There was a time not too long ago when being South Asian in the West meant shrinking yourself. When the smell of your mom’s dal chawal clinging to your clothes felt like a social death sentence. When the lunch table was filled with questions like “what is that?” and TikToks that casually ranked “Indians” as the last race people would date because we were “smelly.” We laughed awkwardly, scrolled past, and internalized the message: hide who you are.
And so we did. We packed away our bangles. Told our moms to stop speaking in Urdu, Tamil, or Punjabi on the phone in public. Shaved down parts of ourselves until we were “palatable.” Swapped our kurtis for cropped tees, our mehndi for manicures. We wanted to blend in, not be stared at.
But something has changed. Quietly and quickly.
Now, you might see a girl on campus wearing a simple kurti over jeans. Or gold jhumke peeking out beneath freshly blown-out hair. South Asian girls, especially Gen Z women, are no longer hiding their culture. We’re folding it into our everyday lives; it’s beautiful.
It’s not always loud or performative. It’s subtle, personal, and healing. It’s choosing to play A.R. Rahman or Coke Studio in the background while studying, brewing chai for your roommate, or oiling your hair on Sunday nights because it reminds you of your mom at home.
This cultural return isn’t just aesthetic, it’s resistance. It’s how we push back against years of being made to feel less-than. For many of us, it’s also about reconnection: to grandparents we didn’t fully understand, to mother tongues we’re relearning one word at a time, to music and traditions that were once background noise but now feel like home.
And no, reclaiming culture doesn’t mean we’re suddenly immune to stereotypes or ignorance; it means we’re no longer molding ourselves to be accepted. What used to be embarrassing is now a source of pride.
So, if you see a girl with gold bangles clinking against her laptop as she types in the library, know that those aren’t just accessories, they’re proof that we’re still here. That we’re reclaiming who we are and wearing it boldly.
And if you’re still in the in-between space, still learning to love the parts you once pushed away, know that you’re not alone. There’s no wrong way to come home to yourself.