Dutch | Surinamese Creole
As I got older, I started to understand more about myself. First I realised I was bisexual, later that I am a trans woman, and eventually I discovered that I am neurodivergent. Suddenly a lot of things made sense why I never really felt like I fully fit into most groups. I was often the only queer person in a foreign friend group, or the only foreigner in a Dutch friend group. For a long time, I tried to hide parts of myself, my neurodivergence, my Surinamese background, and my queerness just to fit in. That’s something I later regretted.
Growing up Dutch with a Surinamese Creole background, I always knew I was different not because I felt different, but because people told me I was. Comments like “you’re brown”, “curlyhead”, or “exotic” were normal to hear. I didn’t really question it at the time because I grew up mostly around Dutch people, and in my mind I was simply Dutch with a mother from Suriname.
In secondary school, I became more aware of race, identity, and how people see each other. I met more people from different backgrounds and started to realise something confusing: people didn’t see me as Dutch because I didn’t look white, but people with foreign backgrounds often saw me as “too Dutch”. It was a strange place to be, and I often felt lonely.
After secondary school I studied journalism because I always loved writing, art, nature, politics and travelling. But even then I still found it difficult to fully express myself. Only in recent years have I started to truly embrace all parts of my identity my multi-ethnic heritage, my gender identity, and my neurodivergence. I began going to anime, fantasy and nature events where I could connect with people through shared interests, where my identity didn’t have to be the main topic.
Travelling also changed my perspective a lot. Visiting countries across Europe and later Cuba, Ecuador, Zambia, Zimbabwe, Qatar, Jordan and Morocco taught me to appreciate both similarities and differences between people. Now, after ten years, I’m going back to Suriname again. It feels like coming home, even though I know some people there will probably still see me as foreign. But now I’ve learned something important: identity is something you own yourself, and belonging starts with surrounding yourself with the right people.