Beauty without an asterisk: A Morena Becoming

I was taught that beauty was something I was not given, but something I had to earn.

- By Mikaela Villacorta

Before the concept of tanning became glamorized in Filipino media, having dark skin was seen as a stain. Dark used to mean dirty; something to be corrected by lightening products, cosmetic procedures, or anything that could give you the "clean and fair look."

I find it sad how common it is among Filipinas who grew up morena to have such similar instances of bullying based on their skin color. I was called "negra" and "Miss Aruba" even before I knew what these words meant, but somehow I always understood. It was in the way these words were uttered that would dictate how I felt about the skin that I lived in, even a decade after they were said.

For the longest time, I viewed my skin as a problem to solve. I was in 4th grade when I started using Kojic Whitening Soap and Silka Papaya Lotion. I was always taught to be scared of the sun, not for the harm it could do to my health, but for the strain it would cause for my "beauty." I memorized the Kojic routine like a gospel. I counted, timed and waited patiently for how long I would let the product sit in my skin, awaiting its promise. I did this every day as a young girl, not just as a habit, but like a ritual. Because I was taught that beauty was something I was not given, but something I had to earn.