Brown Girl Instructions

Be quiet.

But not too quiet —

Or they’ll say you’re rude.

Smile more.

But not too much —

You don’t want to look “easy.”

Wear the dress.

But don’t show your legs.

Be proud of your culture —

but not so proud that they call you backwards.

Be modern,

but never forget tradition.

Speak perfect English,

but remember your mother tongue.

Cook like your grandma,

Study like your cousin,

Pray like your mother,

and marry like your aunt.

Don’t talk back.

Even when you know they’re wrong.

Especially when they’re wrong.

Be graceful,

but don’t be weak.

Be soft,

but don’t cry in public.

That makes people uncomfortable.

Be kind,

even when you’re exhausted.

Especially when you’re exhausted.

Serve the food.

Clean the table.

Smile and say “thank you”

when they call you “well raised.”

Even when what they really mean is:

you know how to stay silent.

Be pretty.

But not too pretty.

Wear makeup —

just enough to hide the tiredness.

But not enough to look like you tried.

Be fair-skinned.

Or try to be.

Use the cream.

Try the filter.

Try harder.

Lose weight.

But eat more.

You’re too thin.

You’re too big.

You look tired.

You look angry.

You look like a problem.

Be a daughter.

A wife.

A mother.

But don’t be difficult.

Go to school.

Get good grades.

But remember —

your “real job” is at home.

Speak softly.

Unless someone needs defending.

Then be brave —

but don’t scare the boys.

Especially not your future in-laws.

Know how to dance.

But don’t post the video.

Know how to sing.

But don’t show off.

Be confident,

but always humble.

Always.

Ask questions —

but only the safe ones.

Not the ones that make the room go quiet.

Not the ones that make your uncle look away.

Keep your voice low.

Keep your clothes neat.

Keep your knees together.

Keep your opinions to yourself.

But smile.

Smile through it all.

Smile when they call you sensitive.

Smile when they say, “You’re too Western now.”

Smile when they laugh at your blog,

your hair,

your dreams —

and say, “We’re just joking!”

After all,

you were raised well.

Right?

You were raised to say,

“I’m okay,”

even when you’re not.

You were raised to be the peacekeeper.

The polite one.

The people-pleaser.

You were raised to make everyone proud,

even if you never felt proud of yourself.

But here’s the truth:

I’m unlearning now.

Every rule they whispered,

I’m rewriting out loud.

Every “should,”

I’m turning into “maybe not.”

I talk back now —

not with anger, but with love.

I wear red lipstick and eat second helpings.

I rest.

I cry.

I laugh out loud.

I say no.

And no —

I’m not ungrateful.

I’m just awake.

I know now where those rules came from —

Fear.

Shame.

Control.

But I choose freedom.

I choose softness that stands tall.

I choose a voice that doesn’t shake.

Because I am not your “good girl.”

I am my own woman.

Still brown.

Still proud.

Still breaking the rules — beautifully.

They said they were protecting me

when they silenced my questions.

They pulled down my skirt

and turned away from the fire in my eyes.

They told me to do it all

for my future.

For my family.

So I did.

And I almost disappeared in the process.

But I’m done shrinking.

I’m done folding myself

to fit into someone else’s frame.

I’ll speak, even if it makes them uncomfortable.

I’ll dance, even if they disapprove.

I’ll love myself,

even if they never learned how.

Because being brown

should not feel like being broken.

So let them say I’ve changed.

Let them say I’ve forgotten where I came from.

I haven’t.

I’ve just remembered who I really am.