I am from the books I’ve read, from Harry Potter and Catcher in the Rye.
I am from plaid skirts and collared shirts on school days.
I am from the rhythm and colors of the sea, and from the stillness and coolness of the springs.
I am from family dinners and the importance of education, from mastering sheets of arithmetic homework to writing essays in the beautiful silence of two in the morning.
I am from laughter and from song, from potential and effort.
I am from church every Sunday and I am also from my Bible gathering dust in the windowsill.
I am from one of Florida’s small towns, from stone crabs and scallops.
I am from my favorite red lipstick and the sixteen dollar red party dress I bought in college, rarely worn. I felt so beautiful in them, so bold. I am not from the color red.
When I forget where I am from, I search through old pictures on my phone. I am smiling with a past friend. I am reminded of the school play, of her laughter when we joked backstage, of everyone singing the reprise of “Tomorrow.”

© katiewrites