The Empress Series Entry 01: To the Girl with No Identity…

6–9 minutes

It was the fall of 2017, and I’d just unpacked the last suitcase in my college dorm. It was my first time away from home—my first time living in a country all by myself. 

I didn’t know what to expect … or how to prepare for the unexpected. Attending a fashion college taught me a lot about myself, and the first thing I learned was that I was light-years away from what I believed was my aesthetic. 

I’m a girl into everything black and grunge (and perhaps even goth, but that was a far cry from my true essence). When I entered my first illustration class, I truly thought my skills were on par with some of the other students I was seated with. But I soon learned that I was very wrong. 

Compared to everyone else, my art skills were subpar and not nearly as good as I thought they were, and that’s when I started thinking that I wasn’t good enough. 

My earliest fashion renderings before being accepted into FIT.

I thought high school was tough, but no one told me that going abroad could easily put a damper on your identity. 

In fact, many people experience this thing called ‘culture shock’ where, for the first time in their lives, they feel out of place. A sense of belonging is ingrained in each of us, so trying to find your place in the puzzle can be difficult, especially when you’re living in a country with cultural norms completely different from what you’re used to.

I wish I could say it’ll get better with time, but as time goes on, you’ll find yourself navigating a series of changes, trying to discover your true, authentic self while also trying to fit in. Perhaps, like me, pretending to be the outcast seems like the best option. 

But … being the outcast only made me feel lonelier. 

At the very beginning of my college experience, I thought to myself, “Everyone is so expressive, and I’m not.” 

I truly wished to be the girl in eccentric makeup, wearing an outfit that made me stand out, but in New York, where everyone is eccentric and stands out, everything just feels normal.

New York is the city where you could be anything, anyone, and no one would notice because, in New York, where anything is possible, it means everything is possible, and people are simply blind to uniqueness and differences. 

However, I had one thing no one else at my school had, and it took me years to figure out what made me stand out. 

One of the classes I took that first semester was an art class that made me doubt my worth and my skills. However, as a Caribbean girl who decided there wasn’t enough Black representation in fashion illustration, I made it my mission to learn to render darker skin tones. 

If I’m being honest, I wasn’t completely aware of how difficult that process would be, and even more shocking, I didn’t understand that who I was greatly impacted how I portrayed myself. 

My first fashion illustration collection in FIT.

That fall, I walked into my fashion illustration class hoping to render darker skin tones—or at least learn how. But my illustration professor basically discouraged me from doing this. It wasn’t a direct statement, but it was a very subtle head-shake in the direction I wanted to go. 

I still hadn’t discovered my illustrative style, still wasn’t sure (or even confident) in my own artwork, and certainly doubted every action I took. When she’d said to me to ‘lighten’ my complexion, she was, in a way, telling me that being me wasn’t good enough. 

Certainly, she wouldn’t have known that she was saying that to me, but I was a Black woman in a strange new world with strange politics, and being frightened of a culture that made me believe that my skin was something to be afraid of, I wasn’t all too sure if I was good enough for the fashion school I was in. 

On presentation day, when we had to showcase our fashion portfolios, a Caucasian girl chose to present hers inspired by African culture, and I was deeply upset. 

I was a Black girl who grew up in the African Diaspora. The Caribbean is home to many cultural blends, but what made my background so unique was how much of our West African heritage we still maintained through our lifestyle.

I had a culture. I had a unique story to tell, and I certainly had an interesting perspective on what Black culture looked like, but I didn’t share my story. 

And that’s when it all started.

Illustrations from my third year in college.

At that time, even though I grew up in a Christian home, I questioned a lot of the things I learned in the church, and though I believed in God, I didn’t think I believed ‘in the Christian God’. Yet this ‘Christian God’ had a unique way of weaving Himself into a storyline where He’d eventually become the main character.

It was the beginning of a journey that He’d take me on—a story He wanted me to tell. I just didn’t know it yet. 

This question comes up often, especially when we find ourselves in situations where we have lost some part of our identity. As a young woman attending school in New York, I doubted who I was and questioned everything I knew about myself. 

However, experiencing God for the first time made me realize my identity wasn’t found in my personal ambitions, my desire to succeed, or even the girl I was trying to be. 

My true identity was found in Christ. 

In the very first book of the Bible, we learn that we were created in His image (Genesis 1:27), and in Genesis 2, we discover that God breathed His very breath into us so that we might become living. 

During the fall, we lost that connection, and this ‘image of God’ that we were created with became broken. 

Galatians says:

For those who received the Gospel of Christ, to those who accept Him, we have the RIGHT to become children of the King.


Regardless of gender, socioeconomic status, ethnicity, race, or cultural background, once we are believers in the promise, we are one in Christ. 

God’s Word For You

You are chosen by God to fulfill a greater purpose in His plan. His desire for you was predestined, and now He’s calling you so that His will can be fulfilled through you.



Signed,


To the Girl With No Identity…

Entry 01 – September, 2017

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