Dimelo: Celebrate Who You Are

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Understand that I am not offended if people ask if or assume I am black because my hair tells them I “must be." I’m offended because I am told I must be mistaken when I say that I am first-generation Mexican American because that is the culture with which I have always identified.

Thanks to my work with Girl Body Pride and the stories of self-discovery shared by many wonderful contributors on the site, I'm at a place where I can celebrate myself. I don't care anymore when people ask me what I am but don't ask the blonde friend I might be standing next to. I try not to laugh when the stranger asking the question seems confused by the fact that my blonde friend and I are both Latina (or that her Spanish is better than mine).

Maybe the constant questions can be tiring, but so is listening to the media tell us we're all fat if we happen to be a size 10 or bigger. Loving ourselves as we are comes with learning to accept that other people don't control how we see ourselves in a mirror or dictate which culture we identify with based on their perceptions. Me? I'm Mexican. I'm hypenated. I'm a Mainer now. And I was born in Detroit and always will be from Motown.

That's who and what I am. And I'm proud of that.

Are you proud of what you are?

Find me at about.me/paulinecampos. Beware of rabbit holes.

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