In my early teens, I was bullied by another girl who was lighter-skinned than me and thus apparently felt she could demean me for my looks.

Her abuse added another layer to the shame and ridicule I already felt about my dark skin. And her colourist name-calling caused me such pain that, one day, my fury manifested itself in an emotional rage and a hard slap across this girls face.

You know the saying sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me? Its a load of bollocks. I had never been in a physical fight before that day, and it remains the only physical fight Ive ever been in. But years later, her words leave a mark in my memory, a symbol of how harmful colourism can be.

Colourism has its roots in the same seeds as white supremacy: that whiter and brighter denotes better. Its deeply ingrained in our culture, so much so that we even see young teens like my bully internalise that privilege over their peers.

Growing up, I saw how fetishised light skin defined who society sees as more attractive, more worthy of employment and relationships. I saw how light-skinned friends were the one to be asked out, while guys told me they like me a lightie. Even now, there is an unspoken, unrecognised social preference for light-skinned people, who are viewed as the acceptable versions of blackness, viewed as the ones to be heard, listened to, and held up as beautiful.