The Closet
Ms. Sabrina Christian, 2nd Episcopal District
The “closet” has a lot of negative connotations. It is where we hide aspects of our lives that we feel are too shameful or disgusting to disclose. The closet houses those things about ourselves that we want to conceal from the world. I have been hiding in my closet for over a decade.
My closet holds my anxieties about the ravages of vitiligo. I remember that spring day in 2004 when I noticed that first tiny spot of discoloration on my right hand between the middle and ring fingers. I remember the fear that spread! I dreaded the inevitable progression of the disease; it has progressed.
There were bright spots. These usually came from children who, instead of staring, innocently asked me what was wrong with my hands. I would simply say that the brown was going away; they would acknowledge and move on. One child lovingly stroked my hand. There were also adults who would tell me that my vitiligo was beautiful.
Despite that, I lived in the closet. As the disease stole the brown pigment from my face, I covered it with brown foundation. For YEARS, I have looked for the nonexistent perfect shade of foundation. I have blended creams with powders and powders with liquids trying to get that perfect brown. Nothing was exact, and I hid in my closet, allowing less than a handful of people to see me au naturel.
However, for my recent trip to Costa Rica, I flung open the closet. How could I go to a hot, humid climate where I knew I would sweat while trying not to wipe off my foundation? Or carry makeup in my hiking backpack to touch-up as we trekked? It was time to take off the mask. After much contemplation and prayer and tears, I did. I arrived at the airport without foundation – the first time in over a decade I have ever stepped outside of my house without foundation. I spent six glorious days in Costa Rica without makeup. But as my return loomed near, I worried. I realized it was not the reaction of strangers that I feared, but of those who knew the “brown” me. What look of horror would I see on their faces when I appeared sans foundation?
Throughout this closet-opening journey, I have kept two scriptures close to heart: Genesis 1:27 and Psalm 139:13-14. These tell me that I am wonderfully made by God in His image. Each day, before I face the world, I must remind myself that I am God’s creation with or without pigment. I am who I am…still.
I thank God for surrounding me with the right people who see me as a wonderfully made creation of God. My daughter who has seen me through it all and prayed for my peace as I left for my trip. My brother who has supported me. My friends who have bolstered me through the tears. This is me – a child of God.
Ms. Christian is a member of St. Paul AME Church in Newport News, Virginia.
