The Philosopher's Room

Have you ever been asked the question, “Who are you?” It seems like such a simple question, doesn’t it? When we ask ourselves, the answers may scatter across our minds, but we can easily brush them off or distract ourselves with other thoughts. However, when someone else poses the question, it’s as if we’re suddenly blinded by a spotlight, confronted with the profound challenge of truly knowing ourselves.

Discovering the true essence of “knowing thy self” has been an incredible journey for me, one that has transformed my life in profound ways. Before discovering who I truly am and what it means to authentically know oneself, I wandered aimlessly, uncertain of my path, lacking a solid understanding of my own identity.

Looking back, I realize that everything I was being, every aspect of who I was, every thought, belief, and behavior, was undeniably shaped by the environment that surrounded me. The people I interacted with, the place I grew up in, and the community I called home, what I watched or didn’t watch all played a significant role in influencing my perspectives and shaping my identity. Not only that, but simply being a Black girl/woman from Brooklyn, NY not only influenced my cultural expressions and sense of identity but also impacted the way I spoke and engaged in conversations.

As I navigated different social circles, I found myself compelled to adjust my way of speaking. When interacting with friends from the projects, I would avoid annunciation on words ending in ‘ing’, while in school, I would downplay elaborate vocabularies to avoid being labeled as an Oreo.

It wasn’t just the way I spoke. This was deeper than that. I slowly began to recognize that certain conversations seemed socially forbidden. Beyond accents, ebonics, and slang, the nuances of communication carried a weight that extended beyond words. From a young age, I possessed a deep introspection, questioning our origins and my own existence beyond the confines of my black skin.

Amidst collective conversations, I often found myself making things awkward within seconds, experiencing a deafening silence instead of the expected follow-up answers or questions. As a young individual, I would bring up strange and unique topics, posing questions that were outside the norm in my social circle. I found myself grappling with persistent questions about the origins of language and the distinct characteristics and physical traits that set ethnic groups apart from one another. The response was usually a collective laughter, with emphasis placed on how weird and random I was. It made me question whether being different was inherently bad. Apparently, in the world I had been a part of, it seemed to be so. In those moments, I hoped that my questions would ignite a spark of contemplation in their minds, urging them to consider these thoughts alongside me.

In my youthful naivety, I succumbed to the pressure of fitting in and began to believe that perhaps these profound questions had no answers worth pursuing. Conversations revolving around celebrity gossip, politics, personal dramas, and the regurgitation of old stories became the norm.

In a world that often viewed me solely through the lens of being a black girl, I learned to embrace this reality. Though the perceptions others held remained unclear, I felt the weight of expectations to conform to mediocrity, to be dismissed as lacking intelligence, compliance as the only path, and a destined failure confined to the limitations of societal boxes.

I reluctantly accepted this as the standard until the weight of conformity became unbearable. I hesitated to confess to my friends and peers that I had no interest in what society deemed as normal. I couldn’t feign excitement over the latest celebrity, song, or movie that supposedly represented my culture. If it didn’t align with my genuine interests, I lost interest entirely. Eventually, my disinterest in these superficial pursuits led me to lose interest in those “friends” as well.

How Black Do I Need to Be, to Be Black Enough?

I often found myself questioning my blackness and wondering how black I truly was. Would my ancestors be proud of who I had become? Growing up as a black girl in the United States, it was challenging to forge a strong cultural identity beyond what the mainstream media portrayed for us. While being Jamaican provided some semblance of connection, the absence of rooted traditions left me feeling disoriented and uncomfortable, unsure of where I truly belonged. If my blackness hinged on the way I spoke, the music I listened to, the people I supported, or the movies I watched, I constantly felt the weight of not being “black enough.” It was an ongoing source of stress that plagued my thoughts.

During a time when black culture was experiencing a newfound celebration, it often felt like venturing outside the established lines meant I wasn’t fully embracing and loving my blackness. It seemed as if everything I did had to be connected to my identity as a black person. Don’t get me wrong, I genuinely embrace and cherish my physical attributes—my beautiful chocolate skin and curly coils. However, when it came to relating to my fellow black peers, that was the extent of our common ground. I yearned for a deeper connection, a shared understanding that extended beyond superficial markers of blackness.

Outer Appearances vs. Inner Reality

I found solace and liberation from this stress when I fell in love with my soulmate, who happened to be the complete opposite of what society expected for me. He’s a blonde-haired, blue-eyed man who didn’t speak a word of English. In our connection, I felt a deep sense of knowing that he was the friend, the love, the kindred spirit I had been searching for. He shared the same perspective about his own culture as I did about mine. Together, we created our own world, a place where we could make sense of things beyond the mundane. In the enchanting realm we created, our language extended far beyond our upbringing. It embraced the intricate workings of our minds, our thoughts, curiosities, aspirations, and shared sense of humor. He was as wonderfully out of this world as I was. The mere thought of not saying yes to this relationship because of our cultural differences saddens me deeply.

However, navigating our cultural differences became a source of anxiety, knowing that we would face judgment and resentment from others. I anticipated having to explain our relationship and defend our choices—especially in my Brooklyn neighborhood.

I found myself at a crossroads, torn between the emotional and the logical. The egotistical feelings of judgment and societal expectations clashed with the yearning in my heart and the guidance of my intuition. It was a battle between succumbing to the pressure or following the path my soul craved. The stares and rude remarks weighed heavily on me, but I chose to trust my good feelings over my anxiety-ridden guilt.

From an external perspective, it was clear that we hailed from two distinct worlds. Yet, as we delved into our own realms, we uncovered a beautiful truth – we were truly one in the same. In this shared journey, we realized that it was the rest of the world that stood as outsiders, while we created a sacred space where our souls aligned. Our connection surpassed boundaries, reminding us that the deepest connections often transcend the superficial divisions that society constructs.

Choosing to follow the call of our hearts, we embarked on a journey hand in hand. With him by my side, I flourished on a transformative journey, exploring the dimensions of our minds and unraveling life’s mysteries together. We ventured into ideologies that deepened our understanding of the human experience and the world as a whole. Hand in hand, we healed emotional wounds and nurtured our inner child. Choosing love led us to a profound connection, where we thrived on a shared adventure of growth, discovery, and boundless love.
I relied on the wisdom of my third eye and the guidance of my heart to define my true self—at least who I was becoming at that point in time.

As I navigated interactions with people beyond our little world, it became evident that my perspectives and interests set me apart. Some labeled me as careless, others as uptight or even whacky, and many couldn’t understand my fascination with concepts like vibrations, frequencies, so-called “conspiracy theories,” and spirituality. Even my own parents, especially my mother, struggled to comprehend this “new version” of me. In a moment of frustration, she boldly questioned, “I think…you don’t even know who you are… Tell me—who are you?”

Digging Underneath My Skin and Into My Soul

In that pivotal moment, when my mother posed that question, I felt the world around me stand still. In my head, a whirlwind of thoughts swirled, each claiming a piece of my identity. I was growing, evolving, and embracing life in new and exhilarating ways, becoming a version of myself that I genuinely respected and loved. Yet, the weight of that question silenced everything, like a DJ abruptly halting the music, leaving only the sound of crickets echoing in the room and in my own mind. Who was I? How could I possibly encapsulate an answer that felt so crucial? It wasn’t merely about standing up to my mother; it went beyond that moment. I yearned to showcase the profound self-assurance I felt within. It dawned on me that walking this earth with an unwavering knowledge of who I am is an audacious feat. It goes beyond narrating my personal story or outlining my character traits and mannerisms. That moment became a wake-up call, a reminder that I never wanted to fall short when confronted with the question of self-knowing.

Yet, in that very moment, in a meek whisper, I proclaimed that I am a warrior. This question persisted in the back of my mind, mocking my chosen words: “What kind of warrior speaks this way?” it taunted. A new challenge presented itself—learning to be as confident in the outside world as I was in my personal realm. It felt disheartening to feel insecure about both my blackness and my inner spirit, as if my strength was being undermined. It was incredibly confusing, as I had firmly believed in not limiting my identity to my physical features and upbringing. The alarming realization that I lacked a deeper understanding of myself left me feeling lost.

While I reveled in the newfound freedom of embracing my authentic self and finding comfort alongside another, I recognized that these were simply the expressions of my thoughts and the workings of my mind. They did not wholly define who I am. This revelation sparked a profound contemplation: What truly lies at the core of our existence? Is the purpose of our journey to unravel the mystery of our true selves? This newfound quest to understand the depths of our being became a captivating adventure, guiding me towards a greater understanding of our human existence.

This realization became a turning point, urging me to redirect my attention inward. Strengthening and embracing my true warrior spirit became the path that would lead me to a place of confidence, both in the world around me and within the depths of my own being.

Yet, the warrior spirit emerged as just the tip of the iceberg, a glimpse into the vastness of who I truly am. With each step, I discovered that I was so much more than the warrior within.

The warrior within simply became my guide, leading me on a transformative journey, where I unearthed hidden strengths, unraveled layers of self-doubt, and realized my true potential. It was through embracing the warrior within that I learned to embrace the entirety of who I am, and in doing so, I opened the door to a life of limitless growth, authenticity, and self-empowerment.

As human beings, it is natural for us to seek identification and a sense of belonging. When asked the question “Who am I?”, my brain instinctively searched for familiar answers. However, I have come to realize that my character can be defined by anything I choose or that has been chosen for me. Yet, beyond these definitions, I have discovered the magnificent truth of who I truly am.

…So, Who am I?

In this breathtaking realization, I broke free from the shackles of allowing my avatar—the external world—to dictate who I should be and how I should think. I became acutely aware of the pervasive influence this world holds over us, constantly shaping and molding our identities.

I am not just a mere individual, but an embodiment of the Universe experiencing itself in all its grandeur. Within me lies the essence of a creator, a powerful goddess, a force capable of shaping worlds. I am the compassionate guardian, the empathetic protector, akin to the mighty Jupiter.
It is with profound reverence that I recognize my duty to honor my ancestors existence. I see the realization of my mind’s full potential as the greatest tribute I can offer—an homage to the brilliance and aspirations of those who came before me.

In this profound tapestry of existence, I am interconnected with every reflection of all divine essence.

I am you. Just as you are me.