Confessions of a Black Girl Living in a White World
re-post from my 2017 blogging days...
Pressured. Alone. Excluded. Different. Less than Average. No sense of control.
…Judgement.
All things I've personally felt growing up in a white world as a black female.
This post is not meant to offend anyone, it is not directed at one person. It is simply #realtalk and if it upsets you in any way, please know that those are not my intentions.
I can only speak for myself, for my experiences and circumstances.
So, please take this for what is it, the experience of one person in a world of billions.
As I sat at the table of a little restaurant situated on the corner of a popular street in downtown Quebec City time stopped a little as the words brushed ever so effortlessly off the lips of an older, grey-haired, white New York man.
He adjusted himself in the bar stool and spoke seriously. There we were a table of four 20-30 something's who had all met while adventuring through Canada, talking about everything under the sun and up came Politics, American Politics to be more specific. Probably my least favorite topic to talk about, I blame the gin for my willingness to chime into the conversation that night.
I could see this older man turned in his seat facing us, listening in. I peek over at him making eye contact and greeted him with a smile.
"Sorry," he started to apologize when he realized we noticed him listening in "I just love hearing everyone's thoughts on this stuff." Genuinely curious about his viewpoints, we welcomed him to the conversation eager to hear what he had to say.
"I can tell you grew up in a white world." Were the first words he said to me before he began to try to explain his viewpoints on why he voted for Trump. He never did get to finish what he wanted to say as the arrogant Polish guy we were with wouldn't let him talk without trying to ruffle his feathers and play devils advocate. But his first words stuck with me. Got me thinking…
Now, I didn't take offense to what he said at all. The guy was awesome. And it definitely wouldn't have been the first time someone has said or implied the exact same thing to me. I'm constantly aware of the fact that I get judged all the time. Judgement is a very close friend of mine to the point where I almost expect it these days.
Now, I'm not saying this is a good thing or bad thing. I'm just laying out the facts for you. Welcoming you into my thoughts, my experiences and my journey through life.
People judge me all the time, they set these expectations in their head of what I SHOULD be. What I am. What I am not. Before I even open my mouth and I find it very fascintating most of the time. Sometimes it's offensive and rude, sometimes it's just plain annoying. But it definitely is something I know very well.
Just to feed my own need for entertainment and out of genuine curiosity I asked "How did you know I grew up in a white world?" - I mean, he was 100% correct. My parents moved me out of the poverty of the Dorchester/Inner City Boston area when I was only 5 years old. My life after age 5 was safer, I grew up in a small suburban town North of the city, there were big nice houses, lots of green grass, heck I even had cows roaming around my back yard.
So, I exchanged bullet shots on the streets for bunnies and turkeys roaming the streets, and the occasional cow at my front door. But those are stories for another day. Most of my friends to this day are white.
I grew up in a predmoninatly white town, went to predominantly white schools. And, I'm grateful for the childhood I was able to have every day. I could stay out late playing on the islands of grass with my friends until sunset without my parents worrying about a thing. That would never happen if we never moved. I was a happy little child.
His response to my question came quickly, as if it were obvious. "The way you dress, the way you talk...I can just tell."
Year after year I experience this kind of judgement. I'm told I'm not black enough, I'm told I'm "Too white" - all because I don't do this, or I do too much of that, because I wear whatever the fuck I want to wear...all because I don't fit a mold of what society has deemed to be "the right way to be black."
I mean, silly me...here I was thinking all I had to do to be a black female was be birthed from black parents but apparently, there is a lot more to being black that everyone else but me seems to know about. I've learned to find humor in it all. It's comical to me how someone who isn't black feels they have the right to tell me that I'm not being black enough. As if they even know what it's like to be black at all.
Is there a rule book I don't know about? Cause, I'd definitely love a copy.
I had to learn at a VERY young age what ignorance was. I remember growing up and having my close friends make comments to me that were ignorant beyond belief and I was able to brush it off most days, I knew it was ignorance.
And, I don't know how I was able to understand that concept so early on but, I am grateful for that. Because I feel hearing these things day in and day out can be soul-crushing, damaging to ones level of belief in themselves, to their very well-being.
I had my days though, don't get me wrong. I went through YEARS and YEARS of wanting my hair to be straight, to feel like I was ugly without my hair being as long and tamed as possible. I had people imply to me that I would look better if I straightened my hair. If I dressed a certain way, If I did this, or did that.
I wanted to fit in. And being overweight only added to the struggle. I damaged my hair trying to fit a mold of what I thought I should be. And, I feel like this is something most people go through during young adolescent years regardless of race, I just felt it was amplified with the added pressure of being a minority adolescent.
I had to grow and learn how to accept that I am who I am. And, it seems that others haven't caught onto that concept yet.
And this isn't a race thing at all. I've been judged by white people, I've been judged by black people. I've been judged by people in my extended family, for not fitting a damn mold. Seems a bit ridiculous, doesn't it? But, it has become my norm.
But with age, I've started to care less and less about fitting this mold. I care less and less about if someone thinks I'm "Too white" or "not black enough." - because I'm just me. And, I'm living my life to be the happiest me that I can be.
So, this is me shedding a sliver of light on a part of my life that I feel others might resonate with. So, whatever end of the spectrum you may find yourself in on this topic, if it even relates to you at all...my only hope is for it to get you thinking. Our words and actions towards others certainly do have a ripple effect.
And, quite frankly, not everyone cares to hear what you think of them or what you expect of them.
This is me speaking out to anyone who might not have realized that I actually do not give a flying fuck what mold I fit in.
This is also me taking back my own identity, after years of being so unsure of it. I am a happy, healthy, black, female who is going after what she wants in life and doing what makes her feel good and if that offends you in anyway then #sorrynotsorry.
If my inability to fit the mold that you've created in your head for me makes you uncomfortable, I'm still not sorry. You can tell me what you think of me all you want, you can tell me I'm not being enough or I'm too much. It's not going to change who I am.
If only people spent more time focusing on who they want to be, how they want to impact the world, instead of what everyone else is doing and being, maybe we would all be a lot more happier. #justsayin'
And, lastly, this is me reminding you that you are not alone. If you've ever felt judged, you're not alone. If you've ever felt like you don't meet people's expectations of you, YOU ARE NOT ALONE.
If you've ever felt like you weren't good enough, you are not alone. not even close. So, just hear me when I say this...life is too short to let these things weigh you down.
Life is too short to allow these things to impact your daily happiness. So, keep shinning bright.
Be who you are, not what people want you to be.