by | –theGrio.com
It must have been the hottest day in summer, and as usual, I was wearing my long sleeve black sweater. Heading down into the subway, I was hesitant to take it off. But I walked into the subway and into the train car. Of course there is no air conditioning. I had to take it off. As I began to take my sweater off, I felt one stare. In a matter of seconds, I felt four.
Pretending not to notice, I sat down, counting down the stops. Not a minute after sitting, a woman leaned over to me and said, “Why are you bleaching your skin? Are you not proud of your skin? You young girls need to embrace who you are.”
What was I supposed to say? I didn’t even understand what was going on with me. How could she know that years ago, I had been diagnosed with vitiligo, an uncontrollable and non-contagious chronic skin disorder? So I sat quietly fighting back tears and anger. How could someone just assume these things about me? Did everyone in the car think the same thing? That day, it was very clear to me that I would never fit in, and people would never accept me or my vitiligo
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