I believe everybody’s identity is different. This is something I dealt with for most of my life. For as long as I can remember, I always had identities that weren't quite like the ones of people around me. When I was 3, I moved to Massachusetts. Going to a foreign place at an age before I could even properly speak in my mother tongue, Korean, I couldn’t communicate with anybody. I vaguely remember, with the help of my preschool reports that I never talked with anybody, clinging to my family in attempts to get away from the scary foreign Americans. I remember crying every night, wishing to be back home in Korea. However, I quickly fit into my life in America. By the time I was ready to go into kindergarten, I was one of the most outgoing students in my preschool, striking conversations whenever I had the chance. I lived thinking I was American, memories of Korea already forgotten. I didn’t understand whenever my sister reminded me that we were different than our friends, callin