The People I Lost When I Finally Embraced My Mixed-Race Heritage

When people come into your life, it’s easy to think that the connection will last forever. The thing is, no matter what age you are, or the stage of life you’re in, there will constantly be people coming into your life, and then voluntarily exiting. It took me a long time to be okay with people leaving. I used to feel the worst weight in my chest whenever I would sever ties with a person who used to know my worst scars, or even when anyone I once knew would unfollow me on social media. My head would fill with thoughts of what I did wrong, how I’m too loud, too stubborn, I overshare, I’m too much, or not enough. There was a hurricane in my chest anytime someone left my life, and it would take everything out of me. That’s why it hurt tremendously when it felt as if I started losing an influx of people once I began embracing my mixed heritage (half Black and half white) and speaking up about Black issues.

I have constantly created myself around what other people want me to be. If they needed a listener, I would be docile; if they needed to laugh, I’d become the life of the party; Even if they needed someone to be the brunt of every joke, I would willingly offer myself up. Being a social creature was a game to me, and all relationships were built on false dynamics. This is why I would also be quiet about my race, my sexuality, and my beliefs, until last year. 

In the face of the Black Lives Matter movement last year, everything I believed about myself was challenged. I would rarely speak on human rights issues in front of others, or on social media, due to the fear of others viewing it as political and not agreeing. This was tested when the unjust killing of black people was at the forefront of everything last year. I was filled with rage, angry at myself for ever letting my race become something I didn’t speak about when it was something I should be proud of, and angry at the mistreatment of black and brown people. I began posting about #BlackLivesMatter, as many others did, but I also posted and wrote about my own personal experiences that I had been quiet about previously. It felt liberating to finally speak about experiences I had encountered in my life. I had stories about everything, from a childhood of feeling neglected for my race, to my college sorority, where I was picked apart by individuals for what I perceived to be racist motivations. It all flooded out of me, because I didn’t want to be docile, and I felt empowered to create something better so young BIPOC and mixed children would not grow up with some of the traumatizing racist instances that I had.

This quickly became one of the most eye-opening moments in my life for multiple reasons. I realized that my personal stories, and speaking up on racial issues, was something that made some people angry. Many people from high school unfollowed me, and so did people from college. I found that people were fine with a white person posting #BlackLivesMatter, but if a BIPOC person spoke about their personal experiences, they were being “difficult” or “argumentative”. With the added isolation of the international pandemic, I felt like I was losing more people than I could have imagined.

There were people in my life who I thought would always be behind me, who suddenly did not care. I viewed these losses as a tragedy, and that hurricane in my chest was bigger than ever. I felt as if I would die if people didn’t like me, and I began deleting things from my social media, I stopped writing articles on my experiences, and I went back to being quiet. I was back to my typical self – a pile of clay that people could mold into what they wanted. But that wasn’t who I wanted to be. Correction, that wasn’t who I was. Who I was, and who I am, is someone who is passionate, and cares about the world around her. I am someone who would do anything for the people I care about, and who still has amazing friends and a family who loves me. I am strong, and I am learning to be okay with being an authentic human being with who not everyone will agree. I am mixed-race and proud of that, and I will never stop speaking about who I am.

I used to believe that if I did not sculpt myself into what other people wanted me to be, I would lose everyone around me. And I guess part of that is true. When I stopped looking at life from a superficial point of view where the main goal was to be liked, I did lose people. The thing is, the people I lost were the ones I never really had in the first place. If they were uncomfortable by me finally acknowledging my mixed-race experiences, or uncomfortable about acknowledging their own racist behaviors, then they were not worth my time. Maybe they never truly cared, but they obviously didn’t care enough to stick around and see the authentic me. Another thing I learned is that social media is not real life. Many of the people who claim to support BIPOC people on their social media do not actually do the work in real life, and would rather ignore their own racist tendencies. When I wrote about the experiences that I perceived as racist in an attempt to educate others, some people in my life chose to silently stand by the perpetrators, and that told me everything I needed to know.

My relationships with the people who have stayed in my life have deepened beyond comparison as I have let myself show who I am on the inside. I am still working to be comfortable and confident with standing up for what I believe in, but I won’t diminish my presence in the world anymore for people who can not handle who I am. Maybe I am too much, but I would rather be too much than a person who only lives to please other people.