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I was just fortunate to have a week off from work where I
did nothing more strenuous than deciding where we wanted to order dinner from
while I lazed idly in the pool. While in theory that sounds great, I’m a
special sort of Caucasian known as “pasty”, so any time spent in the sun is
really noticeable. And believe me, people always notice.
“Someone got some sun this
weekend.” Yes Sharon, occasionally I DO interact with the outdoors. I mean, it
offends my introvert sensibilities, but somehow, I manage.
“Oh, you got some color!” This
always seems to be said with some sort of praising voice, like when you ask
your dog, “Who’s a good boy?” As if exposing yourself to harmful ultraviolet
rays is some sort of accomplishment. I mean, I get it, I’m WHITE. I couldn’t
even be the poster child for my race because my skin is too pale. And sure, once
the weather turns cold and we stop spending so much time outdoors, my skin
color will return to its natural state of being one shade shy of translucent. But
why do people always tell me that I need some color? Did I miss something
somewhere? Was I absent for the assembly on “How to Get Skin Cancer Like a Pro”?
They literally can’t make an SPF strong enough for this transparent skin tone
I’m sporting, but I’m supposed to purposefully fry myself in the name of
getting some color? What am I missing here?
I also don’t understand when people
tell me that I need some color because I’m “too white”. Is that an insult? I’m
not sure. Do I say thank you for complimenting this beautiful Caspar coat I am
wearing? Or walk away outraged at your uncouth behavior? I just need to know
how I’m supposed to react to this information. Am I surprised by my pigment challenged
skin suit? What’s my motivation here? I need to understand the character before
I can fully become her.
Too white? I don’t get it. Do
people tell African American people they are “too black”? “Girl, you need some
whiteness, you’re too black.”
Do people tell Latinos that their
mocha color needs some cream? (Why do I want coffee now?)
Should I tell my Indian friends
that they’re just “too brown”. “Pavani,
your coloring is way too autumnal. You need to balance yourself with winter colors to
brighten up that dull skin.”
Not to mention that every time I turn around, I hear the term “white privilege”. How am I supposed to be privileged if I’m a candy cane instead of my natural wintery hue? Because let’s face it, I’m probably going to be red more often than tan. This bleached bone tone that I’m rocking can go from zero to lobster in 12.5 minutes of direct UV exposure. I can double that time if I use copious amounts of sunscreen, reapplying every 97 seconds.
Lest you think I am jumping on the “I
need something to be outraged about all the time or I am not happy” bandwagon,
I’m not. It doesn’t make me mad. It’s just baffling to me. I am just trying to
understand when getting melanoma became our life’s goal. Why can’t I just rock
my white self and be good with that? I mean, sure, my veins POP against my
super ashen skin, bringing that “old lady je ne sais quoi” look to the table,
but wait, where was I going with this?
So the next time you see my marshmallow
self walking by you, please hold your applause. I’ll have you know that I had
nothing to do with this bleached flour hue. It’s all my genetics fault.
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Want to send me a personal
note, a comment, or give me an off-color joke to add to my collection? (A doctor,
a goat and a priest walk into a gym…) Send a message to
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