Growing up, I was always aware of my difference, although I didn’t always have the language to name it. In classrooms, community gatherings, or family events, I seemed to stand out as that one child with green eyes, thick wavy brown hair, and pale white skin. On top of that, I carried myself differently from my peers, and not in a way that was better, but simply different. I loved to learn and to socialise with a variety of people and groups; I did not like staying in one place. For a child, that difference didn’t feel like a gift, but more so felt like a spotlight I hadn’t asked for.

In Pasifika culture, we are often taught the values of humility, service, and collectivism. To be different, even slightly, or to stand out was not always seen as appropriate. It could be read as prideful or as breaking away from the group. And so, I learned to shrink myself, to try and blend into the background, even though my very being resisted it.

It wasn’t until adulthood that I began to understand that my difference was no accident. I am a child of “throwback DNA,” carrying the physical echoes of ancestor’s generations back. What once felt like isolation, I now see as connection. My face, my skin, my body, are all reminders that remind me of how identity is complex, layered, and not always confined to the present moment. Realising this transformed my perspective. I came to understand that my love for socialising, engaging with diverse communities, and learning alongside them was no coincidence; these practices were embedded in the footsteps of those who came before me. I began to see that standing out doesn’t have to contradict cultural values. It can live alongside them. I can hold humility while also honouring the unique design that I carry. Expressing difference isn’t the same as being boastful. It can be an act of representation and a way of reminding others that there is no single way to ‘look Pasifika’ or to belong. 

Through DNA testing, genealogy research, and reconnecting with long-lost relatives, I have discovered that, if anything, I am more Pasifika than I realised. I have a deep love for culture, not only by embracing the Samoan culture I grew up with, but also through visiting other islands such as Aotearoa, Vanuatu, Fiji, Tuvalu, and Kiribati. I feel a strong sense of connection to these lands, waters, and especially the people. Reading old newspaper clippings and learning about those who came before me, I realise many of my ancestors carried culturally rich bloodlines. They were chiefs, princesses, entrepreneurs, indentured labourers, voyagers. Knowing their stories and struggles pushes me to embrace my dreams and participate fully in every opportunity that comes my way. I want to ensure that I am also a responsible future ancestor for all of those who are also yet to come. 

My ability to think deeply, to advocate, and to stand strong despite the heavy currents of racism, isolation, gatekeeping and other challenges that young women, Pasifika people, and people of multicultural backgrounds face, are the very stories of my ancestors. Though I live in a different time and place, I carry their strength with me, a reminder that my story is never separate from theirs.

Self-acceptance, I’ve learned, is less about erasing difference and more about embracing it as part of your story. Today, I no longer see myself as the child who couldn’t blend in. Instead, I see myself as someone different by design and that difference is not a burden, but a responsibility. A responsibility to stand in my truth, to honour the ancestors whose DNA shaped me, and to create space for others to see the beauty in their own uniqueness.