identity

I can’t help but feel that a part of me will always think skinnier is “better” because of the environment I grew up in. However, by appreciating the American take on body image, I’ve learned to believe that all bodies are beautiful and we should never dictate our worth based on the number on a scale.

I’ve always had a complicated relationship with my hair.

I’ve come to a point in my college career where if anyone were to deem me as a conditional choice, I would walk away and choose myself.

It’s crazy how one person can have such a big impact on someone, completely changing their life, and then suddenly become a stranger.

Coming back feels different, and I can’t help but feel like I’m a visitor in a town that’s supposed to be home. The foods I used to eat now recall the past, and I revel in those memories. 

I wonder where Black people can live in the United States that allows us to prosper, make change, feel safe and connect with a grounded community and culture. More importantly, can Black people explore a life that is not defined by the oppression that we’ve endured and continue to suffer from?

From this simple reconnection to Korean culture, I caught a glimpse of what could’ve been if I hadn’t run away.

What constitutes a person's identity if they are separated into two different bodies, two different brains? And if there are two versions of a person, then who’s the real one?

Throughout everything, I never wanted to dye or change my hair and have always made a lot of effort to take care of it. My hair color is a part of me and who I am, which is why I would never want to get rid of it.

But as I look to the future, I no longer see a paved path, a step-by-step guide to success, a daunting picture of who I should become. Instead, I see many potential paths, and in all of them, the path is open-ended.