On Being Racially Ambiguous… The B-Side

Now that I’ve landed at Voltron and my growing baby CASSIUSlife.com, I’m staying true to an idea I had awhile ago to share some additional color from stories that I left on the cutting room floor. Some things I’ll share here are pieces cut for editing purposes, and I’ll use this place for the thought process behind some of my ideas.

My first piece for my new home is for my First Person series, where everyday people and celebrities can share their own compelling stories and experiences in their own words. If you’ve followed my writing for some time, you’ll know that I like to share stories on multicultural identity, but I haven’t written about my own story in quite some time. I grow tired of sharing the “I was told my mother is bad because she doesn’t like Black men” story that happened in pre-school so often — I think we all get the picture on just how painful that can be, but I’m no victim. My mom is dope and used that moment to share such a wonderful “love everyone the way you want to be loved” message that has shaped my interactions with people.

In my story, “First Person: My Race May Be Ambiguous to You But I’m Clear On Who I Am,” I focused on deconstructing the term “ambiguous,” and why that word totally does apply to the way I identify. I love that focus because it makes the experience bigger than me, which is what my work is all about — there’s a bigger world out there, I’m just a drop in the tapestry.

But I first tackled this essay with a free write, and it uncovered pain I never verbalized. I have a hard time embracing my own beauty, because I was told at a young age that any type of ownership or enjoyment of my looks would make me “an uppity light-skinned girl.” I was told that I should never ever be caught flipping my hair, because I would become that self-centered person I was destined to become. And so I shrunk. And my shoulders slumped. And my voice got softer.

Realizing where that wallflower behavior began has empowered me to own my space, and myself. We internalize so many of the messages we receive daily, and for that reason I try to make my interactions with people I encounter warm and pleasant. But I deserve to give some of that love to myself. And that’s really what I learned from my piece.