Belonging never came easy to me.
As a child of Indian immigrants in a mostly white neighborhood, I learned early how to move between worlds. To my white classmates, I was that Indian girl with smelly lunches. Within Brown circles, I was “too white-washed” and struggled with being told I wasn’t Indian enough. How could I be called a derogatory name if none of my family wasn’t from Pakistan? What would be Indian enough? The weight of these inconsistencies was hard to let go because nobody seemed to have the answers. I was just being told by everyone how I didn’t quite fit in with them.
To add onto cultural identity struggles, I sensed a freedom with boys that I didn’t quite have being the eldest girl in my family, which in turn made me feel uncomfortable around girls. For years, I carried that outsider feeling everywhere. It’s hard to feel like you truly matter when certain comments and attitudes remind you that you’re different. Showing up felt like performing, not being. No matter what I tried, it never felt authentic.
A course I took in university really helped shift this struggle for me. Mediations of Identity cracked open the truth: identity isn’t fixed. It is an accumulation of experiences; different selves you carry, all wrapped around a core that is you. And everyone’s identity is unique to them. That shift changed everything. It shaped how I started to see myself. It wasn’t about conformity and trying to fit into a neat little box. It was about showcasing everything that has brought me to this moment and accepting that we’re never going to truly fit into these labelled boxes.
And it shapes how I am learning to navigate motherhood and parenting now. What I have learned is this: we don’t live in extremes; everything is a spectrum. Balance means letting my core self-lead. The self that values genuine authenticity. The self that believes in curiosity. The self that wants my daughter to know herself first, before she lets others in her space.
That does not mean it is easy. When you stop conforming to the labels people expect, conversations can get uncomfortable. Some people aren’t used to challenging stereotypes and you can spend a bit of time feeling like you’re defending yourself. But stepping into yourself, fully and unapologetically, makes space for others to do the same. It’s hard to believe that multiple truths can exist at the same time.
Motherhood has only amplified that truth. Now I am not just one thing. I am a mother (add on to a mixed-race child for added complexity). A partner. A daughter. A writer. A person still figuring it out. At first, I thought these roles were competing. But now I see them as threads in a braid: distinct, but stronger together. What intersectionality is at its finest.
Identity, to me, is not a mask I wear. It is a braid I keep weaving, tighter, looser, longer, stronger. Each thread adds texture. Each strand brings me closer to the self I have always been, even when I could not see her. But underneath all of it, my core remains whole. That steadiness excites me. It makes the shifting less about performance and more about possibility.
And maybe that is the point. Belonging was never about fitting in. It was about learning to hold all my threads and weaving them into something that feels like home.
