Growing up, the idea of “beauty” that was presented to me was — unfortunately — by my own black people. I saw the boys in school chase after the light-skinned girls with long hair. I heard girls say they wanted to have children with some guy because he has “nice hair” and eyes (read: not dark).

Going through my awkward phase in junior high to high school, I held on to the belief that I had to be of a lighter skin tone for any guy to like me. Of course, it didn’t help when boys called me ugly to my face or behind my back (with me being close enough to hear them). It took quite some time for me to grow out of that mindset. Even in the beginning stages of my college years, the nagging voice that told me I had to look a certain way was still there.

With time, I eventually said, “Forget it.” My complexion is beautiful and so is my hair. If you like me, great. If you don’t, then I can’t help you. In the words of one of my favorite poets, Warsan Shire: “It’s not my responsibility to be beautiful. I’m not alive for that purpose. My existence is not about how desirable you find me.”

Unfortunately, even in the year 2015, ideas about how beauty is supposed to be is constantly pushed in our faces — especially for women of color. If the standard of beauty is not petite white women, then it’s thin black women of a fairer complexion. And quite honestly, I think that’s bull.

Between white standards of beauty being marketed as the norm and the whole “light skin versus dark skin” debate that sadly still exists, it can be quite discouraging trying to figure out where “your beauty” fits. That’s why I am extremely happy to see the emergence of #BlackOutDay.

#BlackOutDay was created by a young man named T’von — who goes by the URL of expect-the-greatest — in response to the lack of representation of black people on his Tumblr dashboard. “Of course I see a constant amount of Black celebrities but what about the regular people? Where is their shine? I thought about the tag #BlackFriday, and making it a tradition on the first Friday of every month, because celebrating the beauty of Blackness is of the UTMOST importance,” T’von said in his Tumblr post that explains the beginning of the hashtag.

#BlackOutDay took the social media world by storm when it was officially launched at midnight on Friday, March 6th. As it should. A chance to promote positive images of black people in a society that stereotypes and portrays us as aggressive, oversexed, or nonexistent is something that needs to be celebrated. By showing their selfies and telling their stories, black people remind society that we are of many different skin tones, roles, sizes, and sexualities. We remind society that we are multifaceted and not a large monolith.

Bizarrely, anything with a positive message is met with overall stupidity and ignorance. #WhiteOutDay quickly became a trending topic on Twitter. Some who tweeted the tag recognized the ridiculousness of it and why it isn’t necessary. Some white people felt that #BlackOutDay was racist toward them and that they should have a #WhiteOutDay.

For the love of all things holy, I seriously don’t understand the logic behind that way of thinking. That’s like when I hear questions such as, “Why isn’t there a White History Month?” (Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because white history has been taught to us since we were knee high? Particularly white, male history). Or, “If black people can have Black Entertainment Television, why can’t white people have it, too?” I guess you forgot the entire history of western entertainment. Remember when — not so long ago — David Bowie had asked Mark Goodman in an interview with MTV in 1983 why they weren’t airing any videos by black artists? Yeah.

My point is, you can’t run around crying that people of color are being racist toward you when they try to do something positive and uplift their own people. That’s just…racist. #BlackOutDay is not an attempt to diss white people. It’s a reminder that the acceptance of black beauty and culture still needs to be discussed. It’s a reminder that black excellence should not be limited to one month or be pushed aside. It’s a reminder that we are somebody’s father, mother, daughter, son, friend, lover. It’s a tribute to those before us who laid the groundwork for change. And with #BlackOutDay occuring on the eve of the 50th anniversary of the civil rights march in Selma to Montgomery, Alabama, it demonstrates that the narrative of the black experience in America is still plagued with the ills of racism.

So thank you, T’von, blkoutqeen, and the many others who created and participated in #BlackOutDay. I hope this continues for many months to come and continues to create conversations around the inclusion of blackness in our media and everyday life. I also hope that it will serve as a step in stopping the divide we put amongst ourselves. It’s bad enough that society repeatedly tells us that the way we look and who we are isn’t good enough. Don’t contribute to the dismantling of self-love that people of color have a right to.