The Self and the Significance of Intersectionality as a Queer POC
By Daniella Brookes
Every day we have new encounters and experiences that shape who we are. We are constantly changing, constantly evolving both as individuals and as a society. With that must come the understanding that we are never truly ‘done’ working on ourselves.
People often talk of self-love like it’s all happy thoughts, bubble baths, and sex toys. Seemingly happy souls preach the liberation of self-care and self-love from an Instagram-worthy retreat whilst posing in designer bikinis. However, the conversation seems to be lacking an acknowledgement of the painful journey along the route to self-love for LGBTQIA+ POC, whose intersectional identities often require specifically tailored responses to mental health issues.
Learning about the self starts at an early age. With an understanding of your identity comes the understanding of how your identity will be perceived by the society that you live in. Consequently, these learned experiences shape our relationships with ourselves. It happens every time someone is profiled and disrespected because of the colour of their skin; every time a young gay person goes to church and their adolescent body is overwhelmed with a feeling of sickness and confusion when they are told that homosexuality is a sin; every time a trans person feels that they cannot leave their house presenting in a way that makes them comfortable because it could put their life in jeopardy. We recognise it whenever we feel the need to downplay our personalities or speak in a ‘palatable’ way just to ensure that we can secure a job that allows us to support our families, who too have felt the sting of societal pressures and consequently learned beliefs systems that suggest compliance aids in survival.
It took me a long time to be at peace with myself. The predominantly white area where I moved to aged eleven was where my negative belief systems surrounding my intersectional identity formed. I remember my first day at school felt as though I was the main attraction in a zoo. Tall, overweight, mixed-race, with an afro so poorly styled by my well-intentioned white mother that I eventually had a kind African lady step in and do my hair for free.
I always felt I stood out; I always felt embarrassed. Like all pre-teen girls, I became increasingly aware of my physical appearance and wanted to fit in. Over the years, I went through various attempts of white-washing myself. I felt that the only way to avoid ridicule from my peers was through presenting myself in a way that couldn’t be categorised as ‘other’. White-washing myself didn’t save me from awkward questions or being an outcast. I still found myself explaining things that I rarely had the energy to educate people on.
My attempts at fitting in made me feel more isolated as the years passed. I was losing touch with who I was in the attempt to conform to an unrealistic standard that I had set for myself. As I worked on healing by embracing my natural hair and the beauty of my cultural heritage, my confidence grew. But I still found myself overwhelmed with feelings of anxiety, especially when dating and sex were involved.
I knew from a young age that I was attracted to women. However, I often heard homophobic comments from my peers and family members growing up, so nothing about my surroundings taught me that these feelings were okay. So, I quickly dismissed them whenever they arose. I often had gay male friends growing up but never associated myself with lesbians. They would make me feel uncomfortable in a way that I didn’t understand. It was only as I got older that I understood I was experiencing internalised homophobia, which affected my sense of self-worth. Despite thinking that I was healing, I was again suppressing parts of my identity as a means of protecting myself. This default defence mechanism continued to take a toll on my mental health and manifested as long-term depression and anxiety.
Healing from these deep-rooted self-deprecating beliefs required the acknowledgement that these same feelings originated from more than one area of my life. Recognising intersectionality was an essential part of my healing process. A lot of unlearning and reprogramming my brain was required before I reached a place of not only self-acceptance but pride in who I am.
Learning to embrace my sexuality in the same way that I did my cultural heritage introduced me to connections and spaces that I wouldn’t have otherwise encountered. Although it initially made navigating my way through life harder, embracing intersectionality has also provided me with wider perspectives that subsequently allow me to have richer experiences in the world. For that, I am very grateful.
Intersectionality plays a significant role in how we are perceived and treated by the world. However, it’s important to recognise the power we possess because of our individuality. The levels of strength, resilience, compassion, and vulnerability that we acquire because of our experiences can invigorate the skills required to make impactful and positive changes in the world, as well as inspire some of the best creative work currently being produced.
Of course, it’s not to say that the adversities we face can ever be justified. But it is a blessing to find light in the darkest of places. I am so thankful to exist in a time and place where our understanding of the complexities surrounding gender, sexuality, race, faith, and disabilities is growing. But as a certain percentage of the world still hasn’t reached a necessary place of acceptance, we must continue to find positivity where we can, ensuring we show love to ourselves and others until the rest of the world finally catches up.