I. magkaribal ● rival
as a child,
I knew that my skin defined me.
often covered up
and lathered in sunblock,
trying to protect
that paper white baby skin.
“gold” wasn’t a good look on me.
“white” will take you farther.
She
was born with lighter skin
and lighter hair.
they fawned over her.
she was beautiful.
she embodied what was right.
Others
compared our tones
reinforcing the rivalry,
that we are not the same,
that one was more beautiful than the other.
I tried
to “stay light.”
I used the soaps,
bought the whiteners,
advertised by the others that looked like her.
translucent skin -
glowing
taunting
better than me.
II. mestiza ● the look of privilege
I’ve known that color
defines Me.
defines Them.
I’ve clung to that
shred of whiteness
in my name,
the European traces
although it amounts
to less than one percent.
I allowed it to define me.
I’ve learned to be proud
when someone asks
“where are you from?”
because Filipino doesn’t cut it with one look of
my light skin.
I took pride in looking different in not being one of Them.
but who am I
if in between?
III. maganda ● beautiful
I gathered
my role models
from television shows
some spoke my language
but had skin
lighter
than mine.
“that’s what you’re
supposed to look like,”
Society whispered
in my ear
“here’s how you get there,” “look over here,”
“see, this is ideal”
white
with a dash of
exotic
and a surfer boy
on my arm
waves of blonde.
that is what
I want.
IV. ngayon ● now
Sociology woke me
that the white
I was trying to be
was all a fantasy
one created by
History
to teach me
to be like them
shed my differences
and perpetuate
this Society.
the color of my skin -
thought to be a
privilege
but all it did
was destroy
my connection
to my family,
the culture
I pushed aside
to achieve
what was
embedded
in my head
all along.
and now
I’m trying to
own
what is
Mine.