- I thought my dark under-eye circles made me look different from other people growing up.
- After I saw the dark circles trend on TikTok in 2021, I realized I was wasting time on trends.
A few years ago, I decided to look through some photos from my childhood at my mom's house. I traced my life backward, watching my face grow younger, my body get smaller, and my rigged teeth replaced with small, pearly whites.
One thing that remained the same was the dark circles that cradled my eyes. The same hollow shadows that I see when I look in the mirror each day were there on my first day of kindergarten, the day I got my preschool portraits taken, and as I learned to roll over as a baby. I didn't even know how to crawl, and I already looked like I was exhausted.
Growing up, I hated that my dark circles made me look different
I wanted to cover them up from the moment I found out they were considered frumpy and unattractive by traditional beauty standards. I desired the bright, even-toned skin that I saw in my 2000s-era magazines, the kind of eyes that allowed icy eyeshadow and dark eyeliner to really pop.
I never looked anything like the girls on those glossy pages, and I continued to let the bruise-like shadows under my eyes bruise my self-esteem. I started wearing concealer as soon as my parents allowed it, and I didn't like being seen without it from then on. I would even wear makeup to field hockey practice, knowing full well I would sweat it off and reapply it in the locker room.
One of the only places I felt safe showing my naked face was at home with my family. My dark circles are a trait handed down to me through my Puerto Rican mother's side of the family.
Although people of all ethnicities and skin tones get dark circles, some beauty experts agree that they can be especially pronounced in women of color, including Latinas. I was told that they were something I would never be rid of because they were pieces of my family's history and heritage, but I was too stubborn to listen.
I didn't see my dark circles as part of the gift of life. Instead, they were a genetic curse.
The "dark circles" TikTok trend made me realize I was wasting time on viral fads
As my interest in beauty grew, I only felt more defeated. The caffeine eye creams and brightening serums that promised to erase my dark circles were no match for my DNA, and I felt like I was running out of options.
Then, in 2021, something snapped into place. I was scrolling through TikTok when I saw a woman using brown concealer to draw dark circles under her eyes, giving her an edgy, grungy makeup look.
The trend took off. While some creators said it made people with real dark circles feel insecure, others said it helped them embrace their natural attributes.
All it did was make me feel naive. I wasted so much of my youth yearning to look like someone else only to have one of my most hated features become suddenly covetable. I chased the trend cycle for a long time but I was growing tired. It was time to embrace my face, dark circles and all.
By the time I tried the TikTok-famous white concealer hack in the spring of 2022, I was able to have fun with cosmetics without treating them like a solution to an unsolvable problem.
I'm still working on my insecurities, but embracing my dark circles helped me connect with my family, my heritage, and my creativity
I still love makeup. I still have about five tubes of concealer, which is more than I've ever owned at once. The biggest difference now is that I don't let them stop me from leaving the house.
I went back to my mom's house recently and looked at some more pictures. Instead of seeing a kid who was tired and unsightly, I just saw myself. I allowed myself to go back further, this time tracing my features through my mom's childhood photos and photos of her parents. I felt proud, lucky even, that I got to carry pieces of them with me each day, especially as a Latina.
I had been caught in a riptide of beauty trends, and all I wanted to do was go home, where dark circles, oily skin, hairy arms, and big hair are always in style.