I am from fold-out couches, from Kid Cuisine and As The World Turns. 

I am from the house with the old cars. The car lot where nothing is for sale, but everything holds its value. 

I am from the radishes, dragon snaps, and fallen leaves. The flowers that never grew and the weeds that were always taking over.

I am from tattoos and curly hair, from Sarah and Barbara and Ken.

I am from the speaking without thinking and always having the final say.

From "be nice to everyone" and always being the princess.

I am from finding my own God. From whatever makes me feel complete and I can put my trust in. Free from unquestioning faith and love.

I am from Freedom and Richmond, from potatoes and peas to backyard barbequed burgers. 

From the grandfather who played foodball professionally before it was popular, and without a helmet, the father who tattooed all his childrens' names a few days after they were born, and the great-grandmother, who brags about her eight great-grandchildren, who is silently hoping for a ninth.

I am from Santa Cruz. From boardwalks and beach concerts and hole-in-the-wall taco shops. Places too big to capture, but I always took something from them. Learning that happiness is hidden, and that local is lovely.