I Am Not a Single Story - Anonymous

By Anonymous

I Am Not a Single Story

like everything on this planet i am a product of my environment. of everything that came before me everything i’ve felt, noticed, or not noticed.

i come from dadima’s kisses. from my childhood home in the southern Californian foothills. the heat. my parents’ love, my parents’ fights. the tears. i come from cardamom and cumin and cinnamon sticks and Allah. the orange towel i’d wrap myself in as a child getting out of the pool. my mother’s voice she acquired by surviving Midwestern winters. my little brother’s smile. i come from the ocean. the smell of sunscreen. my sister’s hand-me-downs. from weekend trips to LACMA, the aquarium, and Half Dome. i come from rain.

i was raised by my mother, Mother Earth.

she opened her green, blooming, luscious hands and gifted me with my father, my mother, my sister, my brother. my family. she taught me to observant and to question everything around me.

i was taught to fear what i do not yet know. to respect nature and all her creations. i was raised to be compassionate. to think before i speak. i was raised to know how to light my own fire. to flick the light switch on when it’s dark outside. to know when to ask for help. i was raised to listen to love.

this is who i am. and this is where i come from.