At a young age, most girls play with a doll with a skinny yet slightly curvy figure, large blue eyes that glow from a mile away, the perfect smile that attracts all the guys, and gorgeous blonde hair. She was Barbie, the ideal beauty standard for many young girls, myself included—the only difference. But the only difference between Barbie and me is that I'm not skinny with a slight curve, just curvy, but most people just call that fat. I didn't have blue eyes, just brown like dirt. I didn't have the brightest and whitest smile, just big teeth with a gap. I have black hair, nowhere near blonde. Barbie was white, and I was black; I couldn't be Barbie. I remember dreaming of becoming a piano player, so my mom enrolled me in classes. When I stepped into the building I saw nobody of my skin color, and I thought that this wasn't for me. The feeling was something I’ve never felt before. Every girl resembled their Barbie, yet none looked like me. When elementary school came back around it brought its challenges. When we had lights out in the gym, I would overhear girls saying, "Where did Harmoni go?" became a joke people thought was funny. Insults like "the shadow" or "blackie" echoed in my ears. It felt like it was impossible to be black. My entire identity and personality became the obstacle. I had to overcome the stereotype. I stayed out of the sun so my skin wouldn't become too dark. I tried to get a silk press to look like Barbie, all so when people looked at me they wouldn't see the 'dark-skinned' girl. I used to hate being black. The beauty standards placed on women are unreal. They say, "You have to be thin, but not too thin". And you can never say you want to be thin. You have to say you want to be healthy, but also you have to be thin. You have to have money, but you can't ask for money because that's crass. You have to be a boss, but you can't be mean. You have to lead, but you can't squash other people's ideas. You have to never get old, never be rude, never show off, never be selfish, never fall down, never fail, never show fear, never get out of line. Reflecting on the struggles faced by all women, the societal double standards become even more pronounced for black women. "Always smile, so you don't look aggressive, make sure to not do too much with your hair or you'll be seen as fast, oh and wearing long nails that's ghetto." After years of feeling pressured to conform to societal standards, I reached a turning point where I began to redefine success on my terms. This shift marked the beginning of my journey towards self-empowerment. Instead of hating being black, I started embracing my dark skin. While I still envisioned Barbie to represent the outside appearance, she was so much more. She was me. I've come to appreciate the unique beauty in my curves, brown eyes, and black kinky hair that has now become my crown. Piano, once known for its uniformity, transformed into a stage where diversity was celebrated, breaking free from the confines of stereotypes. Along this journey, I wanted to be the Barbie I didn't have growing up for little girls who looked like me. I realized that being Barbie isn't about fitting into a narrow mold that society created for women, but rather Barbie is anyone who you choose to be. My skin was no longer my obstacle, it became my superpower. I'm writing this to my younger self to show her how far we've come.