Making sense of your story

Life as I know it began in a small town in Dundee Kwa-Zulu Natal. My mother was a beautiful Zulu woman who tried her best to provide for her children, however she had to make the decision to leave my sister and I at the local hospital, hoping that we would be found by loving families and given a better chance at life. Fast forward a few months and I was blessed to be found by a wonderful Indian family whilst crawling around a childrens' home in Pietermaritzburg, KZN. Little did I know, that would be the beginning of greater things, the something that my mother had hoped for when she had made the decision to leave me at the hospital.

Like the title of this post, there comes a time when you need to make sense of your story and I felt that I had done this pretty well in my teenage years, I mean it was quite obvious from just looking in the mirror everyday that I was different, but most importantly loved unconditionally. It was made known to me very early on in life that I was different, especially when I was laughed at by the primary school children because I was not an Indian child even though I was proud to declare that I was a Naidoo when asked. The glances my way became normal every time I walked with my family- especially noticeable to those close to me but a daily occurrence that I had recognized(and to this day) as being normal.

Moving to Cape Town and being immersed in a melting pot of different cultures, languages and stories helped me to analyse and make sense of my story on a much deeper level. Forget the superficial part about how I looked when surrounded by family and friends, but by understanding my true identity. My eyes were opened to the divide between Black and White both in university and outside. With people carrying around the horrors of South Africa's past that is still manifesting in every aspect of life and haunting those who lived it, or who's parents, grandparents and great- grandparents struggled through it. The most difficult time for me was during Fees Must Fall- where I felt my identity was most tested. Was I Black or White? Was I betraying one or the other race if I felt a certain way or decided to join the stand against inequality.

But then I had my light bulb moment, I did not have to pick a side but rather embrace who I was and my background. I embrace the mixture of culture and racial diversity within me and around me. I embrace my imperfections, my strengths and my weaknesses. Instead of finding my identity in this world I found my identity in Christ- and this is when I experienced inner peace. Every person deserves to look in the mirror and say that I am fearfully and wonderfully made. I am loved and I can love others. I was created for a reason and I am here to make a difference. I now choose to share my story with pride. I look forward to a future South Africa where growing up Mixed race becomes a normality. Where everyone is loved and accepted for who they are and are treated with respect and dignity. Where no race is superior to the other and where all stories and lives matter.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oOy3bw7iSJw this is a link to a quick video titled: The First Step to Finding Your Identity