My beautiful White Vitiligo.

It’s a beautiful day outside today – the brilliance of the sun over powered by some lovely grey clouds- it’s cool and breezy; exactly how I like it to be. I know it doesn’t fit in with most of your definitions of how or what beautiful days are supposed to be; but then my definition of beauty was always out of sync with you, world. Trust me, I did try to match up for a very long time. I have Vitiligo. I don’t fit in your box of beauty. I struggled trying to find a small corner in that box- with no real help from you.

You stared. You still do. Your curious stare rakes up some dormant uneasy emotions that transformed me instantaneously into someone I used to absolutely hate. When you stare it makes me want to cover up my mouth as I speak, but the moment I start to do that I realize the hands are even worse so I am now trying to hide those hands awkwardly behind my back, under the table, looking down trying to avert your gaze and wishing I could say something to distract you from the white shroud on my body, my beautiful white vitiligo.

This white vitiligo covers the real me that most of you refuse to see. The real me that certainly is much more beautiful than what my vitiligo makes me feel. The real me that most certainly is smarter and intelligent than what my vitiligo makes you want to believe about me. The real me that definitely is more social and warm and fun than what my Vitiligo make me behave. The real me that some of you lost the privilege to know, coz you refused to see beyond my beautiful white vitiligo. 

Vitiligo is an auto-immune disease, where, for reasons we still don’t comprehend, bodies create antibodies that kill off the cells that make pigments. Turns out, my body is my biggest enemy on a self-destruct mode. So not only have I to deal with the hostile world outside, I also have to ensure I don’t stress this body into killing some more friendly melanocytes. 

Depression is an entirely different demon to deal with.  Help in the form of well meaning, un-solicited advice is in surplus around me. 

Don’t react to those that stare, they say. Don’t take it to heart, they advise. Love your body. Your flaws make you beautiful, they tell me when agonizing over an acne mark on their face!  Shine through your white vitiligo- bring forth the light within. How the hell am I supposed to keep this light on forever? What makes you think I am as strong as I make you believe I am? Thanks to a friend who taught me to fake it till you make it- I can fake it I know, but can I ever make it in this life time? I may not. I won’t lie to myself. This may not be a story with a happy ending. Unless I fake the happiness or bring on the end- happily. Neither of which I am willing to do.

They showed me videos of a supermodel suffering from Vitiligo. Watch and learn they said. No one taught me how to do that though. ‘Be yourself and there will be someone who will reach out to the real you behind the white vitiligo and that will be your fairy tale to live through’. The irony that neither fairies are real nor their tales struck me, but you don’t want to be pessimistic. Hope is your poison.

That wretched hope that helped you live through horrid school days when your friends abandoned you. When school teachers refused to let you participate in on-stage events. When you would wander by yourself in the school corridors when other children were making happy memories for life. Over protective loving parents trying to keep me away from it all. Instead of helping me fight through the vitiligo they buried me a foot deeper with every passing day. 

Today as I share this, it is not to point fingers or pitch for sympathy or pity. It is to celebrate the fact that I am stronger despite you being unfair to me. 

You are a cruel world. You, here, refers to everyone who is not me. Every single person who tried to tell me to compromise, keep off the limelight and not draw attention to my flaws. Everyone who made me believe I am not good enough. Everyone who made me despise my reflection in the mirror. Everyone who convinced me I was the ugly duckling.  Everyone who was embarrassed to be seen with me socially. Everyone who used my Vitiligo to ridicule me when you couldn’t find anything else to hit me with. Everyone who said they were in love with me but couldn’t take the relationship ahead coz you know- society or family or future kids!

Well, I am done with you. I refuse to play victim to your poor sensibilities. I forgive you for your ignorance. And I forgive myself for believing in your lies.

I am happy being what I am. While the staring still incites doubts of coming undone, I have come a long way with some help from an angel or two. The endless hours spent in the school library helped me broaden my perspective. The time I saved when not fretting over boyfriend issues helped me focus on my career. The different kind of people I met along the way helped me learn how to differentiate between the true gems and the faux stones. I am proud of what I have achieved so far, and believe me when I say I am not yet done. I am just getting started. I may still stumble and I may still fall, but guess what, I know how to lift myself up again. If not the fairy tales, maybe there was some truth in the parable- ugly ducklings do truly transform