The Colour of Self-Worth

I’ve been meaning to put together a piece of writing that concludes all (or at least most) of my observations of my experiences as a child growing up in Indonesia in the 90s. Many of these things have been experienced without anyone else noticing, or has been seen as “minor” occurrences. 

I was born in a mystery place and on a mystery date. I was abandoned by my parents or caretakers in Cipto Mangunkusumo hospital in Central Jakarta, but a kind Tionghoa (Chinese-descent) nurse cured me back to health and transferred me to Sayap Ibu Orphanage when she realised my parents weren’t going to take me back. I was one of the few lucky babies to be adopted. My adoptive mother was (RIP) a Ukrainian-born Australian woman who was married to a (very) Javanese man, my adoptive father. I grew up looking very different to my mother. I was much darker as a baby, and people would always be whispering wherever we went. 

I was unaware of colour differences and how people categorise you in Indonesian society, until one day I was in a park in front of my house (I must have been around 9 years old). A random garbage picker went over to me and said “Dik, tutupin itu kulitnya, item banget, siapa yang mau lihat?” (Roughly translated to “Kid, cover your skin, you’re so dark, no one wants to see that”). Then, I began to notice on the TV how many skin-lightening advertisements there were. 

So I figured, OK, so I am darker than average. I was a little girl, I couldn’t really care less. It hadn’t been drilled into my brain. 

After that ‘incident’, as a teenager I noticed whenever I walked into a shopping centre, the beauty salespeople would try to sell their products by saying “mbak, butuh pemutih kulit? Mbak butuh lho” (Sis, you need skin-whitening cream? You definitely need it). Again, I was unfazed. This is the way I am and I couldn’t care less. 

But years and years of this kind of treatment have prepared me to believe that I am less of a human being than other girls. I am worth less. Especially after I was denied customer service while the lighter skin lady got better treatment. After being told that my flat nose needed plastic surgery, over and over and ooover again.

But I covered it up pretty well. I was the class clown. Comedy saved my life, entertaining my friends helped deflect the attention from my looks. It didn’t stop people from saying “Alexia looks like orang kampung (village person - in Jakarta, it’s very derogatory)” or “Alexia looks like a housemaid”. That was a sentence whispered behind my back that I actually heard on a daily basis. But I pretended I didn’t hear anything and I kept going. 

It became a standard.. the good girl has light skin and straight hair, the bitch has dark skin and curly hair. 

Now, as I grew older, I tried talking it out with friends and their responses were just as damaging. “You grew up rich and privileged, what are you complaining about”. “Get over it, looks aren’t everything”. For your information, how many rich people out there committed suicide? And yes looks aren’t everything, but self-worth matters. 

But even when people cared, they cared the wrong way. “Alexia, I will pay for your nose job and the skin whitening injections for you”. I never asked for it. I never felt like I needed it. I was already on a path of self-love, while my subconscious acknowledges the fact that I am worth less. 

In Indonesia, there is a culture of “speaking low about oneself”. Don’t be arrogant, but multiply that by 100. I am not that great, I am not that pretty, I am not that important etc etc. So, when these people who “cared” used to say “I will pay for your plastic surgery”, and I would say “No, thank you, I like being dark, and I like my nose”, they get offended. How dare she like herself while she looks like that? How dare she feel content wearing that offensive skin colour around? 

Even if… EVEN IF I have moved on, and forgiven these people. It took me decades to undo that mentality where I actually believe “I am worth less”. I have to consciously tell myself everyday to do what I need to do, chase whatever I need to chase, because I am equal to everyone else. 

So, a message to everyone out there. Be careful what your children say to other children. Think twice before you comment on someone. The smallest remark could damage minds, especially if it is fed to them everyday of their lives. Today, I can look at myself in the mirror and say “I can do this, I can achieve things, I can raise a child, I can make a difference”, but that is after yeeears of telling myself “You can’t run for student representative, no one will vote for you. I can’t compete in that contest, cause that girl with the light skin will win it. I can’t even talk this through with anyone either, they’ll just think I’m a crybaby”. 

Now, it’s 2024 and I thought we have moved on forward in this society. Especially since Rihanna and Beyonce have gotten famous and changed the standard for dark skin beauty internationally. But, I often hear about my dark skinned ladies in Indonesia, being treated harshly, being laughed at, denied jobs, customer service for being the way they are. We are still stuck in this post-colonial frame of mind. People of all skin tones have potentials and talents. Give everyone the same opportunities. Treat everyone with respect.