Most people in the world are willing to admit that the European “standards of beauty” are at the root of everything from self-hatred to being singled-out for special treatment based on looks, or at least the perception of how certain people look when slathered over with more than a half pound of cosmetic touch-ups.

Most women, nearly all to listen to them talk about it, suffer from this need to over-exert themselves in order to make the European standard a truth in their own lives.

Be it weight, height, size, shape, hair texture and color, eye color, the shape of the hands or nose, size of the feet, the size of the butt or the buttocks, whatever it may be, women go through a lot of machinations day after day to get themselves as close as possible to that standard, some even going so far as to take surgical means to alter whatever unappreciated “gifts” they were endowed with in the genetic schematic of their lives.

Black women’s dilemmas go a few steps farther into depths that no other woman on Earth has to deal with — on top of all of the above, there is the darkest skin color that some like to describe as “the color of shit,” and there is also the wiry twisty cotton candy bushes and locks of hair that some –even Black women with more Euro-textured hair– also define as “nappy.”

Looks-ism (‘lookism’) is defined as “the construction of a standard for beauty and attractiveness, and judgments made about people on the basis of how well or poorly they meet the standard.” Psychology Today states “We know that attractive adults and children are judged to be more intellectually competent, emotionally adjusted and socially appealing. The questions are whether, when or why physically attractiveness reliably and powerfully predicts occupational outcome variables like income, career progress and performance.”

I remember shortly after I said something about “looks-ism,” as usual, some folks looked at me like I was a three-headed green mongoose made of swiss cheese imported from the moon.

Today, that word is not only widely accepted, but it has a psychological definition.

Self-esteem is a tied into looks-ism in ways that are too intricate to define without an indepth study, and even Black women who declare in public “I am a Queen” often look in the mirror and find flaws on their faces and bodies that could use some help or some “work” done to them.

I myself am guilty of not even being able to look at my face in a mirror until I was in my mid-30s. Even when I applied makeup, I put the mirror close enough to emphasize only the area I wanted to put makeup on and refused to look at my face, except for a quick glance to make sure it was all evenly applied, even after the makeup was on. For some years, I actually wore shades indoors and out, rain or sunshine, daytime and night time, in order to hide the sadness in and the dark circles around my eyes.

Guys made no delay of letting me know I wasn’t a very good-looking female; not even something they would define as cute let alone gorgeous…according to European standards; and one guy even said, after I asked him why men seemed so focused on what they described as my “Tina Turner-shaped” big legs, so what was up with my face, he said “You a-ight.”

A-ight.

I can only imagine what women much darker and less “a-ight” than me must go through, because that word crushed my spirit enough to make me not even want to wear makeup any more. What was the point? A-ight.

I spent years avoiding cameras, definitely avoiding videos, even when family was around, and avoiding speaking on recordings or radio because my ‘ugly’ voice seemed to go along with the ugly that had been tattoo’d on my face by virtue of inherited birthright.

Truth told, other Black women are sincerely guilty of doing it to one another. Oprah confided that she was forced to sleep on the porch outside for being “too dark.” That horrendous dark-skinded light-skinded “thing” has always been the bane of our existences.

I was a sales consultant for Warm Spirit (now known as Soul Purpose cosmetic and skin care products) and was holding a gathering at a beauty shop that I had been invited to use by a local teacher who was really trying to help me get my business off the ground by utilizing her resources.

One of her guests came to the event and asked to be introduced to the Host (me) and the first thing that came blurting out was “You don’t look like the girl in that ad at all!” The teacher turned around and looked at her like she had lost her mind, voice elevated and all, “Dang, [whatever her name was]! It was an AD! A company promo ad! Good grief!” Of course, this light-skinned female was much prettier and more of a fashion plate than I could hope to be, so I can only guess that her mental condition had persuaded her she could only buy products from pretty people.

I said nothing at all and simply walked back to my set-up station to get ready for the presentation, now SORELY aware that I was not pretty like the girl on the company flyers. I made up my mind that day that I was never going to get involved with any companies that required me to “look as pretty as an ad girl model” ever again. Needless to say, she did apologize and tried to make it up by purchasing more than $150 worth of products that night, but I never forgot it. The shades went back on, even inside and at night.

However…

Now that I am finally over refusing to take a good look at myself in the mirror, and now that I have come to realize that not being “drop dead gorgeous” does not mean a person is ‘hollywood ugly’, and that, as far as getting a man, there are Black women out here whom the European-loving community would call outright ugly who have better and better-looking husbands than celebrity-raving beauty Halle Berry has been able to commit to, it occurred to me:

Not only is beauty in the eye of the beholder … but many of the “beholders” often don’t think much of their own looks. Some of the beholders even think that the ‘beauty’ they see might think they don’t look so hot.

All that glitter and there is no gold.

Part 3