Many aspects make up a person’s identity and who they are. Some are self-defined, while others are based on their background and culture. Certain ones influence the person we become, while the alternatives don’t make a difference. A significant deal of components makes up the person I am. Still, the most apparent one is how I am an Indian-Pakistani American, the first generation born here in the United States.
As a South Asian American, I’m proud of where my family is from and has evolved to become. My parents came from nothing and thrived despite the odds to get where they are now. As a kid, McDonald’s Happy Meals used to be expensive, but now, I’m fortunate enough to go to one of the best schools in the country. But, we never forget who we once were and what we are.
The ideology of never giving up is engraved in our heads. It was challenging to survive, but not knowing how the country functioned made society harder for my parents. I work hard every day in college to meet my goal of becoming a nurse. That way, I will ensure stability and security for them. We may have had nothing, but we had each other, which made a difference.
Outside of the strive against the odds and unconditional support, there is even more that makes me a whole person. For example, I embrace my South Asian heritage and proudly say I’m half Indian, half Pakistani even when people give me surprised looks. Most people assume I’m Hispanic or think that it’s an odd mix, given the years of rivalry. However, being a child of South Asian immigrants is only a tiny percentage of my person.
Sometimes, the pressure to be put in one box confuses how my identity functions. If I don’t conform to the expectations within my culture, rumors and gossip will fill the room. Kya yah ladakee paagal hai? Yah ladakee kya kar rahee hai? It’s always about what people would say rather than my thoughts and opinions about becoming my own person. The community will make comments and that is all we can hear.
But this isn’t everything that makes me up. I’m more than the first-born daughter of immigrants. I’m a student attending Florida State University as a Public Health major, planning on attending nursing school next year. The specialty I hope to enter is trauma nursing, considering they have helped me during the worst of times. I want to make a difference in someone else’s life. Yet, I’m still more than this. I’m a sister, a writer, a friend and a lover.
So many aspects of me get hidden, with my physical appearance taking the spotlight. Not many attributes are considered, but I’m a mix of many things, not just one identity. However, sometimes it gets lost because I don’t feel enough. Depending on my writing, I can be insecure about it, hate it or feel like it is not my best work. It happens to everyone, but it’s more complicated when you write for Her Campus.
Not just that, but sometimes I feel like an awful sister. I left my hometown to go to college, which is almost eight hours away from everything I had ever known. My youngest brother, who is seven, is growing up without me present in his life. It’s like a game of Guess The Person? when I visit because there are so many new people in his life. My parents are getting older, not younger, and everything is changing from what I once knew every single day.
Yet, so am I, and I’m becoming the person I was meant to be more than ever. At times, I’m still confused about who I am and what I’m doing, but it’s a one-step-at-a-time process. But, wherever I end up, I will love who I am and be proud of the person I have become. It warms my heart to say I’m South Asian, and my parents have survived countless obstacles to make it where they are. There is so much more to my identity. Most importantly, I am who I am and have survived my hell. To me, that matters just as much, if not more, and I’m open to learning who that person is.
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