I think I often times find it therapeutic to write, otherwise I think I would be a bitter and unhappy person. So where do I begin with this weeks' series of debacles?
We decided to have a house warming/ gathering. It was cool. As usual I stressed myself out, but I had a good time and I think that other people had a good time as well. Toward the end of the evening as things a winding down, there is still so much going on. My best friend is drunk off his a** and I am extremely embarrassed, pissed off and enraged, but we'll come back to this story.
There was something that deflated my spirit and actually hurt my feelings quite a bit. As we all sit engaging in conversation, I hear a ringtone with the "Sweet Mother" tune (if you are Nigerian you know exactly what song I am referring too). So when I hear this song, and express that the song is my "jam", the owner of the ringtone asks me how I knew what the song was. Here begins the my downward spiral. I proceed to inform him of my Nigerian heritage, which is soon followed by a look of shock and disbelief from the guy. This has been happening consistently for the past month and some change. Every time I mention anything that has to do with the only culture that I have ever identified with, I am met with looks of shock and disbelief.
I know you are asking why this is a big deal. Its a big deal because my Nigerian culture is who I am, it is the very fabric of my being, and it is the only thing I know. Now for the one thing that you hold dear to come into question from on a constant basis, its like telling a man he's not a man. It strips me and leaves me with nothing. I am just expressing my annoyance with the whole situation, then with my roommate constantly reiterating the fact that I sound or look a certain way has also be come the bane of my existence.
Outside of the my drunk best friend and my lack of Nigerian-ness according to some, the gathering was a success, I think people over all had a good time and that is all that matters right?
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