By Kimberly Sunder

I am a part of a line of Sikh women that had their voices taken away from them at an early age. Theirs is a story of losing parts of themselves to appease their families. Unhealed traumas were passed down the ancestral line and naturally, my life started out the same way. But as a rebellious-ish child of the early 90s, with role models like Princess Jasmine and Lizzie McGuire, I was set on going against the norm in my family and breaking this generational curse once and for all! The problem was, I was already lacking the voice I needed to fight for who I was becoming. How can a young girl know how to do that when she does not see it being exemplified by the women in her family? 

As I grew older I began noticing the inherent differences between myself and my family’s dynamics and the dynamics between my white friends and theirs. I saw how they were allowed and even encouraged to voice their opinions, so I  decided to reject my cultural background in an attempt  to be like my peers. I was constantly idolizing and yearning for a “white family” that could allow me to be funny, loud and loved. I received that outside of my home with my non-brown friends’ families. Inside of my home I felt stifled and constantly feared being rejected or criticized. I felt I needed to hide who I truly was. However, I still did not have a grasp on what that meant.

In grade 10, a classmate told me I was “whitewashed.” I did not realize until many years later that she was not complimenting me. I had successfully hidden the brown-ness I was so scared they would see and mock. For years, I “jokingly” told people I was Italian. I grew up singing the praises of how Western my family truly was. “My dad and grandma were born in Vancouver. My mom immigrated when she was really young and doesn’t have an accent.” In my “white persona” I did not have the autonomy I sought and was still living under camouflage.  

Although I felt stifled at home, I always tried to convince my friends my parents were just as lenient as theirs. I wanted to come off as having “cool brown parents.” They let me go to sleepovers, didn’t care that I drank or wore makeup as I grew older. I was doing all of the things my friends were. The thing is, they didn’t know all the details.

I felt the need to hide some parts of my life lest I be looked down upon. Some of the outfits I wore were covered by a large jacket that was immediately ditched in the closet on my way out. I told the typical lie that I was studying when I was sometimes out with a friend or a boy. I have a couple friends, all white, that talk about their dating lives with their moms in great detail. That was never casual conversation in my home. 

I found myself wishing that it could be. Wanting to not have to hide certain parts of myself in order to have acceptance and approval. Friends gave me advice that included disowning or acting out against my parents. These solutions left a pit in my stomach and a lump in my throat. I knew that if I were to start living openly as I wanted, that wasn’t the path for me and neither was hiding myself. Ultimately, I valued my family and our connection deeply and sought to heal the relationship rather than run away.

In 2019, I decided to move out of the family home. I dreaded sharing my news with my parents but I view this decision as one of the most important and healing choices of my life so far.

I was living with my best friend and unlike mine, her voice was not stunted. She made it very clear that I would need to set boundaries if needed and be open in my communication with her. This felt SO daunting to me. I was not used to setting boundaries or voicing my opinions. I learned (with practice) and was able to do so in an environment that encouraged and nurtured my voice. 

I worked on creating a wonderfully loving relationship with myself that led to the healing I needed to take pride in my Sikh heritage. At the same time, I started going to therapy which aided in humanizing my mom. Prior to moving out, I was keen on creating distance between us. I did not see a life in which I could stand up to her and have her hear me. Learning how to set boundaries and implementing them with her has begun the healing our relationship needs. I have seen so much growth in both of us. Me, by voicing how I need to be shown respect and love by her and her giving me that in turn.

Closing the chapter of my double life has been a lifelong journey so far. In it, I overcame self-erasure and reclamation of selfhood through boundaries and compassion. The generational curse is breaking! I hope that if you see some of your story within this glimpse into mine that you too are able to take off your camoflauge and live free. “The road home begins with the first step. Take it. Even if it feels uncomfortable.”

Kimberly Simran Sunder is an athlete, mathematician and world renowned chef. JUST KIDDING. Let’s try that again. Kimberly is a writer and storyteller who is excited to be sharing her voice. She dreams of a world where self love and compassion are practiced by all. She is a proud Sikh woman, activist, shit disturber and chronic daydreamer. A child at heart, she is here to be living in her truth, folks!