I am from suburbia

where the PTAs are a little too involved

where people are dangerously unconcerned about crime

where not playing soccer somehow made me inferior

where kids have never even seen the inside of a city bus

I am from eating Indian curry and Thai stir-fry instead of hamburgers and spaghetti

and multiple vegetables often gracing our table simultaneously

and fruit being eaten freshly cut, perfectly ripe, and always in season

and pickiness that I am slowly growing out of

I am from family legends

the time Aunt Lori was left at Safeway and walked two miles to get home

the time my sister said “water did it” when she had been playing in the sink

the possibility that I show facial features from my dad’s absent biological father

I am from the fourteen countries that have a red pushpin on my world map

the first-hand look at Basque separatism

the mysteries of Pompeii

the incredible strength of the Egyptians who built the Pyramids

I am from near-tragedy

my baby cousin’s skull-fracturing fall that I could have prevented

my dad’s pre-cancerous spot; what if I hadn’t asked him, “Daddy, are you sick?”

my 7^th grade concussion which took me years to fully recover from

I am from my college experiences

friend-sandwiches that calm my tears,

almost-somethings and almost-somebodys,

being shamed and being proud,

“we’re old enough to know better, and we’re doing it anyway.”

I am from fears conquered

the dark

dogs

being alone

the unknown

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Welcome to Microvember, my take on NaBloPoMo. Each day this month I’ll be posting microfiction, short vignettes, or poetry, accompanied by photography. See more Microvember posts here. 

This piece is a repost of I’m From, published November 11, 2014.