Born into Colorism An Unspoken Inheritance, A Battle for Worth

We are born with skin kissed by ancestry, dipped in shades that tell the story of continents, survival, resistance, and royalty. But before we are taught to love ourselves, some of us are taught to compare. To measure our beauty, our value, and our potential against a distorted mirror — one that praises lightness and punishes melanin.

Colorism is not just a preference. It is a wound passed down in silence. It is the comment from a family member who tells you to stay out of the sun. The casting director who skips your headshot. The dating profile that says “no dark skin.” The internalized voice that whispers, “You’d be prettier if you were lighter.”

Born into Colorism means being born into a world where your worth is too often filtered through a colonial lens. It means navigating life knowing that your brilliance might be dimmed not by strangers, but by your own people. It’s the pain of feeling invisible and the rage of being seen only through stereotypes.

But this is also a story of unlearning, of healing, and of rising.

We are not the lies they told us. We are not their hierarchy of hues. We are divine in every shade. And to be born into colorism doesn’t mean we must die in it. We are the generation that speaks what was once hushed. That loves loudly. That calls our beauty sacred, no matter the shade.

Born into Colorism is not just a topic. It’s a movement. A reckoning. A revolution of self-love, community restoration, and ancestral truth.

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