JUPITER, FL—For those who have made it out of their hometown, some of us dread returning.

During the BLM movement and the rise of Trump I realized a lot of people who I thought cared about me truly didn’t. Trump 2020 flooded my timeline. For the first time I understood that I was not one of them.

Growing up I never really thought about race. I just wanted to fit in with the people around me. After transferring to a more diverse high school my sophomore year, I had a revelation; I spent my whole life hiding who I was. I wanted to be liked so badly by people who deep down hated my community. I deviated from my culture and wore a mask 24/7.

It all started in the first grade: I wanted to change my middle name. Every day I would write on my paper, Ashley Brittney Gonzalez. I was so embarrassed of having a middle name that was deemed different. As I got older it simply turned into me just not having a middle name.

By the age of 10 I was going to get my hair blown out every two weeks. I wanted it pin straight. Just like my friends’ hair at school. My mom used to do my hair every day for school. Braids, twists, puffs. I hated it because no one else wore their hair like that. I hated that my hair didn’t flow in the wind like the other girls. I remember going to the water fountain constantly throughout the day to wet my hair to mask the frizz. By middle school I was straitening my hair every day for school.

The more I could morph myself into them the more they accepted me. I ignored my blackness for the longest time. Only identifying with my Hispanic side and drumming up my complexation to me just being really tan. I casted myself in the role of being the token black friend without even knowing it.

I am privileged. I was the digestible black girl. They looked at me as if I was an anomaly. As if black girls couldn’t be well spoken or put together. Me being able to read and write at high levels or afford the things that they could was such a rare thing.

The boys never chose me. I was told how beautiful I was in private but when it came to group settings I was always ignored. “I like you but my parents wouldn’t allow me to date you”, as if that was supposed to be endearing to me. Being overlooked by your peers can be extremely detrimental to your self-esteem. I found myself constantly trying to figure out what was wrong with me.

Fast forward a few years, I met some of my best friends during my sophomore year of high school. For the first time in my life, I had black friends. It was such an important learning experience for me but they shaped me into who I am today. They helped me understand that being black is beautiful. Taking me under their wing and opening my eyes to world that I tried to get away from growing up.

With growth came despair. The people whom I spent my youth with were no longer there. I needed to but the old Ashley to rest. In doing so, I was no longer the person they wanted me to be.

Going home now is the reminder of the part of me who died. The girl who loved the opinions of others more than she loved herself.

For those who have gone through something similar, be proud of who you are. Being in closer proximity to whiteness does not make you better than anyone. Playing a character that you think the people around you will enjoy is not acceptance. Do not make yourself tolerable for anyone. People who truly love you will appreciate you at face value.

Most importantly love yourself. Our journeys are all different. Sometimes it’s hard to comprehend the heartache we go through but everything happens for a reason. Life experiences good or bad shape you into the person you are today.

Author: Ashley Gonzalez

Date:March 5, 2023