Over the past year i have struggled with my identity as a Sikh woman. i constantly questioned the way i look and how i participated in Sikh spaces and circles. i was asking myself if there should be hair on my face, if i should be adorning a dumalla, and why i always found myself face to face with men who looked as if they were the closest to god, but were actually the farthest. i juggled with my existence, both physically and mentally, so furious but deafened with grief because of the complexities i had to stomach. i isolated myself for months hoping no one would notice but at the same time wishing someone just would. i now realize that the pain i was given was the most perfect – it made me understand that i would always be where i was supposed to be, and had every god given right to exist as much as those around me. i had to celebrate and applaud for the parts of me that no one else could, or even wanted to. i convinced myself to be loud, full and present. even though there are days where i juggle knowing this and struggle living up to it, i understand that growth and healing will never be linear. but i do know that the unconditional love and understanding i offer to myself will always be infinite.