These days we are constantly bombarded with images of what we’re supposed to look like, sculpted bodies, flawless skin and perfectly styled hair.
Our society has developed a deep-seated cultural obsession with a narrow, manufactured ideal of beauty, often tied to Eurocentric standards. This disease devalues our authentic selves and creates a hierarchy where altered appearances are valued over natural ones.
The effects are widespread, but I, along with many Black women, have seen firsthand how this sickness works. It manifests in subtle yet painful ways, constantly reminding us that our natural state is considered somehow “unkept” or “unattractive.”
I remember someone asking me why I rarely wore acrylic nails, suggesting my natural nails looked unpolished. The assumption was that to be “presentable,” I needed to conform to a standard that simply doesn’t align with my life. I use my hands constantly for work and daily tasks and acrylics would hinder me. It’s a small thing, but it’s a perfect example of how our natural choices are judged against an artificial standard. The pressure to present a meticulously crafted version of ourselves is a constant, exhausting burden.
This pressure extends beyond a single feature. A friend once told me she couldn’t leave her house without makeup, not even to the grocery store. Mind you, it wasn’t as if she had bad skin; it was about her feeling presentable when she finally bumped into her future husband. I don’t knock anyone for wanting to look presentable, but the belief that her face, in its natural state, was not enough was disappointing. I’m good to go as long as I have good sunscreen and lip gloss.
It’s a pervasive energy drain, a constant effort that takes a toll on our self-esteem, cognitive resources and bank accounts. When we are taught from a young age that our worth is tied to how we look, we internalize a feeling of inadequacy that can be crippling.
Sometimes this judgement can come from within our own families and communities. I’ve been made fun of for my slim build by relatives who told me I needed to “put on more weight” or that I didn’t look well. Their comments had everything to do with what they’ve learned: Women with larger hips and body frames have good health, fertility and prosperity.
Celebrities and influencers don’t even look the way they appear on their feeds. The pervasive nature of this criticism was painfully illustrated when a 37-year-old Zambian lawyer Naomie Pilula went viral in June 2025 after posting a selfie that attracted thousands of negative comments attacking her appearance, particularly her nose. They questioned if she was using a filter or AI and even suggested she get plastic surgery.
These comments were about a collective belief that a nose that doesn’t fit a Eurocentric ideal is something to be ridiculed and “fixed.” Naomie’s strength in owning a feature she loves because it’s her father’s is a powerful statement, but the very existence of such a vicious online attack shows how deeply ingrained this mentality is.
True beauty is about embracing what society has deemed “ugly.” It’s about keeping your natural hair, showing off a slim build, or letting your skin breathe without makeup. It’s about recognizing that our value doesn’t diminish with a few extra pounds or the first gray hair.
Liberating ourselves from this beauty sickness requires a collective shift in perspective. We must start celebrating authenticity and rejecting the notion that we need to be something we’re not to be worthy.
