Otherness

A poem that explores the experience of feeling caught between different worlds and finding strength and self-love by accepting all parts of one’s identity.

On this broad, sun-drenched beach,
waves tickle my toes,
whispering secrets with each rush of water.
     Lawd, but it's both lonely and perfect here!

I'm just standing. My story written 
in sun-kissed skin,
these Caribbean shades that 
never quite fit in;
constantly torn between worlds
that keep pulling me apart.

Not Black enough, 
     some say,
my curls too loose,
eyes too like a cat’s.

Not White enough, 
     others whisper,
my features too soft,
skin that browns too easily in the sun.

My heart? It's got 
its own weird beat,
dancing awkwardly 
     between cultures,
like some mashed-up playlist—
sometimes it's beautiful jazz,
sometimes it’s a country ballad
that hurts something fierce.

But right here, 
where water meets sand,
I'm finally learning 
to love my inner girl-chile,
this mixed-race (mixed-up) 
island lass from Jamaica,
where mornings burn bright
and evenings bleed color
with that, 
     tomorrow will be better 
vibe.

I'm trying to own my weirdness,
all my contradictions,
these identity crises 
that come and go:
shifting like these tides,
never the same, 
but always me. I'm this crazy 
patchwork of experiences,
sewn together, yes, with love;
every stitch—
tells a story,
holds a memory,
reveals something real.

So I breathe in that salty air,
inhale scents of home,
hearing whispers from those 
who came before,
who danced under these same stars,
who taught me it's okay to be different,
to love these colors, 
these flavors that make me, me;
to plant my feet when waves crash,
and to love myself hard,
the way the ocean loves the shore.

Something's opening up inside me,
catching a perfect breeze,
and I can't help smiling—
a small taste of freedom,
as water laps against my feet,
reminding me that
this body,
this heart,
they're part of 
my wild journey.

Listen, I'm more than 
     just skin,
more than 
     just hair;
I'm vast 
     like this ocean,
wild, powerful,
and finally...
     Enough.

Author’s Note

I’ve rewritten “Otherness” many times over the years. I originally wrote it in my twenties, and it comes from a place deep inside, where feelings about identity and belonging often live. Growing up between worlds can feel like walking a tightrope—never fully in one place or the other, always balancing different parts of yourself. I wanted to capture that tug, that quiet struggle, and the moments of strength that come from embracing all sides of who you are.

The ocean and the beach serve as a backdrop here because they remind me of constant movement and change, yet also of something steady and true beneath it all. Like tides, our identities shift and evolve, but at our core, we remain ourselves.

This poem is also a celebration of heritage, of the rich colors and cultures that shape us. I left Jamaica and the Cayman Islands when I was 16. I had just begun to discover who I was, and then that self-discovery got complicated by trying to adapt to an unfamiliar environment.

Ultimately, this poem is about learning to love your reflection even when it doesn’t fit neatly into other people’s boxes. There’s beauty in that complexity, and I hope this piece encourages you to find peace in your own unique stories.

Upcoming…

• Micro-fiction romance pieces:

  Love Spaces, 7 February 2026

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