Throughout high school I was that chick who looked like she had splashed her dad’s creosote on her face. Yes I was perma tanned, and for some reason (still unknown to me) I thought I looked great. But in reality I was probably a streaky orange mess. I become reliant on fake tan to feel good about myself.
We are constantly told that a tan makes you look healthier, slimmer and more sexy. And that’s fine if you obtain a natural tan, or if you apply fake tan wanting a natural looking tan. I get it. Tans are beautiful. But we can’t all be naturally tanned.
The fundamental with keeping up appearances is that you become addicted. Two or three years ago I probably would not have left the house without tan on. You start to believe it’s your natural colour, your brain becomes numbed to your pretense.
About a year ago I decided I was going to embrace my natural colour. And I haven’t looked back since. I don’t mind if people tell me I’m really white, too pale or call me Casper.
I will be conforming to others beauty ideals no longer. This is my colour. I’m going to embrace it and love it.