I’ve managed to disguise myself quite well in my current environment. However, there is always a part of me that can never fully assimilate.

And that is fine. When you move countries at an early age, you have it easier than your parents or your grandparents. You have the world right in front of you, waiting for you to grab it and make the best out of it.

Still, there is always an emptiness that can never be quite filled, even with your new close friends, favorite foods and opportunities.

That doesn’t mean you aren’t grateful to be where you are, because you truly are. Many would kill to be in your place.

At the same time, immigration can feel like you have arrived as a last puzzle piece with a factory error — you almost fit, but not quite.

I’ve moved past most of the initial feelings that come with immigration, like the culture shock of communicating with people who grew up with an entirely different mindset.

After six years of being in the U.S., I can confidently say I’ve built a life filled with love and happiness for myself.

But I think that life has come at the cost of many things.

Recently, I remembered a past interaction, and I began to reflect on one of the first times I felt shamed for not coming from a more well-known or “major” country.

It was a conversation I had with my high school boyfriend. He used to play soccer — or still does, not sure. But anyways, I remember being super excited to share that one of my childhood friends back home from Georgia was the grandchild of a famous Soviet soccer player.

I also recall the excitement leaving my face when I heard his sarcastic retort that “if the soccer player was a Georgian, he must be super famous then.” He chuckled and brushed it off, but it was a painful reminder to me.

I know it must’ve been a joke. However, something deep in my heart began to sting.

I just recall feeling so belittled, like a child who was put in the corner for a time-out because they were simply being a child.

This feeling has followed me throughout my life. It comes out when teachers just say my first name because the length of my last name intimidates them. I feel it also when my accent has accidentally slipped out — and has gotten pointed out by others around me.

Now, with friends, it’s all love, fun and games. But sometimes, if you make a joke often enough, it begins to rot inside you like an untended wound.

It becomes rather hurtful, being so close and yet so far from everything — life itself. You connect, but the pain of being hurt so many times lingers like a chronic migraine.

But in the end, it is true when they say that what doesn’t kill you ultimately ends up making you stronger.

Yes, I’ve had to deal with unfairness because my family and I have an accent or because my last name might be too intimidating for the average Joe, but that has never stopped me from chasing after what I want and getting it.

There is no redo, no coming back from who you are and where you came from — so be proud of it.

I wear my name with pride and love my culture regardless of the attempts others have made to jab at it.

I do not let hate linger in my heart for those who might’ve been hurtful to me. On the contrary, I am grateful for these instances, because they’ve fostered my self-love even more.

I know a lot of people who have dealt with the same or have had their family and friends deal with it.

Let this serve as a reminder that every human, regardless of where they came from, has an immense amount of love and value to offer to a world filled with so much hatred and pain.

Let’s not turn on each other and instead appreciate our differences, for it is those very qualities that make us unique and not bland.

Who wants to be the same person anyway? That would be so boring.

Go after what you want, despite the noise, insults and the attempts to put you down just because your passport isn’t blue.

The shame I’ve dealt with as an immigrant has shaped me into a person who doesn’t back down, who believes in herself and tries again after failure. Life has dealt us so much, and yet we’ve persevered.

After all, since when did a border define humanity?

Don’t be afraid to be who you are, because that is how you will get to where you want to be. And if anybody is bothered, let them be.

Till we meet again,

N.