Growing up, I never really felt like I belonged anywhere.
Being a dark-skinned Afro-Caribbean Latina woman comes with experiences that are sometimes difficult to explain to people who haven’t lived them. Growing up, I often felt like I was different in rooms where all I wanted to do was exist and be myself.
In middle school, it felt like everyone was against me. By high school, it seemed like people had already decided they had a problem with me before they even knew me. The funny thing is, I was never the loud girl. I was quiet, observant, and very much in my own world. I wasn’t someone people could easily walk over, but I also wasn’t someone who needed to be the center of attention.
I think a lot of people mistook my silence for something else. What they didn’t understand was that I had a whole world inside me that they knew nothing about.
My childhood made me observant. It taught me to pay attention to the things people don’t say, the energy they bring into a room, and the difference between what someone shows you and who they really are. It made me strong in ways I probably didn’t even recognize at the time.
For a long time, I wondered what it would feel like to fit in without having to think about it. But somewhere along the way, I stopped wanting to.
I realized I didn’t want to spend my life trying to become someone other people could understand. I wanted to become someone I understood myself.
And honestly, I think that has followed me into my artistry.
Look around, and you’ll see so many artists doing similar things, following similar trends, and trying to recreate what already works for somebody else. There’s nothing wrong with that, but I’ve always felt pulled toward doing things my own way. I don’t want to create just to fit into a box. I want to build something that feels like me, even if people don’t immediately understand it.
Maybe that comes from being the girl who never felt like she belonged anywhere. Maybe when you’ve spent so much of your life feeling different, you eventually learn to stop treating that difference like something you need to fix.
And luckily, trusting my own instincts has been working for me.
There’s so much about me that people don’t know. So many stories, so many experiences, and so many sides of me that haven’t had their moment yet. Some of you might be here because of my music. Some might enjoy my personality. And some of you might simply be curious about me, trying to figure out who I am beyond what you see on a screen.
I think that’s the beauty of it. You can look at someone every day and still know so little about them.
I’m learning that I don’t have to tell everyone everything all at once. Some stories deserve the right moment. Some parts of me will always remain private, and others I’ll share when I’m ready.
But if there’s one thing I want people to understand, it’s that there’s so much more to me than what meets the eye.
Behind the beauty, there’s a story. Behind the quietness, there’s a mind that never stops observing. Behind the music, there’s a girl who spent years feeling like she didn’t belong and eventually decided to build her own world instead.
And maybe that’s why I’m not afraid to do things differently anymore.
I spent enough time in my life feeling like an outsider. I’m not going to spend my future trying to become an insider.
I’m not here to fit into somebody else’s world. I’m here to build my own.
And if you’re curious enough to stick around, you’ll get to see more of it, one chapter at a time.
With love,
Narii 🦋