I often think of myself as a walking question mark, posing an unanswerable question to those around me: what am I?
Growing up, I never knew what I was. It was easy to see that my mom and dad had different backgrounds, but I did not know what that made me.
As I was slowly immersed into my Indian heritage, I came face-to-face with the origins of my mixed-race identity crisis. I loved my South Asian background, but it did not seem to love me back. I craved acceptance among my Indian family and friends, but my lighter skin tone and ambiguous features acted as a wall between us.
I just wanted to be Indian. I wanted the world to perceive me as this and only this. I thought that if I became tanner, I could fit in. Maybe, if I learned more about my culture, I could be included. Because I could never take my South Asian identity for granted, I poured myself into becoming the most Indian I could be. My Bharata Natyam classes taught me about Hindu mythology; I discovered a love for Bollywood movies and songs; I became interested in learning about the Indian Subcontinent. All of these factors became a huge part of my identity, yet, I was still not considered Indian by those around me.
As I began high school, my understanding of the world began to change. I began to comprehend the idea of perception and how my features play a role in the way others perceive my identity. I realized that my desire to be only Indian would not be a reality in the way I was approaching it. Rather, I had to accept my multiracial background and be confident in all of me. Soon, the idea of fully claiming both my Indian and white heritage was no longer daunting. Instead, it empowered me to look past people’s confusion when I presented my background.
Now, I wish I could say that I have been cleansed of my forgone dream. There are still times when I am in a majority South Asian space and wish that my presence there would not be questioned. Though, now, I know how to answer those questions, I still think about a world in which they did not exist at all. Regardless, I have found myself able to codeswitch well in such circumstances. When around other Indians, I make sure to properly pronounce my name so that they can see that I am like them. I try to introduce my background as quickly as possible so that the conversation can move on from it and we can focus on more important topics. My goal is to quickly find areas of likeness so that our personal differences are overshadowed.
When it comes to family, I am the only mixed-race individual on both sides. Moreover, because I am an only child, I do feel a sense of loneliness sometimes. Though I have found much support externally within the multiracial community, I do not think it can ever be the same as if I could find support within my own relatives. Though they are generally kind, I have definitely experienced some discomfort from comments like “you look white” or individuals not really being able to pronounce my name. While I have moved past all of these moments, they will always live on in my memory as reminders of what, or who, I am missing.
My journey to find belonging has not been an easy one. It is very much still in progress, and I do not know if and when it will end. My only understanding of where I truly belong is nowhere, and everywhere. My mixed-race identity offers me a truly rare opportunity to be a chameleon, adjusting my colors to my environment. All I can be is unapologetically me.
Read other essays similar to Rahul’s experience as a multiracial individual in “Mixed Desis: Stories of Multiracial South Asians.”