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Identity

For the longest time, I’ve really struggled with my identity as a young Black woman. Having lived a predominant proportion of my life in a white, conservative area and not having been overly familiar with Black spaces until I went to uni, there were a lot of things which made me question who I was. My parents have always been very good at reminding me that I’m Black and Zimbabwean, but identity goes beyond those two factors. As much as I appreciate and love my white friends, there are a lot of things about being Black they will never understand, and particular topics of discussion which can sometimes only ever reach a certain point before they become redundant.

As Black women, finding individual identity is something I think many of us have struggled with because at home its traditional roles aligned with African culture and at school/work it’s microaggressions that implicitly tell us we can’t be ourselves. Being told that you’re too loud, too confident and sometimes ‘too black’ are all things Black girls and women have been told and all things which do a lot to the mental, more than people realise, but I can only speak for myself.

Growing up, I often used to suppress myself to avoid inquisition and negative attitudes in regard to who I am as an individual. The times I did express myself in the ways that I felt I was being myself, it was often escorted with, ‘why are you acting like that?’, ‘why are you acting black?’, but tell me what is it to ‘act black’? What does one have to do to fit the description? Why can’t I be myself without it being questioned? Having lived in a predominantly white space for most of my life, my siblings and I were regularly labelled as coconuts and or oreos because we were ‘black on the outside and white on the inside’ but again, what does that mean? It was such a struggle to find my identity because people didn’t want me to be myself but to some, I wasn’t really Black enough because I didn’t behave in a way that fitted stereotypical narratives.

I know for some people, it’s hard to understand why someone chooses to suppress their personality but there a lot of things white people do not understand about black people and the lack of understanding often comes with an intense amount of inquisition. Inquisition which occasionally has you questioning yourself, questioning who you are, and you eventually learn not do certain things in front of certain people to avoid a grilling of your identity. It’s tiring beyond belief.

It wasn’t until I went to uni that I discovered more things about myself and came into my identity as a young Black woman as I was becoming increasingly more familiar with Black spaces. I had so much more in common with my newly found Black friends and unsurprisingly, they understood me more than my white friends and never questioned me as an individual.

It has honestly taken me such a long time to love the skin that I’m in because for the longest time, it was the one thing I didn’t want. I desperately wanted to have more in common with my white friends. I wanted to be able to share makeup with them, do each other’s hair, and talk about our similar upbringings, but looking back, it saddens me to think this was actually what I wanted at some point and this was the only way that I thought I could have things in common with my white friends; but things happen the way that they’re meant to and I think everything in life is part of character building, and for the record I don't want to be white anymore lmao.

Now that I've become more confident and now that I'm more in tune with my Blackness, inquisition still hasn’t left the building. Now it’s ‘when did you get so confident’, ‘OMG, you love yourself’, ‘you’re not a coconut anymore’. Even if I do love myself, what’s wrong with that? If I look peng, you’re gonna know about it. If I wanna chat to man, that’s none of your business. Are you losing sleep over the fact that Lindiwe isn’t the same person she was a year ago? The world is still going to keep spinning because you now don't like the way I carry myself.

People’s personalities and or mannerisms that you’ve created for them in your head is really a you problem. Nobody told you I was gonna stay the same for the rest of my life and nobody forced you to open your mouth before asking me if I care. A skill which a few people are yet to master, but anyway, reparations can be taken via AliExpress today; lickle one two wigs that might make me ‘too confident’. LOL, PayPal is still valid too xx.

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