Where are you from?
It is a question that has haunted me for as long as I can remember. Are you asking me where I live? Or what my country of residence is? Or are you asking about my roots? It is a question that can help us categorize people. And it’s a perfectly normal question, because people are always looking for ways to connect with each other. These questions will help you discover what you do and don’t have in common.
When I was feeling witty I would answer: home. It was my way to shut the conversation down. The question made me feel uncomfortable, because it made me aware of the differences between myself and the people asking me. I noticed that Dutch people didn’t ask each other: where are you from? The question seemed to come to me and kids with foreign roots. And as children we want to be the same, relatable and easy to make friends with. In a childs mind, the worst thing that can happen is to be perceived as different: to be the odd one out. And that is what I started to believe about myself. That I didn’t fit in. It was confronting and harsh. So I started to avoid this question whenever it came up. I didn’t want to be put in a category. I prefered to connect with people without being aware of the labels we wear. The moment you put a label on someone, you can either accept or reject each other based on a superficial side of our identity. Aren’t we so much more than the place where we (or our parents) were born? Wouldn’t you rather be seen for the unique qualities within you? Of course we learn a lot from our parents, family and the customs of our country of origin. We take on the traditions and rituals that we feel suit us. And in my opinion, that’s what makes a diverse society so incredibly beautiful. And I’m proud to be part of that. You learn that there is more than 1 way to look at life. But who are you without all these labels? What is special about the rawest version of you? What is it about you that you want people to notice? What defines you? At what level would you like to connect with people?
I am Dutch and Tunisian. I am proud of my roots and along the road I have learned to integrate the beauty of both cultures within my identity. I was born and raised in the Netherlands. And I lived in Tunisia for a short while. I experienced life in the countryside, and studied in the capital of Tunis with all of her chaos and beauty. All these life experiences have left their mark on my identity. This may appear as a good summary of a happy life. But by all means, it was anything but easy. I struggled for a long time with the question: Where are you from? Cause in my experience, in most cases, people were asking about my roots. And I love my roots, but the reaction I received when they learned about my heritage, was not always positive. Once it becomes clear what that answer is, you fit into a certain ‘box’. In my case there was always a lack of clarity about which box I’d fit into, because of my two nationalities.
And then I would be asked: ‘Are you more Dutch or Tunisian?’ Even in that question, I could hear a slight preference, just in the tone of their voice. A small wish for what my answer would be. And that question could have come from a family member, a fellow student, or just a random stranger. Whoever asked me this question, I always felt torn and stressed. And that’s because I didn’t know what to say. But that felt stupid. Cause if I didn’t even know who or what I was, then who would? I assumed that the people who asked me this question, would at least be able to answer the same for themselves. Which in hindsight is very unlikely, but at that time I just thought that I was the only person who was so clueless about their identity. It made me feel lost and inadequate, for not knowing this part of myself. So I would say that I can’t be split in 2 and that I’m an absolute mix of both worlds. But then that was never really a satisfying answer, cause that still would make me hard to categorize. Sometimes people would feel compelled to answer the question for me: ‘I think you are more Dutch’ or ‘I think you’re more Tunisian’. To be honest, I didn’t know the answer to that question at all. I just knew that I was a girl like any other trying to grow up and find her way in life. And when people made assumptions about the answer, I always felt very confused. I thought, how can they see that if I don’t know the answer to that question myself? I was constantly searching for places to find bits and pieces of my identity, since it seemed to be such a recurring theme in my life. Which community did I feel more comfortable with? What kind of people did physically look like me? It was daunting, and even gave me anxiety and depression. My focus was on the outer world, rather than myself.
The one thing I was always painfully aware of as a child, was that I was different from the kids in my class. Different from the Dutch children. And different from the children with foreign roots. Neither ‘group’ saw me as one of them. I felt awful about that and started to believe that I was not good enough, not whole enough to connect with people, or to be relatable at all. To have anything in common that was positive. And that pattern carried on wherever I went into the world. I didn’t belong anywhere. When I was in Tunisia, I was perceived as a Dutch girl to the locals and to my family. My family would comment and say that my features looked so European. This is true, but they didn’t know how much that crushed me. What I heard (and by all means what they definitely not meant) was: you don’t look like us and therefore you’re not one of us. And that belief made me feel terribly lonely. For example, when my Tunisian family and I would go to the market, they asked me to put on my shades so the salesmen would not notice my lighter eyes. Cause they charge a higher price for tourists, and that was how people perceived me: a tourist. I had to physically hide parts of myself to fit in, to be treated equally. It made me self conscious of my physical appearance. I realize that this may sound like something insignificant to whoever reads this. But this was not an isolated incident in my adolescence. This was a pattern that started in my childhood and kept on replaying itself, well into my adult years. And it became a self-fulfilling prophecy: I did not belong anywhere and I slowly withdrew from connecting with people. It became the red thread in my life. In Holland I was a Tunisian girl, and in Tunisia I was a Dutch girl. There was basically no place for me where I felt 100% at home. I was always looking for a place where I could find ‘people like me’ and finally feel ‘normal’. Of course I never found it, as much as I traveled around the world. At least not in the sense of a country, or a place.
” Home is not a physical destination. It’s a place within yourself where you are at peace with all of you: the good and the bad, without any form of judgement ”
And the answer to the question ‘are you more Dutch or Tunisian?’, is that this question is no longer relevant to me. And that’s the biggest win in itself. You may ask me, and I’ll answer. But the point is that the question no longer triggers me. I am at peace with who and what I am. I understood that my identity of being different was nothing more than a limiting belief. And limiting beliefs are false and restrict you in living your best life. And in my case that meant keeping me from connecting with people. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always been sociable and have many friends. But when I talk about connecting, I mean in a deeper sense. Where you are able to show yourself as you are, be vulnerable, accepting of yourself and unapolegetic for what is it you believe in. And while growing up, I struggled with all of this and lacked the confidence to show up as myself. I went looking for answers from a sense of not being enough, to fill a void that I didn’t know how to fill. To find more connection and self-esteem based on roots and race. And as I write this I’m realizing how I have complicated simple things so profoundly. How much meaning I gave in my childhood to the fact that I was different from other children, rather than by looking for what we had in common. But that was the meaning that I myself have given to my identity. It was no ones fault, I did that. And yes, as a biracial child, I was (and still am up till today as an adult) asked many times ‘where I was from’. And that made me feel odd and sad. Because I thought I was from the same place as them. By people asking me this question, I felt like they were pointing out that there was a difference between them and I (and they may not have intended to make me feel that way at all). But I contributed to that narrative too; I kept on entertaining it. I saw that question as an assignment to resolve. And I assumed that when I resolved it, I would finally feel normal and complete. As if there existed two separated versions of me, that I was trying to merge. At a certain point in my childhood, I formed a belief on a subconscious level that I was different. And being different meant that I was not good enough. And I kept on living it. It seems very cliché, because these were all things that I already understood with my conscious mind. I could rationally understand and see that this is what I’ve been doing all along: accepting the limiting belief of being different as full truth. So since I understand this with my brain, why can’t I just move on? The answer to that is that subconsciously, a lot was stuck that made me spiral back into old thought patterns. My subconcious mind did not accept the fact that I was different and was still fighting it. Understanding something with your brain is profoundly different from a sense of awareness on all levels within you. And once I started working with my subconcious mind, that’s where the change began. Overcoming the limiting beliefs by replacing them for positive, empowering beliefs on a subconcious level, have changed so much for me and transformed my life. I realized on all levels that these beliefs were blocking me from being happy with who I was. I devalued, how much more knowledge I had about life, because I had the privilege of knowing multiple cultures. I was so focused on fighting the sense of being different and not fitting in, that I overlooked all the good parts. And today, I can gladly say that I celebrate all of it! Coaching and RTT have helped me overcome those limiting beliefs, and implement empowering, positive beliefs into my life. It has given me freedom, happiness, and most of all meaning. The previously triggering words and situations no longer affect me. It’s strange, because I know how much that bothered me before. Today I hugely appreciate how being different has enriched my life and has given me qualities to think outside of the box, have a zest for life, and a big space to have empathy and appreciation for everyone I have crossed paths with.
This is my story. You may have a different experience in your journey of exploring your identity. Some people don’t feel at home within their country of residence, within their community, or within their family, their relationships, or even within their own bodies. The only question that matters is: What do you need to feel at home within yourself?
