I was born to two amazing parents. My mom is a first gen American, a daughter of two Mexican immigrant parents. My dad is an immigrant himself, having only recently immigrated to the U.S. a few years prior to my birth. So, needless to say, my culture was very strongly upheld in my home growing up. Yet, somehow, no matter how much Spanish I spoke, or Mexican recipes I perfected, there was a long period of my life where I just didn’t feel Hispanic enough.Â
The first time I had the notion that I didn’t live up to the expectations of being a “true” Mexican was during a family trip back to the motherland herself when I was around 6 years old. I remember talking to my cousins who lived there, and they could hardly understand me, despite me speaking my best Spanish. They laughed, asked me a million questions about America, and gave me a Spanish spelling bee. While I now know they weren’t trying to make me feel bad, or make me feel lesser than them, the damage was done. That fateful day made me come to the conclusion that, no matter how hard I tried, I would never be as Mexican as they are.Â
I’d like to say that experience made me want to lean more into my culture, to perfect my Spanish, but that would be a lie. In reality, I took that night as a sign that I was not cut out to be Mexican. I actually distanced myself from my heritage for the majority of my pre-teen and teenage years. It’s not like I didn’t like it — I’ve always loved Mexican culture, food, and traditions. Not a single bit of me has ever hated being Mexican. However, I began to speak less Spanish, I didn’t listen to any Latin music artists, and I didn’t allow myself to enjoy Mexican parties. I almost completely pushed this part of my identity away.Â
I remember when my sister turned 15 and had her quinceañera. I was a dama, which meant I was part of the “court” and had to learn a surprise dance and wear a frilly dress that matched the color of the theme — it was basically like being a bridesmaid. I was so conflicted: On the one hand, I felt honored to be a part of the celebration for my sister. But on the other hand, I thought the whole thing was a waste of time.
Then, in 2017, when I was 13 years old, Disney released the movie Coco, and — as dramatic as it may sound — that movie changed my life. Watching this story about a Mexican boy who doesn’t conform exactly to his family’s ideals, but who gains the love and approval of those around him in the end, made me think about my own life: If Miguel could be himself and still be considered “Mexican enough,” then why couldn’t I?Â
This revelation caused me to completely reconsider what it means to be Hispanic, and I decided that there wasn’t a right or wrong way to live out my identity. I realized no matter where you’re from, where you live, what you like, or how you choose to live your life, every single person born of Hispanic heritage is always Hispanic enough, including me.Â
A few years later, it was my turn to turn 15, and since I went to a high school with a large Hispanic population, I watched a bunch of my peers have their quinceañeras. However, I made the decision to not have one — not because I was rejecting my culture, but because I didn’t (and still don’t) feel like having a quinceañera aligned with my personality or interests.
Regardless, at the time, my choice to not have a quinceañera labeled me as “the most white-washed Mexican ever” in my classmates’ eyes. I hated the insults they threw at me, but even more than that, I hated that there were these arbitrary rules that seemed to decide what made someone Mexican and what didn’t. I also felt gross that other people felt they could tell me that I wasn’t Hispanic enough.
Admittedly, now as a college student, I still sometimes continue to struggle with feeling “Hispanic enough.” However, the biggest things that help me when I feel this way are finding joy in my culture, and sharing my culture with those around me.
It doesn’t matter if I don’t speak perfect impeccable Spanish, it doesn’t matter if I don’t only listen to Latin artists, and it doesn’t matter if I had a quinceañera or not — because none of that changes what’s in my blood and the experiences I’ve had to make me who I am. I love being Hispanic, I love my Mexican culture, and I will always be a part of this amazing community no matter what path I choose to go on. I’m so glad I realized this, and I hope others who believe the hurtful stereotype of not being “Hispanic enough” come to realize this truth, too.