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I AM FROM

I am from the old part of Mercy Medical hospital where I almost didn’t even exist,
I was born cold and with a blue body that was deprived from oxygen by my umbilical cord, doctors’ cold gloved hands bring me to life.

I am from the warn used boy clothes that don’t fit right. It’s cheaper for my parents that way. Hamydowns from my brother to me, my favorite was the Jeff Gordon, matching red and blue shirt and shorts that was scratchy feeling and had his face and car on it. I wore because my family liked NASCAR, so I like it too. Even though wearing it made some think I was a boy.

I am form the multiple lamp lightened basement that smelled of must and mold and was cold and damp, but full of adventures, hours playing store with my little kitchen set with plastic food and a cash register filled with monopoly money. Playing Barbie’s by myself because I had no kids my age in my neighborhood to play with. Playing hide and go seek with my brother on top of the cracked, dirty, damp, spider and pincher bug infested floor without a care in the world, making my brother’s and I bond stronger the more we played.

I am from my grandma’s were I spent most of my child hood weekends at, watching the same old movies like “Big Daddy” and “Mrs. Doubtfire” every time my brother and I stayed over even though I was tired of watching it multiple times, I watched it because my brother wanted to watch it, Playing bingo at grandmas and at the legion hall where she cleaned, winning quarters playing bingo, spending those quarters at the kwik trip down the road buying snacks or even on a rare occasion renting a movie. I’m always saving up my money for the next visit to grandmas, unlike my brother, who blows it all in one shot. I learned to conserve my money, rather than waste it.




I am from the Kids WB Saturday morning shows, getting up at 6:00 am to just watch Pokémon, Digimon, Power Rangers and Jackie Chan Adventures and a lot more with my brother, just because he like them, so that made me want to like them too.

I am from lectures told by my dad. through his lectures staying silent, nodding when needed, say “yes” and “no” when he wanted me to answer, minutes, hours, even a day later, after the lectures, apologizing to each other and exchanging “I love yous” with tears. But forever making me grow up to learn to hide my true feelings, being afraid to speak against him during his lectures and making it hard to show who I really am to others and to speak out.


I am from a mom who always appeared at my events and activities like softball, chorus concerts and plays that I had minor roles in when I was in middle school and elementary school, showing up with a smile playing on her face. Praising me even though I knew I did badly. She being there for me, how her parents weren’t there for her when she was little, to attended her events and knowing how she felt, and did not want me to also know how it felt.

I am from two parents whose life was rough, so in turn they tried to do their best for me, molding me like a glob of pink Play-Doh into a girl who respects all and makes the right choices even though desperately wanting to chose bad. We had our ups and downs and are still having them on occasions. But in the end everything is repaired with “I’m sorry”, “I forgive you”, “I love you”, tears and hugs and kisses.



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