When I was younger, I was an impulsive liar.
They were never heavy lies. I would just say “I like red” when I really liked blue. Or that I was Spanish/Japanese instead of American/Japanese. (Japanese kids ccould never tell foreigners apart anyway.) These lies were my self-defence and survival. Japanese girls weren’t allowed to be like me back then and growing up in Japan, being “Japanese” was everything. I did everything to fit in, but in the same time, I wanted to exert myself as being different, becasue I knew that I would never be accepted no matter how hard I tried. So I lied when they made innocent statements about me that were true. Like, “You like blue don’t you?” I would impulsively deny their observations. I didn’t want them to know me, I felt that the more they knew the more leverage they had, leverage to hurt me. Such a strange child, I know. But I was constantly on guard back then.
“What color do you like?”
It wasn’t until I moved to the US at age 15 that I realized I had lied about my identify to the point where I myself no longer knew the truth. And in a country that has no strict definition of what a girl should be(less of a definition in contrast to Japan at the time). I struggled to find the “right” asnwer. My peers frowned when I couldn’t answer the simplest questions.
“What color do you like?”
It’s been 15 years since I was hit with this hard truth and let me tell you, digging up your true identity when you never allowed yourself to form one, was a struggle. A struggle I still deal with today.
I still don’t know what my favorite colors is and for the longest time I was ashamed about this fact. For being an undefinable creature that could never give a satisfactory answer…
But today as I wandered into a quaint vintage store in Tokyo I realized something special. The store was filled with colors, not only colors but funky patters, like florals, bicycles, ladybugs and many more. My heart did a little dance when I entered and that’s when I realized that I don’t need a favorite color becasue I’d love it if my closet looked like this store, like a closet full of jellybeans. I realized that I don’t have a favorite color, because I have an appreciation for multiple colors. I realized that I want to be surrounded by colors that make me happy and there is no need for me to limit my happiness by choosing a favorite one.
I know it may be silly that I wrote a whole thing on this, but to me this applies to everything. It’s a small realization, but a huge victory towards my battel against the idea of what I “should” be. An idea that is so heavy and binding. A tiny leap that leads me one step closer to reach a more authentic me.
Sometimes the world’s definition doesn’t fit you and that’s ok. Because you are not defined by others. I don’t know who needs to hear this, but in case you do, I hope that you are able to wear your favorite color(s) and wear it/them with great pride as they are your identity. And should you find your self in an environment that hinders your shine, I hope that you have the courage to find/create your own tribe. You are you. Embrace the human you were born to be.
And if you’re struggling like I am, don’t you dare give up. Because you are meant for great things and if I can do it, so can you.
Thank you always for reading.
~Today’s random ramblings by yours truly ~
