Darker

I am tan.
My skin has darkened.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Thank you to the sun and summer and long hours in the glaring, shining UV rays. My mother would so disapprove of my skin color and my "sun damage" and my risk of getting skin cancer. She is so afraid that I will end up like her, with holes in my forehead from endless biopsies. With the fear of something greater than lacerations. And I remember that day, dark in my heart but incredibly bright when I got that call...that word, feared unlike any other....cancer...
I've never been more pale than I was that day.
But today, I rejoice in my skin's darkness. Ironically, I rejoice because of my mom, because of my grandparents, because of my heritage. I am fiercely and proudly, an Arab. The most hated race in America and a huge part of what makes me, me. The paler I get, the farther away I appear from my Lebanese heritage, and I hate that.
So many times, I hear "But...you don't look Libanese...", slurred in some French accent by a creepy Arabic man at a party or in a club. I get that. I get what you might think, that I am Jewish or Italian or German. My hair is not super curly, my eyes are not dark, and I have the body of a Latina. I am an unidentifiable race, I could be anything, I am in-between. I have no place, but I have placed myself with the Lebanese, and happily thus.
The confusion is understandable. Those who challenge my heritage...well, that's when it becomes a pet peeve.
Since when do I have to fit into your cookie cutter to identify with my background? I don't feel like being forced into your molds or your stereotypes. I don't speak Arabic or have a very dark complexion, so I can't be Arabic. I am too outgoing and attached to my family to be a WASP. I am not mixed race, but I am mixed culture. Raised in the whitest of white suburbs, I was once asked by a 100% Cantonese girl if I counted as Asian. I have been called a terrorist multiple times, and "Wait, what are you?" is a question I get often, like I am some alien plant matter, instead of a person with a strong heritage and an identity. All of this stopped bothering me about a year ago, when I started to say :"I'm Arabic" as a fact more than a defense.

Today, it is a hot, sunshine-y day. I am scheduled to be outside for the strongest rays of the day. And, even though I want to care for my skin...today, I hope to deepen my coloring. My melanin is a reminder that I am who I am, fiercely, proudly.
I face the sun, and I absorb who I am.