I’m a misfit. I use to think that word was derogatory but I now think it describes me perfectly & I wear the title proudly.

I don’t tell my story because I want sympathy. I tell it so people can get the full picture of who I am and how I got to where I am. Im super proud to not fit in a nice neat box…here’s just a piece of how I got here.

I grew up in Braddock, PA- a small former steel mill town just outside of Pittsburgh Pennsylvania’s city limits. It was a place where you could see the direct devastating impact that the decline of the steel mill industry and the crack epidemic had on a community.

 It felt like we were the forgotten people- no one came to Braddock who didn’t live there unless they were looking for drugs or fell on hard times and you most certainly didn’t see any white people there unless they were the police.

Poor was never a word anyone in our neighborhood used to describe themselves or their experience. It was just…normal.

My mom and dad however were committed to trying to give me a middle class experience in the ways they knew how-exposure to the arts, educational summer camps, emphasis on travel, routine therapy to address transitions etc.

Because of the pretty unusual dynamic of my life , I never really quite “fit” in any space.

I was a little black girl who had the nicest home in one of the poorest neighborhoods in the county, who went to catholic school with kids who were never allowed to come back to my house to play. A real mind fuck to say the least.

 I was an awkwardly shy, smart mouthed, sensitive kid that loved drawing, thrifting, and fashion.

 Not the kind of fashion that anyone in my neighborhood found alluring.

 I dressed like I was an extra for the movie Clueless to go outside and play in a mostly drug ridden hood where all my friends were inspired by either Mary J Blige or Lil’ Kim.

 My mom didn’t allow me to wear red nail polish out of fear that it was too suggestive, so anything mirroring a Lil’ Kim aesthetic  was definitely out of the question for me…and I loveeeeed Lil’ Kim by the way!

 “Why the fuck do you talk like that” a question asked by most of my peers during my adolescent years because they were convinced I talked “white”.

 While the white kids referred to me as a pig behind my back.

 6 is when I started assuming “the mask”.

 It wouldn’t feel safe enough to take it off until I was in my early 20’s.

 That’s a long fucking time to hide!

 & yet, it was all I knew to do to survive. 

I become EXACLTY what I assumed people wanted from me. I was still too introverted and internally awkward to be the cool girl. I was wayyyyy to uncoordinated to be the athlete.

 What did I have at my disposal that I could capitalize off of?

I became skilled at fashion- learning how to put clothes together to create visual intrigue came natural to me. Where I was from we called it “dressin’”.

& I could analyze the hell out of people…I was an excellent listener and asked questions of people that most people wouldn’t.  And for some reason, people felt compelled to tell me their deepest darkest thoughts. With my probing questions they probably felt they had no choice.

 I knew exactly what I could turn this into….

 A fashionable, powerful, bad ass therapist…& that’s exactly what I constructed in my mind.

 Think Devil wears Prada but therapy.

Everything I wanted to project through this identity, I was able to. The friction came when I wanted to develop meaningful, loving relationships. 

The thing about the masks we learn to wear are that they are not conducive to giving and receiving love. Their solo purpose is for protection and protection only.

 You wear a mask long enough and it starts becoming attached to your skin. This is what happened to me.

 When I was ready to take the mask off, I had to spend years chipping away at it to get back to who I was underneath-a kind, introverted, incredibly sensitive, loving, unsure, queer, wise little human.

 I’m thankful I’m living to tell about it.

This is my journey in removing the mask. I’m finally free.~ Audra <3

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