When I was a child, my parents used to repeatedly tell me that I was “one in a million”. At the time, I hated it. It was a constant reminder that I was not like my friends, not better or worse, simply different. I would spend my Saturday evenings learning ballroom dancing with my grandfather; my free time, reading Victor Hugo’s masterpieces or figuring out ways to make the world a better place.
Growing up, I realised that having trouble fitting in was, in fact, not a curse. Being an outsider gave me the space necessary to observe the world around me, as I was attempting to understand its people, struggling to decide which part I wanted to play, who I wanted to be.
Finding myself has been an intricate task. I have travelled North to South, East to West to figure out who I am. Along the way, I have developed a curiosity for different cultures, and have learnt to accept my own, through an internalised approach of tolerance, respect and compassion.
I have led many human rights campaigns to put my principles into practice. Along the way, I discovered that not being afraid of raising my voice would be my greatest asset in life.
I have allowed myself to step out of my comfort zone and question my own ideals. Along the way, I have become resilient and learnt to face challenges with a positive attitude.
Today, I am still not sure of who I am. However, I would disagree with my parents. I am not one in a million. I am a million. A million ideas, a million tastes, a million aspirations, which may all be conflicting, but make my life worth living.
The future is more than uncertain, but I am looking forward to seizing it.
On the side : Gotan Project- Last tango in Paris