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I am Mexican and my cousin is 1/2white and 1/2 mexican. I never understood how she was related to me if she was a white gurl when i am a mexican gurl.Her dad was white and her mom was mexican.
When I would spy on my sister and her friends, I overheard her saying to her best friend that she knew her face was going to erupt. She meant she was going to break out, but for a few weeks I was quietly waiting for the day her face would combust in a fiery explosion.
When i was little i had a little african american doll that i loved and named him Micheal after a friend i had, i would call him my chocolate baby. Well one day at the grocery store i shouted hey mommy look chocolate people!!! I've felt bad ever since.
When i was about 6, I believed that when you streach your arms up, (and then you streach too hard and you get a sting in your armpit) that my skin had ripped right open. I always ran to the bathroom adn put a band-aid on my armpit. I never looked at it because I was afraid of blood. My mother would always see me with bandages in my armpits and asked me why. I would always say "because i ripped open again".
i used to wonder, what happens to scabs when they fall off? i thought that a weird land-crawling octopus would seek out the minute pieces and keep them to cover his skin so it wouldn't dry out.
When I was about 7 I believed black people were black because they didn't shower enough.
Well, my gradma had this cleaning lady who was black. Once she was watering the plants in the backyard and I asked her:
-- Hey (her name), why don't you water yourself now and get rid of all the dirty??
My mom and grandma were ashamed for a long time. And now I'm ashamed also!!
when i was little, my mom would tell me that the beauty marks on my face was there because a fly laid their eggs on it. which made it turn into a different colour.
i then asked why the eggs dont hatch, and she said it was because the eggs all died under your skin because i didnt wash my face properly enough. after that i always thought my beauty marks was there because flys sh$t on my face. (i would always have my bedroom door closed now)
When I was 7 years old I noticed the lines in my palm formed a "7" shape. I was positive that when I turned 8 that they would turn into a "8". Needless to say, I was a little upset when they didn't.
My friend is Arabic, and when she was young she used to believe she was white because she knew she wasn't black and she thought those were the only kinds of people.
I used to believe that if you were Caucasian you from New Orleans because they eat cajun foods.
When I was in elementary school I absolutely loved African animals, safaris, etc. I figured that this must mean I was African American (strange because I'm very much Caucasian). I told all my friends "Hey, did you know I'm part African American?" We were so young they believed me.
I was told that people had seven layers of skin. I thought that if you lost one layer, it didn't grow back. I was so scared to get scrapes and cuts.
I thought black people's behinds were white-just like white people with a tan.
When I was ten I had about a dozen warts on one of my arms and another one on my leg. Anyway, I can remember thinking that warts are caused when blowflies bite you. I also thought that the name of those tiny tumours which are caused by Human papillomavirus (HPV) was spelt 'worts'.
when i was a little girl.. i always believed that black people had blue blood and white people had red because our skin colour was pink and theirs was a very dark blue
My mom told me that if I had a cut or open wound and then ate soy sauce, the opening would end up being dark when it healed, like a mole I guess.
i use to think when i was like 5 (12 now)
that finger nails were hard skin!!lmfao♥
i used to think that everyone was made in an oven. so i thought that coloured people got left in the oven for too long and burned hence why they were black.
My son hated to get dirty when he was little. When he was about 16 months old we went to the grocery store, and passed a black lady who stopped to speak with me and my son...when she spoke to him and reached out her hand to him, he looked at me and asked before taking her hand "dirty?". We laughed so hard we had to sit down.
Fair skinned with freckles, I believed for years that as I grew bigger, my freckles would also grow bigger, and one day I would have a marvelous tan. Somedays, I still want to believe it!