For years, I stared at my reflection, searching for the answer to one question: “Am I beautiful?” But the more I looked, the more I questioned what defined beauty.
The first time I questioned whether or not I was beautiful was in secondary school. After nailing my interview for senior female prefect, the headteacher hit me with a bombshell: “You’re perfect for the position, but your haircut makes you look like a boy. Not exactly what I envision for a senior female prefect.” I am female, and I loved letting water run down my head, so I kept a low cut. I was just 13, but those words stuck for years.
For days, I stared into the mirror, searching for answers to the questions that haunted me: “Am I beautiful?” “Do I not look feminine enough?” These questions swirled in my mind like a persistent whisper, fuelled by standards that felt suffocating.
A shape-shifting standard
For centuries, humanity has been chasing an elusive ideal of beauty – an ideal that shifts with the winds of culture, history, and personal taste.Think about it: what was considered the epitome of beauty in ancient Africa?
Pre-colonial era
In pre-colonial Africa, beauty standards varied across cultures, but a common thread was the emphasis on fertility and health. Women with fuller figures, wide hips, and robust bodies were considered beautiful, as these traits signified the ability to bear healthy children. Some African societies even had “fattening rooms” or “fattening farms” where young women would be fed copious amounts of food, massaged and pampered to achieve a rounder shape, considered essential for marriage and social status.
Colonial era
The arrival of European colonisers brought significant changes to African beauty standards. Consequently, a social hierarchy emerged, rooted in featurism – prejudice against individuals with facial features that deviate from Eurocentric beauty ideals.
This hierarchy also perpetuated colourism, where the highest form of beauty was a perceived proximity to whiteness. This caused prejudice and discrimination against those with darker skin, even within the same racial or ethnic group.
Furthermore, the emphasis on thinness became a benchmark for beauty, marginalising those who didn’t fit this narrow standard.
Additionally, texturism took root, pushing the notion that only straight hair or loose, defined curls were worthy of admiration and praise. This limited perspective on beauty had a profound impact on African societies. African women began to adopt these standards, often using skin-bleaching creams and hair relaxers to conform to the shifting beauty norms, influencing self-perception and body image for generations to come.
Post-colonial era
In the post-colonial era, Eurocentric beauty ideals greatly influenced African beauty standards. The media also played a significant role in promoting these beauty ideals, with African magazines featuring predominantly light-skinned, thin models with straightened hair.
African actors and actresses with lighter skin were often cast in leading roles, while their darker-skinned counterparts were relegated to supporting or stereotypical roles.
Even African celebrities conformed to these Eurocentric beauty standards, influencing young Africans’ perceptions of beauty and further entrenching the idea that “whiteness” was synonymous with beauty and success.
Contemporary era
Today, African beauty standards are diverse and multifaceted. While some women still aspire to Eurocentric ideals, others redefine beauty on their own terms.
The journey to redefining beauty standards has been a long and winding road for African women. From the early stirrings of the natural hair movement to the ongoing conversations on colourism and featurism, a significant shift is ongoing.
These initiatives seek to decolonise our minds and challenge the internalised biases perpetuated far too long. Consequently, African women are now celebrating the rich diversity of their beauty, unapologetically embracing their natural textures and melanated skin.
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Meanwhile, the beauty industry, once a bastion of Eurocentric ideals, has begun to morph with the shift. Notably, dark-skinned models are now gracing the runways, their melanated skin and afros a testament to the industry’s progress. I’m personally impressed with the range of foundation shades for black women— Thank you, Fenty and Zikel!
Social media has also become a powerful tool for African women to showcase their beauty, challenging traditional notions and redefining standards. For the first time, the media has begun representing women of different sizes, shapes, complexions, and sexual orientations. In their advertising. African women are reclaiming their beauty heritage and promoting self-acceptance. We’re celebrating diversity, inclusivity, and individuality.
Breaking free from the old mould
The truth is, beauty has long been defined by powerful external influences — societal standards, colonialism, white supremacy, and the patriarchy. We’ve been conditioned to conform to these standards and led to believe that women who do not meet the preset standard are ugly and undesirable.
But what about beauty that defies categorisation? The beauty that lies in imperfection, in uniqueness, in the quirks that make us who we are?
How long has it been since we’ve allowed ourselves to love our faces and bodies instead of searching for flaws in their design and presentation, judging ourselves through the lens of what our society has convinced us is beautiful?
While many still harbour preconceptions ingrained into our cultural consciousness, in recent years, society has made leaps in expanding our ideas of what we consider “beautiful”. Though there’s still a long way to go, I remain optimistic about the future.
In essence, there is no set of beauty rules. In 100, 200, and 300 years from now, the physical qualities that society glorifies may fall out of fashion and traits that we typically think of as “unattractive” could become the new gold standard. Our perception of beauty is not based on fact, but an ever-changing set of societal opinions that ultimately mean nothing.
Who should define beauty?
So, what makes you beautiful? Is it your bright smile, your infectious laugh, or your unapologetic attitude? Whatever it is, own it. You define beauty, not society.
Now, I no longer question my beauty. I know I am beautiful—simply because I exist, just as I am. No one else defines my worth. I look in the mirror, and instead of critiquing and searching for answers, I see the beauty that already shines.
