What If I Don’t Fit In.

What if I don’t fit in? I think about this like everyday and you would think at my age, by now, I would love myself and that question wouldn’t be as pervasive as it is. Its weird but I think about it all the time. What if I don’t fit in the community I care so much about, the community I feel the most comfortable in. And isn’t it ironic to feel comfortable in a community that has a tendency to question my level of acceptance? Maybe I’m overthinking again, beating myself up. But by telling myself I’m overthinking it’s like I’m trying to suppress a feeling; and as human nature goes, a suppressed feeling always manages to creep back up to the surface.

What if I’m not trendy enough? Yeah that’s a real thought I have. Real superficial but really real. I think about that too like it actually matters. I’m not a superficial person, I try to keep my materialism at a low-ish level but still. I’ve grown up a tomboy with usually just enough money to keep me decent, I put food before clothes 100% of the time and it just feels like shit is a beauty contest these days, a contest that I think I’m losing in. Like our generation is the fly society, or who can be the flyest in society. I don’t have the time or money for all that to keep it real but it still does bring me some anxiety. Like even wanting to write is like a trendy thing and these days you see people that look the part getting madd exposure like it’s essential to a creative craft. Being a creative is a trend. Its so weird, but I fell for it too. I’ve always loved to write and never really thought of it as a creative thing to do until I was in college and was introduced to really using your mind for your passions. It’s intimidating. Any successful person knows that if you give your 110% and it’s genuine and good, you will reap the benefits and it’s so easy to think like that once you get past the “trying to make it” phase. It’s all very interesting to me. Just funny how humans work and think. And I think about if I were to share this freewrite people that know me will be hit me with the “Oh Alyx I accept you,”…well duh.

But like if I were to walk into a room full of Black people that didn’t know me, the response would be different. I don’t look Black, I’ve accepted that, so when I tell people what I want to do in life and in the community I care for, I get looks. Recently I got a new coworker and at this point we had been working together a couple weeks when we were talking about college and thoughts about leaving our home states. I told her I had considered an HBCU but it was too far from home for me, and she stared at me so blankly and there was a slightly awkward silence. Some time later I proceeded to talk about my experience as BSU president in college and she just bluntly asked mid-conversation if I was mixed, I told her yes, and she followed up with saying she thought I was Spanish. After I told her my ethnic makeup, our conversation about the Black community flowed with much ease. I made a mental note, proved myself right about the challenge of fitting in. It wasn’t just some symptom I diagnosed myself with, it was a real thing I had been subtly dealing with and probably will deal with for the rest of my life. There is a territorial attitude towards being Black, and rightly so; this community has been stripped of its humanity in many ways for many years, so I do get it. As a person that cares for this community how I do, with a willingness to dedicate my life to uplifting it, it’s hard to swallow that as long as I do this work I will be met with a barrier in the form of questioning my motives every single time upon entrance.

Maybe I feel like I’m not accepted or not enough because I don’t believe it in myself. And that could be halfway true. I identify as a bi-racial woman but that tag is still a little itchy for me. The “woman” part is just so grown up and I have internal struggles with adulthood. I don’t like heels or much makeup and having to dress professionally is a definite transition. I’m just really trying to find who I am and to love her, I just feel like I’m pulled in so many different directions trying to define that. I’ve never been cool enough, or trendy, or responsible even, and maybe that’s what makes me, me but I still feel like I’m missing parts of this answer.

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