Growing up in Palestine, I was born into a world where my identity was predetermined for me. I was labeled as an Israeli, without any say in the matter. This identity was imposed on me at birth, and I was expected to conform to it without question. But as I grew older, I began to question this identity and the narrative that came with it.

I was born into a Zionist colony, a place where the ideology of Zionism was deeply ingrained in every aspect of life. It was a place where the Israeli identity was celebrated and glorified, while the Palestinian identity was suppressed and demonized. As a child, I was taught that being Israeli meant being superior, and that being Palestinian meant being inferior. This was the reality I was born into, and it was a reality that I struggled to accept.

But as I grew older and began to educate myself, I realized that this identity was not something that I had chosen for myself. It was something that had been fabricated long before I was even born. The Israeli identity that had been imposed on me was not a natural or organic identity, but rather a constructed one. It was a product of political agendas and historical events, and it had nothing to do with who I truly was as a person.

The more I learned about the history of Palestine and the Zionist movement, the more I began to question the validity of this identity. I discovered that the Zionist movement was founded on the belief that Jews had a right to a homeland in Palestine, and that this belief was used to justify the displacement and oppression of the Palestinian people. I also learned that the Israeli identity was created as a means of erasing the Palestinian identity and laying claim to the land.

As I delved deeper into my own identity crisis, I realized that I was not alone. Many other Palestinians, both inside and outside of Palestine, were also struggling with the same issue. We were all born into an identity that was forced upon us, and we were all trying to break free from its constraints. We were all searching for our true identity, one that was not defined by political ideologies or nationalistic agendas.

But despite the challenges we faced, we refused to let this fabricated identity define us. We refused to let it dictate our thoughts, beliefs, and actions. We refused to let it erase our Palestinian heritage and culture. Instead, we chose to embrace our true identity, one that was rooted in our history, our land, and our people.

Today, I proudly identify as a Palestinian, and I am no longer confined by the limitations of the Israeli identity. I am part of a resilient and resilient people, who have endured decades of oppression and injustice, yet continue to resist and fight for our rights. I am part of a culture that is rich in history, traditions, and values. I am part of a community that is united in its struggle for freedom and justice.

My journey to reclaim my identity has not been easy, but it has been worth it. I have learned that our identities are not something that can be imposed on us, but rather something that we must discover and define for ourselves. And as a Palestinian, I am proud to say that my identity is not fabricated, but rather authentic and deeply rooted in my connection to my land and my people.

In conclusion, being born into the Zionist colony in Palestine and having the Israeli identity imposed on me at birth was a challenge that I had to overcome. But through education, self-discovery, and a strong sense of identity, I was able to break free from its constraints and embrace my true identity as a Palestinian. And I encourage others who may be struggling with a similar situation to do the same, because our identities are not something that can be fabricated, but rather something that we must define for ourselves.