I am…

I am…

A friend, loyal to a fault; offering my ears, my voice, and my heart.

A sister, a second mother to Sydney, my best friend, future travel companion, and the person I’ll grow old and bicker with. Forget boys, she’s my soul mate and partner in all things.

An eldest daughter, the experiment child, the one that must meet all the expectations and be the first to fail, and the one that will leave in a few short years, leaving behind everything and everyone I hold dear for a sliver of independence and self-discovery.

A wanderer, seeking nothing, fearing nothing, craving adventure and enlightenment, making lists of places I want to see and things I need to do, hoping the world’s wonders don’t sink before I get the chance.

An athlete, united under one team, a plethora of stinky knee pads and swollen ankles, working hard to get better, fighting for victory.

I am…

Drinking tea on the back patio, surrounded by friends and family, listening to the adults preach about and question space, pop culture, and religion or lack thereof.

Sitting around a camp fire after a long day’s river float, most likely sunburnt, Dad making bratwursts and potatoes, Sydney playing with the puppy, and Mom smiling after a long week of work.

Surfing various social media sites way past the time I told myself I’d go to bed.

Driving the jeep on Sundays with Dad riding passenger along muddy back roads.

Listening to Madison’s latest piece of gossip, out of love and respect, despite wanting to change the subject or walk away.

Singing along to Collide by Howie Day, alone in my car on the way home from school, probably butchering the lyrics, but having a grand time.

Flying to close to the sun, hoping my wings don't melt.

I am…

Grey, fuzzy socks on a cold December evening.

World maps, pens, and paper.

Dad’s copper red hair, Mom’s lips and nose, and some long-dead relative’s dark brown eyes that 

Sydney and I share.

Online shopping, then broke, then Pinterest.

Bare nails, uneven eyeliner, and never really quite put together.