Since going grey, I’ve got one regular comment about my skin

Walking down Cirencester high street, a girl in her early 20s rushed over to me. 

‘Can I ask where you go to get your spray tan? It’s so even,’ she said, looking me up and down admiringly. But I was shocked.  

Even though I’m a Londoner through and through, I’m also Indian by heritage. The ‘tan’ she was referring to, was just my natural colouring. 

I didn’t have the heart to tell her that though, so I gave her the name of my friend’s tanning salon, smiled and waved goodbye.  

This happened back in 2017 but since then, hardly a month has gone by without someone commenting on my brown skin. 

Growing up in the late 70s and 80s, these kinds of comments were, sadly, quite common. 

Even though I grew up on a council estate in Heston, I was one of the only brown people in my primary school class and I was aware that no one else looked like me. It didn’t bother me really – I wasn’t aware that racism was ‘a thing’ at the time and I just got on with it. 

But not even my parents were immune. I remember my dad coming to parents’ evening one time and introducing himself to my teacher. ‘I’m Dipti’s dad,’ he said. ‘I can see that!’ the teacher commented.  

Dad took it all in his stride and just shrugged it off, and so did I. 

Another time it happened directly to me. I was walking to school by myself when a boy in the year above shouted out: ‘You there, why don’t you go back to where you came from.’ 

I was quite ballsy for a nine or 10-year-old so I remember walking over to him and saying: ‘What do you mean, my mother’s womb?’ That quickly shut him up. 

Ironically, years later, I went for a job interview in the race relations and equality department at the local council and, low and behold, that same bully was one of the interviewers. 

One of his colleagues asked me to give an example of a time where I’ve stood up for myself. So I retold that story and I could see a look of shame and recognition sweep across his face. He didn’t say anything but they offered me the job – maybe he had a guilty conscience. 

As I got older, the comments happened less and less. As increasing numbers of ‘brown’ people like us moved to West London, I blended in a bit more and no longer felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb as I had done at primary school. 

Of course, that all changed after we moved to the Cotswolds in 2007. 

When my ex-husband, who is white, first told me he’d got a new job in Cirencester I remember saying something like ‘wherever that is.’ I was used to the hustle and bustle of London, I didn’t know how I’d cope with the slower pace of countryside living. 

Still, we upped sticks and left West London with our boys, then aged four and five, and my main priority was getting them settled in the local village school. 

While I think there may have been a few comments at the boys’ school – kids asking where they had come from (they said London, of course) and so on – as they are half Indian, they look more Mediterranean than anything, so didn’t face the same sort of comments I had. 

As for me, when we first moved I think my ethnicity was more obvious as I had really dark hair and looked Indian. No one dared comment about the colour of my skin then. 

However, after letting myself go naturally grey in 2015 though, the comments gradually became so regular that I just got used to it again. 

Most recently, I was in the post office in the lead up to Christmas and I was chatting away to the post lady not realising there was a guy behind me in the queue waiting. 

As I turned to leave I apologised to him for making him wait and he said: ‘You look like you’ve come back from somewhere exotic!’. 

‘I wish! I’m Indian!’ I replied. He then said: ‘Oh – I’m very sorry, you don’t sound Indian!’  

I wasn’t in the slightest bit offended and could see he was embarrassed. 

Just last week it happened again when I went into the health food shop. The lady behind the counter asked if I’d been anywhere nice. I told her that I didn’t understand what she meant.  

‘I mean have you been on holiday,’ she laughed. ‘You’ve got a beautiful colour!’ 

I explained the ‘tan’ was natural and her face fell.   

While I don’t think any of these comments are ever what I’d classify as malicious or even overtly racist, I do think the sort of comments I receive are more down to a sort of tribalism.  

Anyone who looks different, be it the colour of their hair or skin, always stands out a bit. And let’s face it, there are not many silver haired brown people with a London accent in the Cotswolds! So I do look slightly unusual for this part of the world. 

The irony is though, I’ve never really felt much of a connection to my Indian heritage. I’ve only been there twice and both times I felt like a fish out of water. 

I can’t speak the language, although I can understand most of it – at home, my parents mostly spoke to me in English rather than Bengali, Punjabi or Hindi – yet when I went back to India everything from the language to the food to the culture, felt so different.  

That’s why I will always identify as being a Londoner first and foremost. I’m proud of my roots and where I come from, but that has nothing to do with the colour of my skin.  

Even though I don’t see these comments as a problem right now, as a hypnotherapist and psychotherapist, I don’t look at things from a surface level – I like to dig a little bit deeper.  

I am and always have been a very tolerant person – and if these comments were made to someone else, they could potentially offend them. 

But I have come to accept them as part of my daily reality.  

As told to Georgina Fuller

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk. 

Share your views in the comments below.

MORE: Piers Morgan held call with Donald Trump before his fiery clash with Zelensky

MORE: Donald Trump invited for Brick Lane curry during his state visit

MORE: Man who died after fight outside Wetherspoons is named