I remember in the fifth grade that whenever my mom made me wear an itchy shalwar kameez and draw on a bindi with liquid eyeliner, I would rub it off when I stepped outside and sink into my seat in the car so no one would see me not wearing jeans. I remember feeling embarrassed when teachers couldn’t pronounce my name or when a fellow, ignorant 10-year-old would find out that I wasn’t Christian.

“Does that mean you don’t celebrate Christmas?” they would ask in disbelief. “Wow, that must be horrible, I’m so sorry.”

Until the middle of my freshman year, I completely distanced myself from the Indian subcontinent and pretended not to have any knowledge of my rich culture. Until the middle of my first year in high school, I took every racist microaggression as a compliment and prided myself in not being Indian enough.

Frankly, I have many stories about hearing little kids my age talk about my heritage in a degrading manner, or how my parents never let me take curry to school because they knew my classmates would make fun of me, or how I thought I was so lucky that I was fair-skinned. Even now, I catch myself freaking out about a tan because I won’t be beautiful enough.

I talk about India openly now. I’ll let you know that I was born in my mother’s hometown. That I am from Kerala, which is nothing but rain, sugarcane and fond memories to me.

I’ll let you know that mehndi – henna – is put on the bride’s hands and feet before her wedding in a joyous ceremony. That my bindi is a representation of the third eye and the sixth chakra worn by mainly Hindu women but also women of other South Asian religions. I’ll let you know that the Aum symbol is one of the most important symbols in Hinduism and a spiritual icon. I’ll let you know that all of these are important to me and millions of other people and are not a prop used to look worldly.

All my life I’ve been insulted for Diwali and Holi (religious festivals regarding the destruction of evil and love) and my ethnicity. I’ll also be insulted for it in the future while someone else can draw ying and yang with “henna” – another scared symbol from the Taoist faith. Or when they can wear a nose chain and then be considered accepting of “out-of-the-norm” cultures. It won’t just be me, people will go on with kimonos (used for festivals and formal events) and be geishas (traditional Japanese entertainers) for Halloween. They’ll be praised for taking a risk with getting dreads while little girls get kicked out of school for having them.

I’m so proud of who I am now, and I want to make sure everyone is proud of where they’re from. I want to make sure people understand that you can’t pick and choose what you think is cute from a culture, whether it be their slang or language, their religion or clothes, then mock us for embracing it. I want to make sure people know that there’s a difference between the verbs “appreciate” and “appropriate.”