Amisha Piplani reflects on her cross-cultural identity but also her yearning sense of freedom to belong.
“I wish I could match their freak,” said the 12-year-old Amisha who was asked to change into jeans because the construction workers in her house can’t see her tween legs.
“I wish I could match their freak,” said the 14-year-old Amisha who was sexualised in ninth grade for hitting puberty earlier than others.
“I wish I could match their freak,” said the 17-year-old Amisha whose parents told her she couldn't go to her high school farewell party because it was late at night.
“I wish I could match their freak,” said the 19-year-old Amisha who wanted to go on a road trip with her girlfriends, but couldn’t because it wouldn't be safe.
“I wish I could match their freak,” said the 20-year-old Amisha who oh so desperately wanted to go to a real party.
For me, matching their freak always meant living freely, like the girls in the American shows who seemed to have endless possibilities. Growing up in India, with its rich culture and deep-rooted traditions, doing whatever I wanted wasn’t even a possibility. My parents, steeped in their love and protection, always did what they thought was best for me. My mum often reminded me, ‘Do as the Romans do,’ a phrase meant to encourage me to fit in and adapt to my surroundings.
In the midst of this balancing act between my desires and societal expectations, I missed out on the seemingly-essential parts of growing up. I watched the girls online experience things I could only dream of, and though I never blamed my parents, a part of me always yearned for that unrestrained freedom.
Breathing in the Aussie air at 22, it felt like a whole new world. The Aussie world was a breath of fresh air – the diversity, the no-one gives a fuck attitude, the Mardi Gras parades, the Chinese New Year festival celebrations. For the first time, I felt I could truly be myself. It was like shedding an old skin and stepping into a version of myself.
“I wish I could match their freak,” I thought again, but this time it was different. I saw the girls back home, those who ate their mum’s homemade cooking every day, who were surrounded by the warmth of family and tradition. The girls who knew every festival by heart, who danced at weddings with abandon, who wore sarees with grace and pride. But as I walked through the CBD looking at the beautiful big buildings, a newfound realisation dawned on me.
I wouldn’t trade this freedom for anything in the world. The freedom to be unapologetically me. To explore and grow without the weight of expectations. The freedom to dream bigger, to chase after what I want, to live a life that feels true to myself. This freedom was my freak, my way of living boldly and beautifully.
“I wish I could match their freak,” said the 22-year-old Amisha, who finally understood that freedom is not just a destination, but a journey. It’s the journey of knowing that life, with all its ups and downs, is a tapestry of experiences that shape you.
So, to the girls who wished they could match my freak, know that you’re already living a beautiful story. And to myself, who wished for the freedom of the girls on TV, know that I’m finally living mine.
The world may look different from where we stand, but the essence of who we are and what we seek remains universal. Here in Australia, I’ve found my place, my voice, my freak. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and more.
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