I think I might be having an identity crisis. Is that okay to say as a 20-year-old who is supposed to already know herself? I don't care whether it is right or not. The reason why I am having the identity crisis in the first place is because I care too much about what others think about me. See, I've always prided myself in not caring what people think about me, but I surely cannot escape the judging. It is always piercing my skin.

I don't know whether I am a Somali or an American. Now before you roll your eyes and tell me it is an easy distinguish I just want to tell you it is NOT. See I was not born in Somalia nor was I born in America, but my parents were both born in Somalia, and both are Somalis. A lot of people say, well then you are a Somali, but it is not that simple.

I was born in Saudi Arabia, and no I do not consider Saudi Arabian because I did not spend enough time there. I also lived in Somalia for two years which is not long enough to call it home. At about the age of six, I came to America and have been here ever since.

The first few years living in America were easy because I considered myself to be American. My family was the only Somali family in town, so it was easy to fit in and just belong for the most part. The next years after that got to be a bit different. Somalis started migrating to my small town by the dozens. Families were settling in and I began to have classmates that finally looked like me. Eventually, my American friends started associating me with the Somalis. They said I did not belong with them and I should stick with the people that looked like me. No matter how hurt I was, I agreed and thought they were right, so I tried making friends with the Somalis. To say I was not welcomed is an understatement. They told me I was too "Americanized" and simply too "westernized" to ever truly belong with them. They said I barely spoke Somali and could not even keep a conversation with them. There were so many things we did not agree on.

I began to have no idea as to where in the hell I belong. The Somalis did not accept me. The Americans who once accepted me did not anymore. Around this same time I was always asking my mom why we moved to this country. I told her I was isolated and just way too different to fit in.

I felt so alone, unloved, and unwelcome for many years. I did not know what my true identity was. To be honest, I am not sure what my identity is now. Why did I not fit in with the Somalis? I mean I look like them, and I speak some Somali. Why did I not fit in with the Americans? I spoke English, and I knew all the cool things that everyone was into.

I am never going to feel like I belong in any group truly, but my mom told me to take the best of both worlds and make it my own. So, for now, I am taking the best of both my worlds to overcome this crisis, and I have already made a huge improvement.