My relationship with my identity as a black woman has always been complicated. As a mixed and pretty white passing person, I& #39;ve always felt (and been outright told) that I& #39;m too black for white people and too white for black people. 1/?

I was raised by my mom& #39;s side, the Greek side. My brother and I are the only black people on that side & the only other poc is my cousin& #39;s girlfriend. I& #39;ve always had little contact with my dad (yay drug addiction!) & his side, which led me to identify more with my Greek side 2/?

It took me a very long time to figure out my place in the world as a black woman. Tbh, I& #39;m still figuring it out. It was confusing, especially as a teenager, that I was black enough to be called the n-word, but white enough to be told that "I& #39;m not actually black, just brown"3/?

As a biracial person whose always had trouble with identity, I& #39;m more confused than I ever was. I am horrified and enraged by everything that& #39;s happened, but there is still a part of me that& #39;s telling me I& #39;m not actually black, or not black enough 4/?

To feel afraid. That I am just a white ally, and not a black person. I have no idea where I& #39;m going with all of this, but I& #39;ve finally had time today to sit and get my thoughts out. My blocking finger has seen a lot of action in the last hour or so from shit I& #39;ve read. 5/?

I can& #39;t think straight right now and Carter is getting fussy, so I& #39;m going to end this here. Don& #39;t be a fucking racist. 6/6