"Put down the bleach. Your skin is not dirt that needs to be cleaned out like yesterday’s shirt. You are comprised of sienna, chestnut, and warm mahogany. Dark as the night sky, constellations are tucked neatly underneath your bones. Your skin reminiscent of the hot chocolate that warms winter nights. Like rings around a tree stump, you too have history etched into your melanin. Don’t let the glaring whiteness, blind you from the beauty that you are. "
Middle school is a time where everyone is awkward, pubescent, uncomfortable in their own skin, and nobody knows who they are. Voices are changing, hair starts growing, everyone has zits.
So if everyone was in the same boat, why did we all decide to make it a living hell for each other?