What Happens When You Long for a Place That No Longer Exists

As I unpack this entire year I have come to realize something. There were parts of me so rejected by America and its ideas and the way the system works there that I disassociated myself from everyone else.

I didn't want to be American. It wasn't until I was in a hospital in a third world country that I actually felt connected to where I am from. I realized that I am American.

I know that sounds strange and privileged but it is true.

Where I actually come from

I am an American and to the core of it my mom is and was connected. Her family and their family. We have been in America for centuries.

So why do I find myself so disgusted by that term. American.

I don't resonate with the way they have portrayed us in the media. Being away from the US has made me realize further that I am much different from those I was raised around. I find myself in this limbo, realizing that I hadn't been accepting myself or where I am from.

I feel like I am constantly explaining and defending my homeland when it isn't the people. It is the government. It is the colonizers and those who are still following suit with their narrative.

What I am tired of

I am tired. I am also tired of the Moors and darker complexions being shunned from native spaces because of blood quantum levels.

We are you and you are us and we deserve to have access.

Home

I miss my land. I miss my home. But I am realizing that my home is within me and that place no longer exists.

So what happens when you are longing for a place that no longer exists?

I am American and to the depths of me I am Native American. Not just mixed race.

I am struggling with identity because I don't know who I am anymore. But if I know anything else it is that.