Learning to embrace my God-given Filipino looks in a white world.In 1994, I was on a mission to look like Aaliyah. The problem was, I?m not black. The notion of Asian beauty escaped me, so I was in search of something better.My caramel skin?sometimes mocha in the summer?is generally considered dark for a Filipino. I didn?t look like my light-skinned sisters, mom nor any other Filipino women I?d ever seen, which was confusing enough. But this was compounded by mixed messages from extended family members and family friends: either they remarked on how gorgeous and unique my tan skin was or called me ?egot??a derogatory term in the Philippines for indigenous people with dark skin. The only thing I understood from all this was that I was different. In an effort to make myself feel comfortable with my otherness, around the age of 12 I started to deviate from my own culture and avoided the other three or four Asians in my school. I gravitated toward black culture instead because that?s where I thought I?d fit in with my brown skin. My burgeoning love for hip hop music and the NBA?these were the Jordan years?showed me that being a person of color could be a source of pride, and that resonated with me.  During that time, I showed a hairstylist at Hair Cuttery (a salon chain in the mall) my Age Ain?t Nothing But a Number cassette tape and asked her to give me Aaliyah?s sleek, face-framing layers. I picked up Luster’s Pink Hair Lotion from the ?ethnic beauty? section...