I am from orange couches, from Glow Worms and Lite Brites.
I am from the ranch house with blue shutters, the big oak tree in the backyard and catching fireflies in the warm summer nights.
I am from the honeysuckle bushes and hummingbirds on trips to visit my grandma.
I am from a clan of nappers and tahdeeg stealers, from bedtime stories in English and Farsi, from Southern Baptists and Muslims (lapsed, the both of them.)
I am from people pleasers and stubborn blood.
From How Much Is That Doggie In the Window and Hush Little Baby Don’t Say a Word.
I am from finding your own way. Finding hope.
I’m from Buckyeyes, Hoosiers and Persians, from lemon bars and Shirin Polo.
From the first time I said fuck under the Magnolia tree, from road trips to Ohio, and the day our dog found us.
I am from photos in the cedar chest in sticky spiral bound albums. From early morning swim practices and late night swim meets. From learning that not everyone had a family member from Iran. From parents who loved me better than anyone else could have.
I am from doing things the hard way, but being all the better for it in the end.
This little meme went around awhile ago, and I am nothing if not a sheep. If you haven’t done it, come back and link me, would ya?