I am Metis. My father is white Canadian. My mother is Algonquin. My identity has changed throughout the years and continues to do so as I grow older and as I struggle to find my place within society. As of today, I sometimes suffer from imposter syndrome. I sometimes cannot shake the feeling of not belonging. I have only heard stories of my mother past daily life. I did not share the same reality as her while growing up in my household outside of Ottawa. I will never truly understand what it is like to grow up with my peers within one’s culture and one’s attachment to Mother Earth whilst having these memories tainted by a history marked by oppression and scattered with tragedy. It is not to say that I haven’t experiences myself some of the consequences of being indigenous in today’s modern society: growing up, my traits and my overall physique were much more telling of my heritage. I had dark hair and very distinguishable features. I looked like my mother and my peers noticed. I was teased and taunted in many ways. I remember wishing to myself that I could look like my bullies. I wished to erase this physical heritage that I had been gifted with. I was in denial and did not want to hear my mother’s stories. I have heard all the stereotypes Indigenous people are given. I have witnessed abuse towards some in the streets. I was scared of who I was and the meaning of it. But I grew older. I grew wiser. I grew curious. I grew emotionally. I grew more courageous. I grew to find out that some things don’t matter, and others do. My facial features changed. A love for my culture emerged, but that is also when the impostor syndrome also first appeared. I became white. I finally got what I wished for all those years during my youth. Today, I often say I am white passing, that I have this privilege. I know that I am privileged in many other ways. I had access to the best education of all levels that my parents could offer me. I did not have to attend a school where students aged 6 to 17 attended with too little teachers and resources. I was privileged to grow up with all the opportunities I could have wished for. But there is one question that I ask myself often… At what cost? Some would say I am lucky. Although some would say I get the best of both worlds, I strongly disagree. As the Metis I am, I still feel the effects of the colonialism of indigenous people deep down inside of me.