Is it okay for me to look white?

This morning I saw my dear blogging friend, Osheta’s post about writing every day in October on the same subject.  I wondered, could I do that? Mmmm… Yesterday I read Hollywood Housewife’s beautiful post about her 7 yr. marriage.  It stuck with me.  Probably in particular, because I’m going through the exact opposite. But there was something about it, especially it’s brevity that made me think & think & think & think.  (I love when a blog post does that to me).  I was wondering the other day: do I have it in me to write consistently again, with brevity, on non-confrontational, non deeply personal, non-soul-bearing things?  What could it hurt to try?  I even created a list!

So.  This month, I am going to attempt something new: writing short posts – GASP- that are about ordinary life & everyday experiences.    Here we go…

Day 1 – Herrrrrrrr

I needed a change.  Usually, when I need a change I cut off of all my hair.  I’ve done this after a huge college break-up, after Dave & I lost our 1st child to miscarriage & after my Dad died.  I’ve been trying to grow my hair out so I opted for blond, of course.  Makes sense.  While I’m there, why not have Jo-Jo press it to?  What could 2 weeks of straight hair possibly hurt?

Back in 1999, I had a cute little Halle Berry pixie cut complete with creamy crack.  I thought it’d be fun to foray into blond highlights.  After it was done, I looked really white.  Like, an actual full-blooded white girl.  It was nuts.  People started treating me differently –better, I should clarify.  I was passing.  I passed.  All of the weirds.  The style only lasted for one week before I went back to Bruce and said, “yo, take me back to black cuz I aint tryin’ to look like no white girl. I’m having a full out existential identity crisis, yo!!!!!!” Not even kidding.

I knew last week that the potential for looking like a white girl was there & I knew people on the internet were going to light my ass up for it.  I knew it. But it’s my life and my hair and WHATEVER really.

Is it okay for a mixed race woman to look like a white girl?  Halle Berry, Barack Obama, Mariah Carey, Zendaya, Bob Marley, Boris Kodjoe, Stacey Dash, Tony Parker, Tracey Ellis Ross, Derek Jeter —– would it be okay for any of them to look like or be perceived as white?  Like me, they all have one white parent & one black parent.  Folks seem comfortable calling President Obama black but I’ve never heard of Derek Jeter being referred to that way. Same thing with Mariah Carey.  Us SUPER light skinned folks get all caught up in the middle, and in some cases, judged far more harshly. I.e. How dare you be able to pass?  You UPPITY NEGRO!

After my hair was done, I took a gajillion selfies trying to find myself in this altered state. I did feel weird. I did feel white(r). I did feel too different.  Too much. Too blond.  Too vulnerable even for Instagram. (I instagrammed any old ways).

And then of course, the internet happened. Men started commenting about how I was an “idiot” for “wanting to look white.”  And how sad it was that “I hate myself so much.”  And that I’m a “sad excuse of a black woman”. Initially, I felt sad.  Attacked.  And then after a day or so, I got fairly angry. On Facebook, I. went. off.

I took some time to pray about it.  I journaled.  It doesn’t really matter why I straightened my hair or dyed it blond.  It doesn’t really matter if I look white or am perceived as white.  It doesn’t really matter if I do want to look white or actively hate being perceived as white. It doesn’t or shouldn’t matter to me –what anyone else in the world thinks about something as superfluous as my hairstyle which, is prone to change randomly.  This style doesn’t mean I’m trying to Beyoncify myself. I’m not trying to make a grand statement. It’s just hair. I just needed a change.  That is all.

I am not my hair.  I feel the tug of war though…. that thing that happens as a black-identifying woman where the weight of others perceptions of me, my body, my personhood, my sexuality feel weighted: as if my value is 100% dependent on whether or not I am labeled strong & beautiful by black men, nice & pleasant by white women & successful & intelligent by white men.  And DAMNED if you do go out of those carefully manicured roles.  Then you may as well be a hood-rat or video vixen, on the opposite end, an angry black woman or an uppity negro.  You can’t win. I can’t win, I know that. I will never win in the court of public perception.

As a black woman, who sometimes looks white —which I am prone to do, what with 50% of my Italian-American DNA— I’m working on truly loving myself.  My beautiful yellow, super light-skinned self.

Is that okay with you?  Is it okay with you that I look white?

Cuz I’ll just be over here trying not to care what your opinion is.