My Parents Made Me Think I Was White My Whole Life
This article was originally written in 2016.
I am probably black.
That statement in itself might look ridiculous to anyone who doesn't know me. To anyone who has stumbled across this article, seen a couple of my photos and thought:
Is this girl crazy?She's very clearly not white.
But for me, it sums up life as I've known it to be because for the longest time I grew up believing that I was.
White, that is.
And as unbelievable as that sounds, this went on for most of my life.
It wasn't until I lost my Dad last year, that I began to unravel the strange story that I'd grown up believing.
Because there's a lot about myself that I'm trying to find out, the story is still very much unravelling. But in order to stop myself from unravelling, I am traveling.
I'm growing through travel.
I am staying on the move.
Because my life was thrown into a permanent state of flux. So why not embrace the chaos?
I've decided to do it all on my own terms.
Growing Up White
Growing up, the word “black" was never used to describe me. I was never properly black, because I didn't talk black and I had zero cultural ties to anything considered black by the few black people I knew. To some, my features weren't black enough. To others, my very presence among white people all the time, was enough to negate my blackness.
But with a green-eyed Irish Mother, a white Father and a brother, who only had to step outside for 10 minutes to see his freckles multiply by the dozen, my own default was set as white, too.
My parents and I
I was told by my parents that I inherited my dark skin and curly hair from a distant ancestor on my Mother's side of the family.
And unless I probed my parents for answers (and I did so each and every time someone else reminded me that I just didn't look like I belonged) we just didn't talk about the likelihood of this story being true.
We got on with our lives. And I learned to bury my insecurities.
But as most non-white people will tell you, other people ask you justify your existence in a world where the default is set to white, ALL THE TIME.
So when my protective bubble of whiteness was popped with probing, persistent questions from strangers, it stung me because I never had an answer for why I was black.
On holiday as a kid, the reminders that I stood out like a sore thumb in a family where Factor 30+ sunscreen)was always a necessity in anything hotter than 64 F, always hit me like a freight train.
Was it possible I'd been adopted? How was I related to these people? Where did I get my hair from? Was I mixed, or Eritrean or just in denial?
Sometimes it was comical. Surrounded by white people on both sides of my family, I used to think my appearance in Christmas photos was funny. But I grew up never posting pictures of my family online because I cared too much what people thought.
My younger half-brother and me
When we visited my Mum's tiny town on the West coast of Ireland each year for my summer holidays (where you'd be hard-pushed to find anyone a shade up from milk-bottle-translucent, for miles) and I was told to “go back to Africa" — I wasn't particularly amused.
When aged seventeen, a teacher asked me in front of the whole class why I was marked down on the school system as “white-British" (not the smartest move from my parents, admittedly), I just didn't know what to say.
Looking back though, racial issues didn't take up too much of my headspace. But then again, that's because white people don't give too much thought to their whiteness unless they absolutely have to.
Unless they're forced to square up to their whiteness in the mirror and address how this sets them apart and above, other groups.
Not to mention, up until around the age of 16, I really believed I was white, too.
Not necessarily white in appearance, but more in the cultural, ethnic sense. I wasn't blind but I didn't believe I was black, either.
Mainly though, race was something I didn't think too much about unless other people asked me to explain myself.
My parents were ticking boxes that said I was “white-British," so to anyone who asked me, I was that too.
Luckily, I was surrounded with the kind of love from two parents that was so thick, so unwavering and so real, that sometimes I felt smothered by it. I never felt unloved. And I never felt like an outsider among the people that loved me.
But unfortunately, my family home was not a microcosm for the real world.
I did — and still do — get asked “where I'm from" around five times a month. I still don't know what to say.
On the rare occasions I heard ignorant friends or family members speak about blackness as an illness — as a concept that made people more threatening, or less attractive, or less palatable and then turned to me and said something like:
“Oh well, you're not black so it doesn't matter,"
or, “Yeah, but I'm not talking about you, am I?"
…that was alienating. THAT made me feel less than human. And so, I overcompensated. I grew louder and more confident than anyone else, because I felt I had no other option.
The Catalyst
But then two years ago my Father got really sick – and then last year he died. Like so many people who lose a parent from cancer, I found myself unable to function. My life and the life of my family was drained of colour. Things went grey, bleak, desolate.
I also felt extremely disconnected from who I was, or should I say, who I thought I was.
So when I reached rock bottom, I started to dig myself out. I started digging because my Father's death was the catalyst for change and I felt that I didn't have anything left to lose. Half of my story had died with him, after all.
And so I did a DNA test in Easter 2016 and discovered that I'd never actually been related to the fantastic, funny, blue-eyed man who raised me — in the biological sense, anyway.
There's some material online about how to put yourself together after losing a parent. But the manual into how not to implode when you realise that parent was never related to you in the first place?
That one's unchartered territory, unsurprisingly and the news hollowed me out from the inside.
When I found out via email one afternoon at work in London that half my family weren't actually related to me, that I wasn't able to call my Dad my own anymore and that I probably had a whole other life waiting for me in a not-so-distant universe, it nearly broke me.
I must have left around five dents in the walls in the house I grew up in, whilst screaming at my Mum for an explanation, which came about slowly and painfully when I begged for it.
My Mum doesn't know much about this man (who I'll never call a Father), other than the fact he was “dark" and spoke with an Irish accent.
So I'm also coming to terms with the fact that I may never have that missing piece of my ethnic jigsaw puzzle either.
And after 23 years of saying I was British/Irish and something else unknown, I don't really know what I am.
And more than anything, I would love to know WHERE my blackness comes from.
Travel and Identity
So to overcome all this; the death, the lies, the awkward conversations, the lack of closure over my heritage and the near-collective family silence that has ensued since I've told everyone the truth — I've decided to travel.
To some, it might look like I'm running away from a series of painful experiences back home. To me, I'm delving head-first, arms wide, legs akimbo into my great unknown (read: non-white spaces) to see how that's going to help me define my own identity.
Because after 23 years, I've decided that my identity is going to be on my terms.
Whilst “blackness" is something I felt I could never really lay claim to, I also know there is no one-size-fits-all approach to being black.
And if I don't want to identify as black, I guess I don't have to.
There's still a part of me that feels as if I'm denying my Father, though (the one that raised me) by exploring this unknown part of my heritage.
I'll never want to replace my Dad, but I also feel a bit guilty that all he did for me wasn't enough to quell this deep-rooted desire within me, to find out where I come from, ethnically.
But then again, doesn't everyone deserve to know that?
At the moment, I guess I still don't really consider myself any different to the person my parents raised me to be. But after 23 years of not knowing why I look the way I do and finding out all this crazy, weird information, I feel…a shift in mindset.
And I plan on doing a DNA test to shed some more light into where my ancestors may have come from.
To be raised white when you're black is to feel like you're in a permanent state of flux with your identity; it's chaotic and confusing and so, I've chosen to embrace the chaos.
Adapting to white and black company growing up means I can feel at home almost anywhere and at the moment, the journey is my home.
Traveling helps me find out more about where my ethnic origins lie. It's the obvious and only way to facilitate my journey of personal growth, so I'm not going to stop.
Right now, I'm traveling to find out who I am and where I come from.
I'm traveling to shape myself into the person I want to be.
And I'm traveling to find my own identity – whatever that is.
Because I think I'm (probably) black.
Georgina Lawton is the author of Raceless (2021) and Black Girls Take World(2021) and the host of Audible's The Secrets In Us DNA podcast.
ItGirl 100 Honors Black Women Who Create Culture & Put On For Their Cities
As they say, create the change you want to see in this world, besties. That’s why xoNecole linked up with Hyundai for the inaugural ItGirl 100 List, a celebration of 100 Genzennial women who aren’t afraid to pull up their own seats to the table. Across regions and industries, these women embody the essence of discovering self-value through purpose, honey! They're fierce, they’re ultra-creative, and we know they make their cities proud.
VIEW THE FULL ITGIRL 100 LIST HERE.
Don’t forget to also check out the ItGirl Directory, featuring 50 Black-woman-owned marketing and branding agencies, photographers and videographers, publicists, and more.
THE ITGIRL MEMO
I. An ItGirl puts on for her city and masters her self-worth through purpose.
II. An ItGirl celebrates all the things that make her unique.
III. An ItGirl empowers others to become the best versions of themselves.
IV. An ItGirl leads by example, inspiring others through her actions and integrity.
V. An ItGirl paves the way for authenticity and diversity in all aspects of life.
VI. An ItGirl uses the power of her voice to advocate for positive change in the world.
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Not too long ago, while in an interview, someone asked me for a top complaint that I hear husbands say (first) and then wives state (second) as it relates to what goes down (or doesn’t go down) in the bedroom.
Ladies first: when it comes to women, I think what comes up more than anything might surprise some: it’s boredom. A lot of wives want there to be more spontaneity instead of taking the “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” approach from their partner. As for men? I mean, would anyone be shocked to hear that they wished their wife would initiate sex more often?
I’m telling you, over frequency, technique, and even dressing up more for bed (and yes, those things also come up quite a bit), hands down, what I hear that more men want is for their partner to show them that they are desired by taking the initial steps to make copulation happen…more often.
And so, since I’m all about doing whatever I can to reduce dissatisfaction and frustration in the bedroom department, let’s explore this very topic today — from a few angles. For starters, what it truly means to be a sexual initiator; two, why it’s so vitally important to be a sexual initiator, and three, why it could literally change the entire tone, energy, and outcome of your sex life with your partner — if you’d simply be open to initiating sex more often than you (probably already) do.
What It Means to Initiate Something. LITERALLY.
Giphy
I’m word-literal — there’s no secret about that. So, when it comes to the topic of initiating sex, let’s start with what the word means. To initiate is “to begin, set going, or originate” and “to introduce into the knowledge of some art or subject.” Some synonyms for initiate include begin, open, set up, trigger, admit, introduce, and invest. And when it comes to all of the meanings of these words, between men and women, when it comes to sex specifically, guess who does it more? Men. BY A LONG SHOT TOO: a whopping 60 percent.
When it comes to why a lot of women are so comfortable with men initiating intimacy, many think that, just like men should pursue them for a relationship, it is also “the man’s role” to pursue sex in the bedroom; they literally think that it makes them look desperate or needy for them to be the initiator — yes, even as a wife. What in the world?
Listen, when two people sign up to be each other’s exclusive sex partner until death parts them, it means they are both saying that they desire each other so much that they are willing to make that kind of commitment — and so, there should be no “I don’t want to appear this way or that” when it comes to sexual activity.
So, with all of that ridiculous overthinking out of the way, that should make you want to “set up” some sex plans, “admit” to some sexual fantasies that you may have, and “introduce” some new ideas to your partner; especially since that’s exactly what so many men wish that their lady would do, to begin with.
So, with all of this said, if you’re someone who is hung up on not initiating, first spend some time really processing what the word means. Because when two people are eager to begin sex and invest in each other sexually, that is the recipe for a truly satisfying experience…over and over and over again.
C’mon. Who Doesn’t Want to Feel Wanted?
GiphyI remember once reading an article that said our brain processes rejection the same way that it does physical pain, and y’all, I don’t know about you, but if something is physically hurting me, my natural inclination is to get away from it. Along these lines, when it comes to relationships since research has proven that rejection can lead to things like jealousy, shame, anxiety, loneliness, and guilt — yes, it makes all of the common sense in the world that you would want to do all that you can to make your partner feel wanted…both in and outside of the bedroom because, just like no one wants to deal with physical pain, no one wants to keep dealing with rejection and all of the fallout that comes with it…either.
Actually, when it comes to this particular point, I think that an article that I once read on Psychology Today’s site said it best: “Not only does being needed help define your role in a relationship, but being needed can also influence how satisfied you feel in a relationship.” And before some of you say that “sex is not a need” — the hell you say? I mean, the only purpose of your clitoris is to provide sexual stimulation, so that alone should make us all deem sex (and sexual fulfillment) as pretty damn important.
Plus, by definition, a need is something that is deemed as being essential while also being something that is extremely necessary, and anyone who thinks that a romantic relationship doesn’t need physical intimacy? That’s someone who really needs to remain single because one of the top things that makes a relationship more than a friendship is there is intimacy that’s involved.
Besides, who doesn’t want to feel wanted by their partner — and I do mean, in every way? And when you make the decision to be in an exclusive relationship with someone else, you are declaring that they are someone who pleases you to the point where you don’t need to look for anyone else to do it; and, if that is indeed what you are saying, it doesn’t make sense that you wouldn’t initiate sex with them sometimes (and I do mean more than on their birthday).
One, because you choose them to “fill that role.” Two, because they are the source of your fulfillment in that area. Three, because it’s completely unfair (not to mention totally hypocritical) to expect them to make you feel wanted when you’re not being intentional about making them feel the same way in return. Not to mention the fact that initiating also helps to safeguard your relationship on a lot of levels too.
Since sex is important and rejection is detrimental on so many levels, it’s crucial to make your partner feel sexually wanted and desired by you. One way to definitely do that is to initiate sex.
What Initiating Sex Does for You
GiphySo, what does initiating sex do for the initiator? Something that I tell a lot of my women clients is it helps them to create an atmosphere that puts them in the mood. What I mean by that is, if their husband is perfectly content having sex on the couch during commercials (I’m kind of exaggerating to make a point…kind of…LOL) while they would like some candles, mood music, and rose petals — they can control that if they are the one who initiates.
Another perk that comes with being the initiator is you have more “control” over how the sex goes. The kind of foreplay you want, how fast or slow things go, how intercourse begins — all of this, you have more of a say so in if you’re the one who is initiating intimacy. Why? Well, think about when your bae initiates — doesn’t it seem like you tend to follow his lead more when he’s the one who is first to get the ball rolling?
Oftentimes, when a couple comes to me about being sexually dissatisfied, and I recommend that the one who doesn’t initiate takes more initiative, the one on the receiving end likes the fact that their partner is “running the show” — and the initiator likes “being in charge” more than they thought that they would. As a result, both end up experiencing far more pleasure.
The initiator shows what they want more of while the receiver feels desired in the process. A win/win for everyone.
What Initiating Sex Does for Him
sexy black and white GIFGiphyA couple of weeks ago, while in a session with a client, he was joking about how much he has “too much of a good thing” when it comes to his wife’s libido. Although science says that the fact that men have a higher amount of testosterone in their system, and it is the reason why they typically have a higher sex drive, don’t sleep on a lot of women out there who want to get it in more than their husband does. His wife is one of them. Since she’s a client of mine too (oftentimes, we do our sessions separately), it’s interesting that he’s fine with having sex a couple of times a month while she would like to a couple of times a week.
So, is he denying her when she wants it more often? Nope. The reason why they’re not having more sex is that even though her drive is higher, she still waits for him to initiate. Why? Because she thinks that’s what “the man should do”; not only that but “being wooed” turns her on more.
As I’ve been working on helping them to find a middle ground (because if marriage ain’t about compromise, I don’t know what is), he says that he feels like because he plans a lot of the dates, he wishes that she would initiate more: “I don’t think a lot of women get how hard it is to be a Black man out here. Nothing feels better than knowing that if no one else is thrilled by your presence, your woman is. For us, initiating isn’t just about sex. It’s about feeling wanted as a whole. And when we feel like our woman adores us, there is no greater turn-on.”
I’m not sure what y’all heard, but what it sounds like to me is when we, as women, initiate sex, men feel holistically special and cherished. That makes sense, too, because if we were to put our feet in their shoes, we would probably say the same thing. That’s just one more reason to pull the “gender roles” out of this topic; men and women both want to feel like they are the best thing on the planet by their sex partners. And again, initiating helps us all to feel that way.
What Initiating Ultimately Does for Your Relationship As a Whole
Issa Rae Love GIF by Insecure on HBOGiphyPersonally, I can only imagine how much better sex would be for everyone (who is in a sexual relationship) if people simply initiated copulation whenever they wanted to have it. That way, everyone would feel desired — and what could possibly be wrong with that? Especially if both individuals factored in some of the definitions for initiated that I already shared. Just think about if you rushed home tonight because you read about something that you want to introduce to your man or there’s a fantasy that you have that you want to admit.
The mere conversations alone will help to bring the two of you closer together because, after all, deep intimacy is about minds, bodies, and spirits getting as close as possible…right? And so, yes, by initiating sex, it can bring more closeness and stability to the relationship as a whole.
And what if you initiate and your partner isn’t interested at the time? Or what if you’re shy about initiating due to having a fear of rejection? That’s a fair and legitimate concern. One day, I’ll need to pen an article on how couples should handle situations like that with grace (on both ends) while applying the golden rule of “doing unto others as you would have them do unto you.” For now, I’ll just say that if this is your greatest point of concern, share that with your partner as well.
After all, it’s pretty unrealistic to expect them to always want it when you do (although it’s been my experience and observation that men are almost always far easier to convince…LOL); just know that not wanting sex at the exact moment that you do doesn’t mean that they don’t want you altogether. Besides, oftentimes, a nap or a night of sleep can rectify that issue. Trust me.
____
Rihanna was actually once quoted as saying, “To me, sex is power. It’s empowering to do it because you want to do it.” I personally think that’s a great way to bring this to a close. Make your partner feel wonderful, empower yourself, and strengthen your relationship by initiating sex more often. I can’t think of one reason why it’s not a wise move. Can you?
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Featured image by Jacob Wackerhausen/Getty Images