[08] The Adventures of Chameleon Girl
Chameleon Girl
I wonder what my life would have been like if I'd stayed in India.
I blend in perfectly. I'm brown, speak all the languages, know the culture, and follow tradition. I would have followed in someone's footsteps and become something everyone jumps over themselves to show off. Cultured, learned, blessed, and just the right amount of everything. Life would have been so easy.
And then I open my mouth. Now, I don't fit in anymore. I, Chameleon Girl, am racing through every cultural hue imaginable to blend back in. No luck.
Suddenly, I'm too Western. I am unpatriotic, flippant, unkind, too much of everything and practically a write-off. My true colours have become unappealing now.
Well, fuck.
To whom do I owe the pleasure of this life?
Is this something I did for myself as an adult? Or did my immigrant parents guide me here?
Nobody in the family gets as much choice or support as I do. Does that mean I should be grateful for this privilege and sorry about it simultaneously?
Having visited India, I think I've learned the cost of good fortune: unrelatability.
And then, there's Rule No.6
Sometimes, we blend in perfectly but still can't fit in. So why try?
What good does it do when I am perfect instead of human?
So, despite the loud silences and canons of malcontent hurled in my direction, I decided not to take myself too goddamned seriously. Free from the expectations of response, I learned that daughters cannot save their families.
My ability to blend in will still remain. I will, of course, use it in other places; it's a survival mechanism. But now, having learned my true colours, I'd rather stand out.
This is a fever dream response to my time in India. If this resonates with you, please get in touch. We need to be friends.