Anyone else struggle with going from a cool beige in the winter to a warm brown in the summer?
Like I get an identity crisis when the seasons change 💀
I mean not only do I need to change the way I dress and apply makeup but also I go from white passing racially ambiguous to very obviously not real MaYoNnAiSe
And idk it’s just a weird way to exist? From white people who know me grabbing me randomly to freak out over how tan I suddenly got and/or asking if it’s real, to the up tick in people wanting to play the “what are you game”
And because of my curls a lot of people make the assumption that I’m part Black or Hispanic/Latinx and that feels weird cause I’m being assigned like complex weighted social identities that I don’t really have anything to do with while never having the ones I actually do be recognized?(I’m Athabaskan, Alaskan native)
I honestly don’t know how to word all the feelings around that or if it’s even worth trying for or if it’s more just internalized issue that I need to work on personally and not worry so much about other peoples perceptions
Which is a bit of an identity crisis in its own way because being able to clearly articulate nuanced ideas in a meaningful way is something I’ve had grafted to my idea of self since I was a child
And I mean struggling with the reverse of this when the sun leaves and my melanin recedes with it is also really hard because instead of being conflate with the wrong minority I start to wonder if I still have one at all
Which is weird because it’s not like I turn ghost white or my hair is turns straight so it’s not like everything disappears but also those aren’t even really things that I associate at all with my native identity at all, in fact the curls are from my Irish side of the family, they’re simply things I know others use to gage my otherness
I guess I just feel I’m constantly trying to juggle having cultures that aren’t mine handed to me and then exchanged for another while never getting to really hold my own, I wanna be so careful because if either I drop or hold anything I’m handed I can easily hurt and offend people
even holding the white culture I’m actually kind of a part of feels not only disingenuous but dangerous
But there is one thing growing up like this has taught me, if all that I am can appear subjective, then why would I ever take anyone’s appraisal of my beauty as written in stone?
If all the pain, love, and knowledge passed from my ancestors to me can be mistaken for blood sweat and tears of another with the passing blase of small talk then how on earth could I take another’s word for what is or isn’t beautiful about me?
You can’t tell me my features aren’t beautiful if you don’t know who’s beauty they were born from