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This could be an ugly subject if you, like I, was raised WITHOUT an identity.
Too white for most to even consider you to be anything else. To consider your feelings of isolation. To want to belong. To need to. Yet, attempt to make contact with anyone of your "RED BLOOD" or "RED SKIN"(the insults got worse, though, most around me did have Indian blood in them as well)family and you get told, "Whites do not belong with us." Sound like a bad B rated TV flick? Yeah, try living it as I did and have A B rated TV flick where your lines and plots are already scripted out.

Want to guess how long I followed that script? If you guessed, "Not long" or "Not at all", well done. I refused to be told what or who I was or am based on other people's eyes. I have too much of the natural wind in me to base myself upon what other's sees as me.
I have the heritage of Cherokee and English on my mother's side. Seminole on my father's side. Yes, I know that Seminole and Cherokee are of the same tribe. Most, however, do not know or wish to acknowledge it. That is their loss. Unfortunately, with such an issue among my family, it leaves me knowing even less than I could and should about my ancestors. Thus, further isolation. Further, sneering if I should chance a trip to ask of people of my past. I get the, "Why would you want to know that? Why do you care to know that? It is nothing to you." Because, I am White to them. THAT IS MY IDENTITY in their eyes. While I was INDIAN while I grew up and was out in the sun all the time. Until my step father said I should spend more time indoors. This came(not that I missed this mind you)as I started to develop mature curves. The sun faded from my skin and hair. I looked more like his daughter and son in coloring which preferred TV to playing outside.
Even then, I was trying to figure out what I was. I would sit and read at libraries trying to find someone of my family that I could contact to get answers. I never did. All of my family was either dead or too far away. Was not known or no one wanted to acknowledge any letters I sent. When I went to one reunion I received distrustful glares and suspicious attitudes. Clearly they felt I was not one of them. A few of the bunch, numbering 3 to be exact spoke with me. One was to take down what information I knew of my family and my husband's family. When I named my father, I seen shock upon his face. He even ask if I was certain? It seems my life was complicated before I was ever conceived! Can anyone

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