Feeling Like a Ping Pong Ball

 I've had a lot of conversations lately that swirl around what I pathetically describe as a "reckoning". 

I have talked to a few people in my life surrounding having to reflect so much on my past and childhood racial issues - this reflection stemming from my parents divorce and accompanying shame of having a white father who didn't hold space for other parts of me (us).
I have these constant thoughts of if my dad hadn't done the things he did, I wouldn't have had this figurative mirror placed in front of me. Maybe I wouldn't have to work through all of this now. 

Discussing how exhausting it is to always be explaining myself and who I am because it doesn't fit the person's idea of me that they've prematurely constructed.
Reiterating that I am Filipino, with a period, and that's the only thing I want to need to tell someone. Perpetually just wanting it to be enough.
How I feel like the ball in a game of ping pong - being tossed around from end to end. Flung from both sides continually. Part of this discussion landed on the fact that I haven't been able to find a Filipino community, and I always feel like it's because I'm not Filipino enough. I'm too "white washed", I can't speak our mother tongue, and I just don't blend in. But I miss it, and I can't begin to describe the yearning. 

Here I am, swimming in the guilt of living so much of my life allowing others to put me down, shove me in (or out of) spaces, and define me. Not knowing how to navigate this in my current life, but also not wanting to be forced to follow the rules of others. 
Battling the undertow of being undermined and actively misunderstood by those who wouldn't bother to listen to me anyway.
Trying to wade through radical acceptance. 

Accept that there is no way I can remove the white parts of me, no matter how hard I want to or try (okay sorry, just kidding, I haven't totally accepted this yet).
One of my best friends told me that I probably need to purge this out of me. I can't exactly remember how she put it, but to paraphrase? Something like I need to take it out of me, this negative thing that can't grow where it's been stuck for so long. It needs to be removed in order to make room and progress. Honestly, this is one of the most clarifying/relieving/validating things someone has said to me, and I'm so grateful to her. 

Attempt to accept myself as I am, when I struggle constantly to do that. Even though I know my own self acceptance is the answer, it still doesn't take away from the acceptance and belonging I crave from people who can't offer it to me. How sad it that, searching for something from someone who has nothing to give, when I could just give it to myself, and continuing on this vicious cycle.

Above that, accept that my dad was probably, most likely, if at the very least internalized - racist. Because of course, when we had signs that other members of the family were. Checks out?
Having to ask myself why he would excuse himself from our community's gatherings; why he never went to the Philippines for family trips; why I can never remember him embracing most parts of our culture, save maybe adobo and sweet spaghetti sauce. The most palatable, easily digested things.

And accept that I carry the guilt of not realizing this slow erasure until now.
Too late to save what's been lost, what's been buried and left for dead.
I'm just trying to dig it up, revive it. Hoping that every time I communicate with someone the journey I have to go on, I breathe life back into my cultural experiences. Every time tears flow together with words, I become less and less vitreous; no longer looked through, but at; as a bi-racial, non white passing, Filipina woman with strong roots, heart flitting towards a place separate than her feet. 

For all the nights I spend lying awake on my notes app, trying to make sense of my spinning thoughts and losing sleep - I search in the dark for the ways I honour the present versions of myself and move forward.