I’ve never fit into the stereotypical mold that society placed before me; God forbid someone actually is different than what you see on TV. I was always the “too White” Black girl or the “Oreo” and instead of standing up for myself, I would always laugh along because I treat confrontation just like I treat adulthood…I avoid it.

I started to eventually accept it; after all I went to a predominantly White private school most of my life. I would take the “Oh Troi, you’re not really that black,” and the “I’m blacker than you because I listen to 2 Chainz and can sing all the words to “’Buy U A Drink’ ” and fake the smile that would hide my tears. Because I enjoy other music besides just rap, hip-hop, and R&B, I was automatically labeled as “not-black”. Because I didn’t talk like the “stereotypical Black person” was supposed to, I was trying to be “White”. Because I had a crush on a White guy, I was automatically trying to disassociate myself from my race. And I let that build on and on, from middle school to my freshman year of college. I let people tell me I was something that I know in my heart I am not. I kept my mouth shut while people assumed I was ashamed of my race, of my skin. Yes, my favorite band is Foster the People, yes, I talk in a different way, yes I have talked to and am dating someone who is White, but no, that doesn’t make me any less black. My blackness is not defined by who I date, what I wear, what music I listen to, who my friends are, and how I wear my hair.

My blackness is me.

That is the beauty of being black- no one is the same. We are such a fantastically diverse race with so many different looks and languages and cultures. But based off of what is shown in the media, we are all the same. This idea has infiltrated the minds of many people and has forced what is seen as the norm. That makes someone who is not a pregnant, single mother on welfare, living in the projects, whose name does not end in a –quisha, strange. That makes it weird that I speak the way I do, as some people say, I sound White. There is no “White” or “black” way of speaking. There are words that have originated from certain communities, but that does not confine someone’s speech to a race. That makes me weird for having songs like “Retrograde” by James Blake playing after “Break Up A Small Town” by Sam Hunt playing after “Sex on Fire” by Kings of Leon. Because my music isn’t confined to only a particular genre and style, I’m not Black enough. Don’t get me wrong, I can listen to A Tribe Called Quest on repeat and can give you my 100% accurate ranking of all Kanye West Albums (MBDTF and College Dropout are honestly the best don’t lie to yourself) but just because I like alternative music, that doesn’t make me any less Black. This is something that needs to be realized for every minority; what you see on TV is not us. I am not your token Black friend that you can use as an excuse to say n***a. My hair is not an experiment you can stick your hand in. My skin is not a sweet chocolaty dessert. I am proud of who I am, proud of the way my hair bends and curls in its dysfunctional manner, proud of the generations before me and the ones to come after, proud of my own generation for standing up for themselves, proud of my race. We have overcome and are overcoming so many things from slavery to segregation to the relentless and ever present system that is still against us.

I am beyond proud to be black, to have a history and a culture that is so rich and diverse. I am proud of what the generations before me have done that have allowed me to have the opportunities I have. I am proud to be me. Despite being the Eurocentric beauty standards that are demandingly present in today’s society, despite being told I’m not Black enough, despite not fitting in, I know that I am enough. Black is beautiful no matter the shade, the hair, the background we are all beautiful. It’s taken me 18 years to realize that and I’m glad I finally have. I am my own blackness and it is no better or no worse than anyone else’s.