I've been an extremely anxious and nervous person for a long time. I grew up with parents who had addictions, were petty, mean, abusive, and neglectful. I had few friends, the one's I had were mostly black. I was often called honky, cracker, pasty, pinky, and so on. I was made fun of for just about every feature. I was made to believe that being white was ugly, disgusting, and vile. Looking in the mirror was painful. I hated myself in my own skin.

A year ago I started exploring my Nordic roots. I found the beautiful tribal music, the drums, the spiritual callings. I had been lead to believe such things weren't for white people. I saw the braids, tribal tattoos, and painted facial markings. I had been told that for white people, these things were cultural appropriation.

An ocean and a few generations of scattered and broken families hid these things from my view. But the calling of my ancestral spirits are unrelenting.

These next words shouldn't need to be said, but in today's society I have to.

I am not racist. I don't hate any group of people based on their physical features. I know exactly how it feels when that's done. No person should be made to feel that way. I'm sharing this because I'm happy that I no longer hate myself for mine.