[Disclaimer: So this is not a blog about not loving light skinned peeps (because I love ya’ll) but it’s more about me coming into loving my brown skin and how beautiful it really is and how it has helped me on the W.R.]
Now-a-days everyone and their momma want my skin color. People in the States are all about baking it up in a tanning booth or frying themselves in the sun, which is their prerogative just be careful peeps, you only got one skin to live in. But in other countries it’s quite the opposite. Going into the Asian countries and going into the different stores to find body wash or sunblock practically everything had “whitening” agents because being dark is looked down on. That really saddened me because I know what it’s like being the dark one in a sea of white. Growing up as a kid in California when at that time being light skin was desirable it was at times tough loving my brown skin. My sister Wendy and friends were all lighter than me which made me question my concept of what beauty meant. Now don’t get me wrong my sister and friends ARE beautiful but myself being a teen and pre-teen not looking like those around me was unthinkable (gasp). I had a hard time really genuinely loving my beautiful brown tan skin. It took years of growing into my skin and God revealing my beauty to myself (even if at that time I didn’t recognize it was His doing) to loving every ounce of me. I have learned to appreciate and love what I like to call the caramel color I live in.
I am thankful for my brown skin because it makes me who I am and it has really come in handy on the Race. I am not kidding when I say every country (minus one) I have been asked if I was a local. Ok no surprise that I was asked in Central America. It also helped that I spoke the language fluently but I thought that was going to be it, but I was wrong. Going into Romania I thought all white people right…nope. I was mistaken for a gypsy. It also helped that I had previously shaved my head and it was cold so wearing a head scarf helped. I was also mistaken for a boy but that’s beside the point. Transnistria was the only country I wasn’t mistaken for a local. Let’s face it people I was one of two darkest people in the whole dang country, the other was my beautiful Ecuadorian teammate, Drea. Thailand, you think I don’t look any kind of Asian right? Well you would be wrong because in the market I was asked if I was Thai, I smiled and said no but secretly I wanted to say yes but then the reality of them talking to me in Thai sunk in and I quickly said no. Malaysia, since I lived in the capital K.L, there were also many Indians, so I was asked a few times if I was Indian by Indians, which has also happened back home in Fresno also by Indians. Cambodia, now you think “girl you do not look any kind of Cambodian”, well I don’t but the villagers took an instant liking to me because I had the same skin as theirs. They said walking in a crowd with them there would be no difference. My skin has been the spark of some conversations for me. I have been able to instantly make people more comfortable and feel like we have a special bond because of the color of our skin, we have something in common. God has made us in all shapes, sizes, and colors and we are His most beautiful creation.
If you’ve done your taxes and realize you’d like a write off for next year than you can log onto my blog: elizabethgonzalez.theworldrace.org, actually reading you’re already here so look to the left and click the “support me” link if you’d like to make a donation. I am still in need of $3,462.38 to stay on the Race. Please pray about supporting me and coming along side of me on this journey the Lord has me on. Thank You so much for your support and prayers.
