I had been thinking for some time about writing a small reflection on colourism, including my own upbringing and lived experience. For some reason, I kept postponing it.
Then, recently, I heard something in session from a young girl that stayed with me. She arrived wearing a hoodie on a very hot day. When I gently asked about it, she shared that she did not want people to see her “dark face and skin.” She said she believed she looked ugly because of her dark skin. Hearing this was heartbreaking and resonated with me.
Colourism is the practice of favouring lighter over darker skin. It is a deeply rooted form of discrimination that exists across many racial, ethnic, and cultural communities. While it is often treated as a social preference or a harmless comment, its impact can be deeply personal and psychologically damaging.
I grew up in a culture where fairer skin was often seen as more desirable. When I reached the age where marriage was being discussed, people commented on my skin colour openly. Some comments were blunt and painful, including the suggestion that I needed to become fairer to be considered desirable by a man.
Those words stayed with me. My skin colour was not a choice. I was born into it, and yet it was spoken about as though it were something I needed to correct. Even when people suggested ways to “improve” my complexion, the message underneath was clear: who I was naturally was not enough.
Colourism often begins at home. Family is usually the first place children learn what is considered beautiful, acceptable, or desirable. It is also where they may first experience praise, shame, comparison, or rejection based on their skin tone. A passing comment about a “fair” baby, a warning to stay out of the sun, or encouragement to use whitening creams may seem small to adults, but for a child these messages can become seeds of self-doubt, shame, and silence.
Colourism affects more than appearance or confidence. Skin-tone discrimination is linked to lower self-esteem, body dissatisfaction, social withdrawal, anxiety, depression, and psychological distress. It can also shape family relationships, dating experiences, educational opportunities, employment, and a person’s sense of belonging.
When beauty is measured by skin colour, children learn to evaluate themselves through a narrow and harmful lens. They may begin to believe that lighter means better, safer, more lovable, or more worthy. Over time, this can lead to insecurity, self-hatred, helplessness, and emotional pain.
Families can also be the first place where colourism is challenged. We can stop commenting on children’s skin tone. We can refuse to compare siblings, cousins, or friends by complexion. We can question beauty standards that reward fairness and shame darkness. Most importantly, we can teach children that their worth is not something to be negotiated through colour.
Every child deserves to feel safe in their own skin. Ending colourism begins with the language we use, the beliefs we question, and the love we offer without condition.
Questions for further reflection:
What are the historical and cultural origins of colourism?
What role has colonisation played in shaping and reinforcing colour-based hierarchies?
Why does colourism continue to matter across communities and societies globally?