Desirable Difficulty

I've cracked the code! I, through the help of a mentor, figured out why I am such a perfectionist, try-hard 26-year-old with imposter syndrome. It turns out, that moving countries at a young age could fundamentally alter your personality and outlook on life. Who knew?! 

Sarcasm aside, my mentor helped me realise that moving from Africa to Europe and back explains why I am keen to prove myself in any situation and why I always feel out of place. At 6, I moved from Africa - where I was a dot in a sea of black faces - to Europe - where I was the only black face for miles. Though I doubt I was cognizant of this fact, it did change the way I interacted with myself and others around me. The racial and cultural differences marked me as an "other" at an age where being part of a community was the most important thing to me (who, of course, can forget how effective the threat "I won't be your friend anymore" was at the age of 6). As a result, I worked extremely hard to fit in. I learned Dutch to near native fluency, I participated in all cultural and national holidays with more zeal than a national, and, whether conscious or a simple result of my circumstances, most of my friends were Dutch nationals. Essentially, I became Dutch in everything but birth and lost my "Kenyanness" along the way. 

When we moved back to Kenya four years later, I was, once again, the odd woman out. Four years in Europe had changed me. My accent was different, my cultural reference points foreign, and perspective alien. And my would be friends wasted no time pointing those differences out, whenever they got. Rather fittingly, they butchered my name and called me "Alien" for months. And so, once again, I had to prove myself; that I was worthy of being called Kenyan. I had to prove that I belonged; for the second time in my life, and before I had even turned double digits. The implicit lesson I learned from these experiences were two fold; (1) I did not belong, and I would always be different, and; (2) belonging was determined by others, and not myself. I, now, know both of these lessons to be false (kind of #workinprogress), but the growth they spurred in me is, largely, positive. 

This is because both of these experiences constitute "desirable difficulties." Desirable difficulties are "challenges that force people to learn new skills that prove extremely helpful later in life." So as I struggled to find my place in a world that, I believe, did not want me or had no room for me, I learned how to be adaptable and how to read, interpret and personalise culture. I learned how to communicate across cultures and negotiate cultural differences. But these lessons were not without costs. To fit in, I often emptied myself to take on new knowledge and experiences. And, as a result, I have no idea who I am or what I am capable of outside of a, near constant push, to prove myself to others. This means that success is defined by others perception of me, and not what I thought of myself. My desirable difficulty bound me to others in a way I have yet to detangle, and in ways that shape my daily interactions. In every conversation, every text, every chore I strive to prove myself. And to be honest, I'm tired of it.