Assumptions

Imagine spinning around and around while gripping a carpeted wall.

The blurs of faces and occasional glimpse of sky soon all melt together into one.

 Sometimes the world goes completely dark, the floor drops out from underneath and nausea begins to come on.

At other times, the ride slows down and the faces of friends on the other side become clear. When the ride stops, the dizzy swagger off and the few minutes afterwards are confusing.

The location and time are muddled.

 

Imagine being from two worlds and not knowing where to go.

A hidden immigrant in one, a misunderstood foreigner in the other.

I fit where I do not blend in, while I blend in where I do not fit.

People assume about my identity, but never truly figure out who I am

Because I do not know who I am.

 

I have been told who I am.

People tell me that being from multiple cultures means that I am messed up,

Never to be fixed.

“Oh people like you,” they say.

“Your whole life will be a crisis.”

I have been scolded for my own background.

 

My life is a blur of plane rides and new faces

Life drastically changing in the course of a day

Never having any assurance of stability.

People misunderstanding me,

Offering help but to no avail,

I will never fit in anywhere.

 

However, life is not all despair.

I am realizing that there is hope in the searching,

Light in the confusion.

My life must be heading somewhere

 

Suddenly, it all becomes clear; assumptions do not define me.

Here, standing in the midst of a crowd of people

I realize that the childhood I experienced is only a blink in the eternity of my life.

I choose my own identity, beyond people’s opinions.

I am my own person.

Their assumptions do not affect who I am at all.

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