While on my journey to self acceptance, I’ve learned more about myself than ever anticipated.

But, there are still parts of me I have yet to discover. One of which is the confusion that comes with being mixed. This is something I have longed to articulate, but for whatever reason, cannot find the right words.

The following is the first of many attempts.

The Concept of Me:

Grey Area

I’d be lying if I said I noticed. If I knew what it meant to be in this skin.

But all I knew was radiance. Was lovely. Was something they didn’t have. Something they couldn’t bare.

Curls rocked and swayed to the bumping of car beats, but I was still lost in the waves. In the white.

I remember being in love with February. The way its days seemed to bleed richness and culture.

I never had a culture

It was just us. And that was enough.

Until it wasn’t.

I am an identity crisis.

To be mixed

And to have only experienced it partially

Is to be confused

Is to be lost in the inbetween

And to never find your way out

I am the grey area

The line people tiptoe around to avoid stepping on eggshells

Because once you crack you can never go back

You will never know what it feels like

To be in this skin

No matter how many white flags you wave

It will never be enough

I will never be enough

Because that’s what it means to be mixed

To bleed melanin only to have it covered by white gauze

There is a war inside me

And nobody wants to play

Nobody wants to stay

Long enough to hear each other out

There is no compromise

No parts of me to get along

That’s just not how it works

You see a person can either be all or nothing

And for most of my life I’ve only ever known the ladder

But that changes today

I am neither here nor there

Because I will exist everywhere

In all realms

I will be

Simply me

Whatever that means