Unfortunately I grew up in a household that suppressed dialogue on my race. I am German/Latino/Native. My parents raised me to believe that I was German because my father was German. When I inevitably questioned if I was South American because my mom is South American, the answer was no. Even though my dad was rarely home and I was more influenced by my mom’s culture! I spoke Spanish as a child but then forgot it since my mom stopped speaking it to me, since German was “more important.”
My Latin family fetishized me for my blonde hair, blue eyes, and pale skin. It was when my hair started turning dark that the compliments grew silent. My mom didn’t even explain to me that the brown people I was saw when we made our trips were not family friends but in fact my family. The history is complicated because it involves genocide and we could only recently openly identify but no one even explained to me my family is native. Not just mixed, but we-know-what-tribe-we’re-from-and-we-practice-the-culture-native!
There were so many effects of my poor upbringing. I grew up not knowing how to do my hair because curly hair is “bad.” I had and still am having a very hard time coping with generational trauma because instead of me being gradually introduced to it, it just got thrown at me when I finally was old enough to start asking the right questions. (don’t get me started on not being told I’m jewish through my mom’s side and finding out when I was 18 that almost all of my Eastern European family was murdered in the Holocaust! Definitely a mindfuck when you’re half German)
The truth is I love all of my cultures. I just wish one of them hadn’t been crammed down my throat. I’d have way less issues had I been brought up with a full understanding and acceptance of my family history. I’m starting therapy tomorrow with the explicit intent of figuring my shit out.