Kenya-Finding the Lost Puzzle of My Existence
I wake up each day with just a little bit of dread. It’s something I can’t put into words, but I’ll try.
It’s been this way as far as I can remember. Have you ever had that feeling that you think you know yourself pretty well, yet you know, deep inside, you don’t? But you just shrug it off, thinking, why shouldn’t I not know myself?
The everyday hum of life kept me from really looking at myself.
But then, something remarkable happened. One day, I looked in the mirror while I was cleansing my face. I looked. I peered into the mirror. A random thought came into my mind.
Who am I, really?
I saw in the mirror a woman with large, beautiful, expressive eyes. Full luscious lips, white and even teeth. Golden brown skin, decorated with intricate drawings. Hair, delicate yet untamed.
But who am I, really?
I began to dig a little deeper. You see, I grew up in New Jersey with a Hispanic upbringing. I grew up identifying as Latina. Strong, fierce, and proud. Bright, beautiful, and bold. My ancestors were from the Dominican Republic.
If you’ve ever been there, or even know about it, you’d realize that the Dominican Republic has a rich history and culture. It eventually evolved into a Spanish-influenced country, with many of its citizens being of African ancestry.
It was right there and then that I felt I was really looking at myself and really wondering who the hell I was. Am I this way, because of my name? My family? My community?
Who am I, really?
Am I the Jessie that I am now because that is what is expected of me? Do I have these beliefs ingrained in me, or are they really my own?
As I slowly massaged the cleanser onto my face, I felt that I was also slowly peeling back everything of what I am, or who I thought I was.
So, here I am. In Kenya.
I’ve always felt a deep connection to African countries. There is something about them that calls to my soul. Maybe it’s because of the shared ancestry I have with them. Growing up Latin American with African roots, I thought I knew enough about me to feel confident about myself.
Kenya is an eye-opener. The moment I stepped on its grounds, I felt an instant connection. It was electrifying – like I was coming home to a lost part of me. Kenya called to me. Kenya sang to me, like a mother softly crooning a child to a calm sleep.
I could feel that there was something here that was going to change me, fundamentally. I’ve always felt I suppressed the strong feminine spirit in me, in some kind of way. But being in Kenya, the bold colors and the strong aesthetic made me recall the hidden strengths I somehow kept to the side.
I started to discover that there were things that were important to me that some people didn’t consider important. And I found out that it was okay. It was okay that they didn’t think like me or that I didn’t think like them. It was okay.
It was okay to be just me.
That’s how it started.
That’s how I slowly started to discover the real me.
Kenya took me to another place in myself that I thought I didn’t exist. Or that I somehow lost. You know what I mean? It felt like, when I got to Nairobi, I discovered the kid in me again. The expansiveness of the landscape made me think that everything is possible. Life is full of options.
Even the shape of the trees as we sped by seemed to welcome me and remind me that life is about love. We just complicate life with things and ideas that we think should happen, waiting for love to prove itself.
The vastness of the plains, the heat of the sun, and the blue sky all made me think more deeply. The beauty of the Kenyans, their hum of everyday life, and their laughter and smiles I see and return showed me that Kenya is full of life, full of possibilities, and full of hope.
In spite of the outer beauty, I could only reflect on the inner me – the turmoil that brought me to this part of the world to find myself, to add more to myself, and to learn to be myself.
I wanted to be like Kenya, I suddenly thought to myself, to be free, to be full of possibilities, and to be reminded of the great things that I possess.
Of course, I couldn’t ignore the amazing views and experiences Kenya had to offer. The beauty of it merely made me contemplate on my life so far. Because I was so far removed from the realities of my life back in New Jersey, the trip to Kenya only made me look at my life journey from a more distanced perspective.
I realized I had some blind spots in my life. Some of my beliefs were so unconscious that I wasn’t so mindful about my daily life choices because they had become so instinctual, so deeply ingrained in me that everything had become automatic.
It was a huge realization in my life. I know for some, it isn’t. But for me, it was huge.
It was a paradigm shift.
Mindfulness. I learned to deconstruct what I knew as I was growing up. I am learning to unlearn things I believed were life truths. I was slowly unraveling my beliefs, some of which were toxic, and discarding them. Keep only the things that bring you joy, I told myself.
Being in Kenya, and being with Kenya, I began to pick apart everything that I thought I was. And from those, I began to take those beliefs that would enable me to love myself more. Those that didn’t serve me well, I left them on the ground. I left them on Kenyan ground.
And I left them there because some parts of me belonged with Kenya. Those parts served me well, some didn’t, and some had run their course. It was time to let go of the ones that didn’t help me grow.
And I realized that this trip to Kenya is not just about visiting Kenya. It’s about revisiting me. And the more trips I have, the more revelations I will probably have about myself. And that is the most exciting journey of all.
Listen, I was initially supposed to write about the beauty of Kenya in this entry. But instead, I am writing about something more infinite – I am writing about the beauty of becoming the authentic version of me.