I was the baby girl

my mother 

had always wanted.

I learned early 

that the blue water in the pool 

at the 

YMCA 

was freezing cold.

I held the wood chips 

on the preschool 

playground 

after they

pierced my skin 

when I fell off 

the monkey bars,

running inside crying, hands 

red 

with blood.

I’ve heard the jingle

of the ice cream truck 

from blocks away as 

I raced inside to get some 

coins and my bike.

I’ve held my dog

in the cold 

front hall

of my childhood home, 

crying, knowing 

that it would be the 

last time. 

I lost my grandma and my childhood dog in one year.

I struggled in

middle school 

because I was

lonely.

My friends were made

on the YMCA Swim Team,

not in school.

I looked forward to practice

everyday,

jumping in that freezing

cold

YMCA blue pool,

just so I could see them. 

I’ve had some difficult moments.

I tell you

girls who are “nice” to you

are not always your

friends,

especially in 7th grade.

I have been anxious,

for the next test in 8th grade math class,

the big swim meet,

and even speaking to others.

I saw others

who so easily met new people

and were outgoing.

Over and over 

I tried to

throw myself

into the void of society.

Although I never quite succeeded,

I was still a happy girl.

Happy to  be invited,

happy to be appreciated,

and happy to be here. 

I once embarrassed myself

in 9th grade

at my brand new school.

I once was late to class

after going out to lunch

with my parents

on my birthday.

And only once

used a shaving razor to scrape

the dirt off my leg.

Almost had to get

stitches

for the

second time.

I’ve driven through

almost every state

on the East Coast 

of the U.S.

A never ending road trip

to my half brothers

wedding.

I have cried after my 

freshman year of highschool

got cut short

due to a pandemic.

Not seeing my friends 

for months

was one of the

loneliest

feelings in the

world.

I’ve melted peanut butter,

chocolate chips,

vanilla extract,

and butter

to make my moms

delicious

Puppy Chow recipe.

I’ve often lost

myself

during times

when I needed help and

times when I was the 

happiest.

I’ve been scared by my dad

when I was

dancing in the mirror

in what I thought

was my empty house.

I have read hundreds of books,

pages so crinkly

and worn

the words are barely legible.

I’ve felt the 

excruciating pain of watching someone you love with your

whole heart

slowly fall out of love with

you.

I have picked myself up

in times where it seemed close to impossible.

I am exactly who 

5 year old me 

hoped 

I’d grow up to be.