Disclaimer: I am not proud of the choices I made and how I reacted. I was doing the best I could at the time. I understand that some people are going to hate this because they're struggling to accept their own truths. Misogyny runs deep, hating women for not knowing any better runs deep, but I will not be shamed or silenced for sharing what I've gone through and my experiences. I recommend listening to the podcast Shameless: IN CONVERSATION: Rupi Kaur because they explain the subtle ways we've internalized misogyn.

Okay, this is all relatively new to me, so I'm still not sure what role I had in it, what I internalized, and what was my environment. Right now, it all seems like this tangled mess, and I will try my best to differentiate each.

I was trying to assimilate to white culture way before I went to school in Chicago, it just happened that while at Chicago I spiraled.

Let's bring it back to 3^rd grade at Avalon Elementary. Since I had just came from Colombia and spoke no English, I was enrolled in the ESOL program. I didn't know it at the time, but the stereotype of students that are in the ESOL program is that they are stupid. My first memory of misogyny and the shame placed on immigrants was that year. A girl that was in 5^th grade was also in the ESOL program, she was a refugee from El Salvador. Because of all the hardships she endured at age 10 she didn't know how to add or subtract. I just remember the teachers and the kids being so mean to her. I can't begin to imagine how much shame she already felt for not knowing simple math; but on top of that the shame and judgment everyone else was giving her. In that moment I knew that as an immigrant I am not allowed to show that I don't know something; because I will be torn apart.

Fast forward to my voting article. Since age 8, I've internalized the shame and guilt associated with "not knowing any better". I know I've made myself look and act as if I'm privileged, but that wasn't always the case. I wouldn't have been able to go to college if it wasn't for DePaul's first generation scholarship, my mother's below low income earning, the Zea family, and ROTC; so the fact that people don't see how much I've sacrificed to get there and all the people that have helped me get there hurts my soul in ways no one should ever experience.

I have been the outlier for nearly every stereotype I've been categorized in. I've been part of a system that cripples immigrants and I am no better just because I was somehow lucky enough to beat all the odds; I am here to tell you that it tore me apart. I was creeping a while back, and out of all the people in the ESOL program, I was the only one that went to school out of state, and there was only one other girl that went to FGCU.

From a young age, I internalized people's expectation; and this has caused great confusion in my life. I'm not sure what I want because I was too focused on what people wanted me to be. When I was at Avalon, people thought I was stupid because I didn't speak English. I couldn't talk to kids my age, and the broken English I knew wasn't enough. The kids in my grade would make fun of the kids in ESOL, and when I would spoke I would pronounce things with a Spanish accent, and people would laugh. It was in that moment that I knew I couldn't have a Spanish accent, because I wouldn't be considered a person. First of all, it was really hard; people don't like to admit it, but subconsciously we think people are dumb or treat them inferior based on their accent; unless we objectify them and think their accent is considered "hot". Which is why, now that I'm older I speak really slow. I have to speak slow, otherwise my Spanish accent will come out. It also comes out when I'm drunk or nervous; but this is why I've copied this "white voice", when I speak English.

In Florida, people know I'm Hispanic. It's probably because there's a higher Latino population, but it was weird going to school in Chicago because people assumed, I was "mixed". At first, I would get really offended. Do all brown people really look the same to white people? Like, do you really think that because I'm a caramel mocha color and have wavy/curly hair that I must be half black and white? It was really insulting, but I got used to it. I can't believe I thought I need to change the way I take something that is actually insulting and demeaning just because other people are not aware of race.

The more time I spent in Chicago the more I was subconsciously assimilated to white culture. In this, I wonder how much happened because Chicago is one of the most segregated cities in the world, and how much already came with me from Naples.

In Chicago people of color try to be white (not all off course, just the bubble I exposed myself with). And after hearing comments like, "Do Brazilian girls fuck for a sport? I heard they're all sluts", or "I'm Latino, but I'm not ratchet", as if all Latinos are only ratchet. I realized that this whole time I was trying to prove that I am not the stereotype, when I was. I am Latina, and I'm loud and I get angry and I stand up for myself and my friends; and if that makes me a "spicy Latina", so be it. No wonder I didn't want to be myself. I have never met a "Latino" that didn't speak Spanish, until I went to Chicago. How can you be Latino and not speak Spanish? Like, what? Can you imagine a white person saying they are American, but can't speak English…

Also in Chi, you don't really see people of different backgrounds being friends, unless it's basketball—no joke. Again, you have to realize that I was in Lincoln Park, which is a bubble of white people. Every Latino, black or person of color I encounter wasn't actually their own culture, but a white version of themselves, myself included. I know this is a harsh observation and is not the only truth; I'm just speaking on what I experienced and what I saw, and you are not less than if you are a white version of your culture.

Any who, I realized that I started dying my hair blonde because it made me feel like I was assimilating more. During the winter, I would get so pale I looked ill, but I liked it. I was never passing white, but I tried. I had a white boyfriend, I would starve myself to appear "less thick" than my natural self, and I would straighten my hair often.

It wasn't until I started starving so bad, that my hair started to fall out, that I knew I had to give my hair a break from the blonde—because if I kept it up I would probably be bald very soon. As I decided to go back to natural, BLM protesst were going on, and I had a lot of time to reflect on my own culture and how I fit into all of this. I realized that part of the fight is the internalized oppression I and many others have been feeling all along. I haven't been natural in so long, because my dark hair makes me look "more Hispanic". I realized that I had drifted so far from my culture not only on social media, but in my actual life. I broke down.

I stopped going to the beach because I didn't want to get "too dark". The world was telling me that I am not good enough as I am, and like a dumbass I listened. But I do want to make very clear, that this internalized oppression and pressure to assimilate into white culture has been going on hundreds of years before today; and I am no longer going to fall for this bullshit.

I dyed my hair natural and I chopped off all the ends that felt like a broom. I am now learning to love myself again. And not in that fake love bullshit that all of us have been taught. I'm learning to love myself in my natural skin and hair. I'm learning to love myself without make up. I'm learning to love myself every day that I eat, and not force myself to "starve", just because I had a bad day of eating. I'm learning to love all the things I've been told to hate about myself and standing tall and proud. I'm learning to love that I take up space and I am not a tiny person, or this "skinny" girl. I'm learning to love myself and it's a battle every fucking day, and it's worth it. Since I've started this journey, I've had less stomach issues and acid reflux, my acne has cleared out, and I have fewer depressive days.

Do not get me wrong, there are moments that it feels like I can't do this, and days that I feel the guilt of how poorly I've treated myself. During those days, I allow myself to cry it out. I allow myself to feel all the horrible things people assume about me, and all the horrible things I've wrongly signaled about myself, and then I wake up the next day and keep going. I am changing every single day, and I refuse to let any Instagram troll from letting me grow and admit my wrong doings just because it's shameful and wrong. This is so cliché, but I am human and I actually make a lot of mistakes. I make mistakes, but I am learning and growing and changing, and I refuse to feel ashamed for being honest, no matter how fucked up.