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This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Wells chapter.

 

 

I was at the store with a college friend the other day. We were grocery shopping at the local Walmart, getting cheap groceries to last the week without going to the dining hall. We had enough respect for our bodies not to decimate our intestines with undercooked and unappreciated food. As we were checking out, the cashier, ever so sweetly thanked us for shopping and willed us ladies to have a wonderful day. 

 

Us. Ladies. 

 

This cashier saw the both of us and assumed that we were both women, but I don’t feel like that word is me. While I might have presented as someone more feminine, I do not feel like I fit the attributes associated with being a lady. I have never felt like one. 

 

I always felt different since I was a child, yet  I was always nervous to explore that part of me that never clicked. I was always surrounded by strong, independent women who supported the household by wearing many labeled hats. They all thrived in their femininity; loved wearing makeup, dressing themselves up for a girls’ night out with a cute dress, the role of motherhood. While I appreciated and loved each and every woman in my life for showing my different ways of femininity, I felt as if this attribute was not of my own, but an itchy sweater forced on my body. 

 

When confronted with the possibility of identity more than femininity, I panicked. I threw myself into feminine clothes and attributes and forced myself to be miserable for years. Frankly, how could a dark skin person even try to understand gender identity? It wasn’t for me, it was for White teenagers on Tumblr who forced the entire social platform to be a safe space for White queers. I was not allowed to explore that part of my identity, as I felt there was nothing to discover. 

 

It was not until college that an older friend took me under their wing and gave me the space to question my gender identity as a Black and Person of Color. College allowed me the space to explore and expand my gender identity and to come to terms with who I am. However, it comes from a white queer lens, as much as many people here are allies of BIPOC. 

 

Being White non-binary is very different from being Black non-binary. There is little to no one I can relate to about being queer and a Person of Color. Some days I feel as if I have to lean on one identity or another, and it’s horrible. 

 

I’m the only Black non-binary human I know.

Syd Abad

Wells '22

“Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare.” ― Audre Lorde, A Burst of Light
Wells Womxn