Sometimes, I feel like a fraud. Like I’m not a “real” Black woman because my story doesn’t fit the mold. There’s a weird loneliness in that feeling—like no matter where I am, a part of me doesn’t belong.
This took me a long time to put together because I was not sure how to form the words. But now more than before, is as good a time as any. Watching this recent election season unfold, I saw so many Black women connecting, building each other up, creating solidarity online. And yet, even then, I still felt like an outsider.
I feel like this because so many of these women share their experiences and beliefs with confidence, while I’ve spent my whole life feeling like mine are so different from what’s expected in the Black community. Especially with the expectations to be faith-based. I am not a religious person. Almost everyone else is. I feel like I have to conform to it in order to fit in. I want to connect with so many, but that one factor has pushed me to disconnect or distance myself with other Black women or the Black community. In my family and even online, almost everyone I’ve met is deeply rooted in their faith. And while I respect it, the pressure to conform—to say I believe, when I just… don’t—has often made me pull back, keep a distance. It’s not just religion. Sometimes it feels like there’s an unspoken list of what it means to ‘be Black,’ and so much of it doesn’t fit with who I am.
Growing up, I felt like such an outcast. My mom put in me “all white” schools to protect me from going through what she experienced growing up. The hard part about that decision was when I wanted to follow my coach to another high school my junior year, it was a minority based school and I was dubbed the “tan colored white girl” because of how I spoke. It felt like no matter where I turned, I was either too much of one thing or not enough of another, always caught in between. Even though my parents were separated, no one could tell. They still showed up to all my track meets, sat together, and were team mom and dad to my teammates. I wasn’t the kid with only a mom, a dad, or neither parent. I had a great childhood, and my parents took me damn near everywhere. I still felt out place as the kid with both parents.
When I was a young child, I grew up in the church. Church was only fun to me because of hanging out with my cousins and singing in the choir. The religion never resonated with me. I wanted to connect, and I faked it to fit it for as long as I could, hoping it would stick. But it just didn’t, and still doesn’t. It’s an emotional tug-of-war for me between want to connect deeply with other Black women, wanting to show up authentically as who I am, and feeling awkward because when the conversations turn religious, I close up or remove myself to save myself disgrace.
Over recent years, I’ve been learning more about myself—my likes, dislikes, my spirituality, who I connect with, and who truly likes me for me.
I am:
Goofy as hell
Talkative (if you’re done talking to me, let me know 🤪)
Extrovert (I can talk to almost anybody)
I ask questions (to make sure I understand)
Curse like a sailor (because sometimes, nothing else quite fits. Especially, when it comes to sports!)
Sports fan (Track & Field, MLB, NFL, Softball)
I’m also learning to accept the things I hated about myself growing up:
Too skinny (not thick enough)
Dark circles under my eyes
Too “Black” for the white
Too “White” for the Black
Doing almost anything just to fit in (I understand why I did but I will do it no more)
Accepting these parts of me hasn’t been easy, but it’s helping me show up in my relationships—especially with other Black women—in a way that feels truer.
For the first time, I’m starting to see myself with compassion, rather than as someone who doesn’t fit. I’m learning to trust that the right people—the ones who see me as I am—will find me as I keep showing up authentically. I encourage you to reflect on your own journey and consider what expectations or labels you may be holding onto. I hope you will join me in creating a community that’s open and inclusive of all unique experiences. Let’s create a space where we can celebrate our unique paths, embrace what makes us different, and support each other in building lives that feel true to who we are.
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