"Don't let anyone tell you who you are; you show them who you are." Vice President Kamala Harris' words, echoing her mother's lessons, resonated with me on the final night of the 2024 Democratic National Convention (DNC) on Thursday, November 22nd. My story might have started differently, waiting to live and allowing people to give me labels to tell me who I am because I shared my stories with them, but as we keep living and learning, we can all find our way home—to our center. It's about getting to know ourselves, accepting who we are, and teaching others how to treat us.
It is good to be writing at this moment, free from the painful stories of the past. I heard Oprah Winfrey say at the DNC that our freedom ain’t free. When I visited the Pentagon with my sister, Retired Lt. Col. Pauline Haughton, and learned about the work of NATO, that was the first thought that came to me. At this moment, that thought just came to me because the freedom from those painful stories cost a lot. Because I can see thoughts before they attach to the painful emotions of the stories, I say that I wouldn’t trade anything for my journey. At the same time, I speak up and share with the hope that because I learned late, someone else will learn early.
Most times, I just want to share the happy stuff, but I know it would not be my whole truth. I am glad that I shared some stories back when I was in the thick of it all. I could share them with you here now. You can read two papers that I wrote in 2015 and 2016, telling my stories and advocating for change: Just Me: A Series of Reflections on Trauma, Motherhood, and Psychiatry and Where Would I Be If I Didn’t Believe in Me for the Absolute Prohibition campaign.
When I was trying to find my way, others shared their stories with me. Oprah Winfrey talked about her grandmother telling her to watch and learn how to hang clothes on the line. Even as a young child, Oprah’s soul knew that wasn’t her path. Similarly, my soul created a perfect situation for me to awaken in this lifetime. Born on an island without television, I was fascinated the first time I saw a movie on the big screen. During my darkest hours, I knew I needed to find my way back to that joy. But without guidance, I doubted myself and often chose the wrong people to share my story with while seeking help.
Yet, the little girl inside me, observing the world with fresh eyes, sensed that something was unjust. I sang Redemption Song by Bob Marley and Destiny by Buju Banton. My soul knew, even when my spirit was broken, that it was trying to rise and awaken. Though I didn’t realize it at the time, I rejected the role I was cast in within a caste system—a topic for another day. Today, I want to focus on acceptance and forgiveness.
Once I accepted that there was no going back, I focused on how to move forward, and then I learned that being present is where the stillness and peace lie. When I forgave my parents, I was able to put the shame where it belonged, preventing it from consuming me. I reclaimed my confidence and self-worth.
Experiencing oppression at home and in society, such as when teachers planted fear in me, made it worse. I remember my seventh-grade homeroom teacher who said he would punch me in the face if I were a boy. When that memory resurfaced years later, I realized he wanted me to fear him and avoid looking him in the eye. I was twelve years old and had only been in America for four years. I hadn’t yet learned the self-hatred that James Baldwin spoke of.
I’m grateful to Oprah for shows like Super Soul Sunday, Lifeclass, Masterclass, and Where Are They Now. I must admit, lying on my couch watching daytime television, I’m thankful to Oprah for bringing spirituality to the mainstream. It was an exciting time because I was doing a lot of pondering, and having these spiritual teachers share their life experiences validated my human experience. It was the perfect support for my slow yet steady progress. I was thrilled by the language of the spiritual and soul journey.
One thing that stands out when I watch those videos is realizing how much the body keeps score. I could feel the oppression—not just from the psychotropic drugs that restrained my joy, but also from the societal oppression I had internalized, which stifled my expression. The forgiveness for those who harmed me hadn’t yet come. The anger was suppressed by fear, while my joy struggled to rise. Watching myself, I see someone trying to break free from chemical restraints and the fear that oppression instilled. My tone was childlike, shrunken, and small. I held on to phrases such as "success is the best revenge." What I believe now is that to live this human experience fully, with access to all my emotions, is success. Stifling the anger, I found, also stifled the joy. Practicing forgiveness allows more empathy, gratitude, and compassion to rise—to be here now.
Episode 3: Pruned