Beauty doesnot comprise Complexion

There are many things to learn, it's just that we refrain from doing them. It took me almost two decades to come out of the complex, I faced for being black. Yes, I am black. Black is suppose to be the colour of "SIN", in fact, black is the colour which have been carrying both sides, good as well as bad. Black may be the colour of evilness, but the blacks are not evils. I do remember every comment on me for me being black. I have lost many finer things in life. It felt like indefatigable thoughts resonating in my mind when I almost decided to suicide. Being black, I have tolerated nonsense comments by guys in my very tender age when every other girl aspires for praises of her beauty. My black complexion became integral part of my persona, it was inseparable then. I was never considered to be beautiful and the reason was always clearly stated, that I am black. It is till now we use various phrases and words like "blacklist, blackmail, black comedy, black mood, black hearted, black magic etc." describing unloving and undesirable things. Is this achromatic, hueless colour so disliked by people?
My parents and friends have been washing my brains over this topic since years, they have often gave me examples like Bipasha Basu, Helle Berry, Will Smith, Obama, Prabhu Deva, Remo, Tyra Banks and many others. But its tough to keep your foot in my shoe. "Colour matters". Many things in life had made me believe this very fact. I was called UGLY; I still control my tears when I listen to the story of "Ugly duckling". I have wasted my nights weeping over it. I have wasted all those sweeter moments I would enjoy rather. I have lost those attentions. People who are fair are given the preference, and no further research on this is needed. I am experiencing it daily. These vociferous thoughts indeed have eaten up my confidence and childhood. Life is quite beautiful and we have really less time to live to its fullest, this might sound a movie dialogue, but its true. These racial difference have thrown me away from the very world in my imagination, I forgot to smile, I forgot the ambrosia, I forgot that tickling , I forgot those melodious cavatina, I forgot those luminaries twinkling in sky, I forgot that chrome variegations, I forgot to love, I forgot to live, as if I was punished for this swarthiness. This imperceptionability of mass threw me in sudden depression for many years. I started hating myself, I never saw myself in mirror for hours, I never came in any photograph.
Beauty lies in the eyes of beholder; it took long time for me to digest this. I get immune then. My wisdom became my beauty, my cogitations gave me strength, and my noetic and rational approach is my pride. The compliments I got never bothered me first, but sooner when I got exposure to this world, I realised fair people cry for them, I was described as "girl with great personality", "girl with appealing voice", "girl with a great charm", "girl with lots of witty stuff", "a great conversationalist", "voluptuous" and many more. I observed the vigour, the utterance of soul, the elegance and lucidity of my thoughts and then I defined my own way.
Soon I realised that no dictionary in this world gives "swarthiness" as a synonym of "ugliness". It's just some contemporary and not justified belief. It's my loquacity and conation which attract people. Then I believed Life is to venerate. Live it. Love it.