Part 1: Too White?

Growing up in Cambridge, Massachussetts, I was lucky to grow up in a diverse community. Blacks, Asians, Latinos, West Indians, desis, white people.. we had everything. But growing up with no desi role models, no older Pakistani girls to look up to, I was confused. Every ethnic group had its style, its habits, and its own vernacular. We did go to the mosque but to a mostly Arab mosque. The hijabi girls were all close and I always felt a bit judged for not covering my hair, but then again, it’s not really typical for Pakistanis. In my formative years I wanted to be like everyone else because I didn’t know what mold I fit into. I would to dress like the black girls, talk like the Latinas. I was confused. I only knew within my Pakistani identity the only place to find community was within the mosque but I never really felt connected and had no interest in being a hijabi to connect with other girls.

Then even worse, we ended up moving to a very white town for my high school years. When I moved there I thought I had figured it out. I would wear Aeropostle, American Eagle and Abercrombie clothes — if they were ever on sale, that is. I straightened my hair and strove to look like my white peers. The pretty girls, flawless, childlike, hairless, blonde girls. I tried to be like them.

I have a painful memory that still haunts me of being so desperate to fit in that I woke up at 4am because I had to straighten my hair only because that’s what everyone around me looked like and that was my only ideation of looking good. These were my ideals of beauty: white beauty. Post freshmen year I began to figure out my style and embrace it. I liked being different and wearing crazy jewelry and sometimes matching my eyeshadow to the color of my top. I had a diverse group of friends because we were the only women of color. We were Pakistani, Puerto Rican, Dominican, and Nigerian.

The pieces began to fit. My style, my beauty, my personality. Me.

Part II: Too Brown?

In high school there was a desi group but for some reason I couldn’t fit into this group because they were too religious and “brown” for me. They were the type of desis who would say Mashallah and Inshallah in between sentences of talking about the future or their accomplishments. Nothing is wrong with this but it just wasn’t in my habits to say the same. It made me cringe. I felt like they were trying to put on a facade to impress each other and wear their religion on their sleeve. As if, who was more religious based on how many times they could say inshallah?! They had dinner parties and get togethers, and had all grown up together. It was a sort of brown clique that I never understood and from the beginning felt distant from. On top of that, because I had a weird sense of style and loved thick eyeliner and dressing up I thought I came off as somewhat of a “bad girl” to them. One that moms would not want their daughters to hang around.

I tried to be friends, but when I wanted to talk about “normal” teenage things like boys, studies, desires, and gossip over who was dating who, it was like talking to a wall. No one felt the same way or even if they did they would never admit it because no one wanted to be too American. It was isolating, and I felt like maybe I was bad. Maybe I was being too white for my own good. On the other hand I was infuriated because I looked around me and felt so normal with my school friends. I wasn’t doing drugs or having sex. We were innocent, we crushed on boys and tried sips of beer occasionally when someone’s parents weren’t home.

I don’t know why this group of desis and I could never mesh. Maybe it was me, or maybe it was them. As the years have passed, I have seen on Facebook many of them getting married with several bridesmaids and groomsmen — a whole crew. An entire fucking posse of people who have grown up together. The grooms have their boys to do their dances and walk them in parade style. While the bride has her best friends in matching colors, all dancing in sync to the top 40 and Bollywood fusion hit songs that the aunties loved.

I look at these pictures and videos and feel two ways, confused and sad. Sad because it’s inaccessible to me, and confused because I don’t know if I want that. I didn’t grow up with that insular brown community. I won’t have a crew where everyone knew each other and everyone had dated or hooked up with one another. I am a child of blended communities and have always been trying to figure out which group I belonged to.

Throughout college (a post for another time!) I have become comfortable with my identity. Although I am still piecing together my Pakistani identity, it is comforting to know there other brown girls who have felt “bad” growing up (shoutout to my SHEzaadi co-founder Sabeen Khan!) and that there was nothing wrong with me.

We have all been confused and maybe it’s easier to gravitate toward religion because, in our communities, being religious is a guaranteed community. Maybe my wedding won’t be full of desi guy and girl friends who have known me and each other forever. I am happier knowing I had all these experiences that melted together and I am a mosaic of all the cultures I grew up around. I am still figuring it out, and that’s okay.