I am. I don’t have to abandon my principles, my beliefs and myself. Because you understand me and all my flaws. Because you are you.
But you are so used to beauty, that I don’t have, that every day I see my chances evaporating. I can feel that you cannot see who I am and what I am and that it’s that what life should all be about. It surprises me that after all those years in which you were disappointed, robbed and burnt by your definition of love and beauty, you don’t see the truth behind your actions and therefore draw a different line of reaction. How can you be happy with always underselling yourself? I even tried to make you see it, but I cannot speak clearer without showing you the truth. The truth is, that I like you. A lot. And I don’t even know, how that could be or how that happened and why it remained after all the things I know about you. Things that don’t fit my morals, but maybe it’s the little defect every woman has: The “I could be the one and the one who changes that man”. That actually makes me chuckle. Because I wouldn’t change you a bit. I wish you could see me as someone who could make you happy. Give you another kind of happiness. I’m not saying that I’m the true thing. That we would last because I’m so different than what you know and what you had before. All I’m asking God for is a chance. A true chance to give all I have to make you happy in the way I understand happiness. A chance of my own happy ending. A chance of you showing what love is and that it I indeed the only thing that truly matters in this world. I’m a different kind of princess than you’re used to and so my insecurities are kicking in again. Questioning everything I am and everything I worked for. Questioning my heart and my life choices. Questioning my way of breathing and way of laughing, my way of choosing my words, of choosing my reactions. I cannot control it. I don’t want to hide the true nature of me.
And so, I catch myself wishing to look differently. Again. To be an eye catcher. To be the beauty you are used to. People may think that it is crazy thinking, just because of a man. Well, people don’t know me. I said I wish, not that I’m trying to fulfill it. But still, I’m tired of not being seen. Being the friend, even though I choose to be it for so many years.
That’s the truth. And maybe I’ll surprise myself someday and will tell it to you.
Tijuana, 30.01.2016 to: Daniel G. V.