The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year...

Ah, summer! That time of year when coats and cardigans are packed away and the shorts and bikinis come out. Trips to the beach and foreign, exotic locations for vacation with friends and family… Sun, Sand and Sea…

Summer, the time of year that is also known as:

The bane of my existence.

This is what summer means to me, my friends… Please try to understand if you will:

No more long sleeves, no more layers, no more hiding the patches or the whiteness of my skin so that now, in the summertime, people can comment every two seconds on some aspect of my outward appearance...

… Of course everybody else is getting that beautiful creamy caramel tan that I can only hope for in my wildest dreams or imagination, the kind of tan that makes me only seem whiter when standing next to them. Which brings me to my next point: Summer, the time of year that the contrast between my skin and the rest of the world becomes so evident that on one occasion, someone had the nerve to ask me if I was sick or dying because I was “so damn pale”.

Even worse, there are those select people who say ridiculous things about themselves such as: “Oh my! Look how dark I’ve gotten! I look so black now after being in the sun all day!” as if that is a bad thing, while I stand there and only dream of what it would be like to have a tan… While I stand there mustering every ounce of self-control to not scream at them that they are lucky, to stop complaining about how dark the sun has made them. They went out without sunscreen on purpose, so what else did they expect to happen?!

Summer is the time of short skirts and sexy legs at parties – my legs, though they may be a nice enough shape despite being a little on the short side, serve a double purpose as fluorescent lightbulbs on any dance floor next to the chocolate, mocha and caramel pins of perfection that look healthy and toned. People with a healthy tan glow… Me? I just glow… In the dark!

Summer is hard. I don’t show my legs – too much white, too much pale, too much of a spectacle. I wear short dresses and skirts at parties with the rule that I always wear a light pair of stockings as well, never bare legs. That in itself took years to happen.

I loathe wearing makeup to cover my freckles during the day as it feels like my face is melting and I’m sure people can tell, yet I don’t have the courage to go without it when everyone else is looking so perfect and healthy from the glow of the sun. Trips to the beach are a menace; even when I do get in the water, my head needs to stay above it to avoid washing off my mask and looking like a clown. I much prefer to rent a beach-house or villa with a pool and go with a select group of friends who have better things to do than to mind my skin and how reflective or transparent it is.

Summer. It’s the most wonderful time of the year… For some.