labels, self-discovery and change
processing my feelings about growing, changing and living authentically
Are you afraid of changing?
I am. Or, at least I think I am.
As humans, we are inherently community driven - humans need other humans to survive. We need interaction, communication and physical touch from others; not only for physical needs but also psychological survival. Because we are social beings, we need to be able to depend on those around us to be able to survive the harsh, extreme circumstances of the world around us and this need has evolved with the evolution of technology, which has allowed us to better connect and communicate with each other.
So, with this in mind, it is no surprise that many humans want to be able to fit in and relate to those around them - it’s a psychological need to get along with other humans. This is why, I think, it’s easy for us to put arbitrary labels on people. Labeling allows us to better understand something because our brains really cannot comprehend abstract ideas or topic that much, especially these days. It is easier to be look at a person and be able to immediately categorize them into a predetermined label that can make it easier for you to understand them, for example, seeing a woman dress like a man, you may already categorize them and say “oh she must be gay” and vice versa for men - a man could be wearing something inherently deemed ‘feminine’ and one might immediately think “oh he’s gay”. It’s a way for the brain to be able to understand what is being presented in front of them but what if the labels do more harm than good?
For most of my life, I have always had a label attached to me. When I was around 10, I had the label of the ‘weird kid’ because I loved anime and playing with my Bakugan and actually running around and playing make believe with my best friend. Growing up, I had also been given the label of ‘sensitive’ and ‘emotional’, which led me to believing that showing emotions was a sign of weakness; it’s not cool to cry or to care and yet I wanted to do it all the time. In high school, elders around me attached the label of ‘fat’ because I had grown and had some weight added to me but I was also just a teenager. Along with teenagerhood came the label of ‘coconut’ - a euphemism for someone who may appear black on the outside but acts like their white counterparts. This one was the worst.
That is one label I cannot ever seem to drop and it’s caused me immense pain, trying to reconcile how I felt about my Blackness and how those around me felt. It felt like I could never acclimate because I wasn’t ‘black enough’, ‘I can’t speak my native language’ or ‘I sound white’. The last two being factors that were not in my control and thus cannot really be put against me, however they come up when trying to find a connection with other humans. It is frustrating because whilst I may feel that I am black and am proud of myself, labels like this get thrown back at me and make me feel inferior to other Black people as a result and I hate it. I hate getting put down because people assume I have no understanding of cultural and societal things that happen in other cultures, and even if I don’t, explaining without judgement is not hard. This is just one of the issues that I have found with labeling especially in the Black context in which I live. Labels help our brains understand things (there’s no denying that), whether they are harmful or not; I think it’s super important for us to acknowledge that some labels may just be perpetuating certain stereotypes and that a label that you give on a person, without even getting to know or understand them, can lead you to making a biased opinion on them, which can be detrimental.
For the last year, in therapy, I have been trying to rid myself of the labels that have been placed upon me by others, the labels that haunt my narrative and that make me feel chained to the identity that others have constructed about me. I have been having an identity crises; this is very much due to the fact that in 2023, I discovered something new and unfamiliar about myself. Something that, looking back on it, I was relatively familiar with for a long time before it actually came full force to me in that year. This new realization about myself felt scary, daunting and so freeing. I was scared because now, everything seemed different, I seemed different and now I was not acting the same way that people were used to, and the previous labels and boxes people had put me in did not feel the same anymore. I could not relate. I don’t think I ever did. I had tried so hard (and for most of my life) to fit into the boxes and labels that would allow me to fit in and be accepted by other people because I needed that. Acceptance. I needed it like a drug. It gave me a high because for most of my life I could not accept myself.
Accepting myself is scary; it means I am different. It means I may not belong to the group that I thought I did, it means that people may not accept me and may not want to be around me. It’s terrifying to think about but I cannot help thinking that things finally make more sense.
I’ve been dealing with the contradictory fact that whilst I was navigating this time of self-discovery, a label has been very useful in understanding myself more, understanding others who are similar and also getting closer with people who hold space for me and all my changes. It’s a frustrating thing - on the one hand, I want to be free of all labels and just exist and on the other, I find solace in a label that allows me to better understand myself and relate with people more. I can’t help but think that maybe I’m scared of labels and accepting some of those truths because of what it could bring: ostracization.
I am terrified of being not accepted and being alone and feeling like being myself was a mistake - truth is, it’s always felt like being myself was a mistake. Being made fun of, directly or indirectly, will do that to you. I have spent the entirety of my adolescence molding into a shell of myself that would not be ostracized and it quite literally broke me. I put myself into a cage, mentally and physically and I couldn’t break out. I would use those peers as a benchmark and as a standard for how to be to achieve a certain result and perception, especially when it came to men, but that’s another story all together*.
To be honest, I only think I’ve properly started accepting myself in 2023, when this new revelation came into my mind and I accepted it. For a brief moment in time, I felt as though I had finally found it - myself, and I couldn’t have been happier; then I got thrust into a new environment and it made me feel different. All those past labels came back to haunt the forefront of my mind along with some new ones; for the first time, I had something come into question and that brought me so much more confusion: my femininity.
I felt feminine. I am feminine. I don’t think my lack of wearing skirts or dresses makes it less than and yet, I had felt like maybe I’m not feminine enough. Which is false.
I had already gone through an internal discussion with myself about what femininity means to me and had found a way of presenting that felt true to that but being in an environment that kind of was “confused” (I guess, the only word that pops to mind) about what I was presenting made me confused and thus I have to start the process all over again.
And now, I’m here. Scared of change; or rather, scared of changing in the eyes of others. I know how I want to be, act, present. And, ever since 2023, I can actually say that I like myself. So why am I so scared of people not accepting me for it?
I suppose it’s a thought I should elaborate on and perhaps I’m still trying to fully be myself in all aspects of like and I can say that much is true. Because, being yourself is scary, it’s terrifying and daunting but I can tell you now, it’s also the most liberating thing in the world.
Whilst I know I’m not fully there, I do try to add little pockets of liberation into my interactions with the world; to truly try and be myself and I wouldn’t be able to be where I am without my support system. I have people who helped me a lot with this, especially during a time when I actively hated myself, and they have helped me hate myself less and allowed me to hold compassion for myself especially as this new version. I have my mother and brother, who still treat me as they always have and whose love is never ending and who remind me, at the end of the day: I’m just a person who is trying to live, so I should at least be happy haha.
I think turning 25 has solidified my resolve to live more authentically as myself, especially because I have spent 22 of my life hiding away but it’s fine that I did, because I was still changing and learning so much about myself; I was that girl who didn’t know what was going on, who cried everyday in her university apartment, who thought she was going crazy cause of mental illness, who got sick, who got her heart broken in more ways than one and the list goes on. I was her. I am her. I changed once and I’ll change again. I still deserved love and I deserve it now. And, the people around me (the ones that mattered) stayed. And the ones who matter will continue to stay. My mother still loves me which is a privilege all on its own and I have met some of the greatest people whilst being myself.
So, while I’m still scared of fully being myself, I will never stop trying because I think who I am now is pretty cool and that has to count for something.
* I’m working on a piece on love and stuff, look forward to that!
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much love xx




beautiful babe I wish you luck on your journey 🩷