I am seventeen.
I am 5' 2".
I am one of many tired students that get restless when a test comes up.
I am the weary millennial anxious about a future.
I am the girl that notices the media’s delusion of what I should be.
I am one of thousands working towards medical school.
But I am not just a number.
I am not just a student.
I am not a label.
I am the smile that tugs at my lips when my brother tells one of his jokes.
I am the early morning drives to school I share with my dad.
I am the late night giggles with my mom when we have sleepovers.
I am the laughter that fills the room when I am with my best friend.
I am the tears I cried when she left to Macedonia.
I am the girl racing to the school because the bed was warm and the morning was cold.
I am the warm cups of tea sipped on frosty winter days.
I am the birds I feed when I save bread from a sandwich.
I am the book that consumes me when I read late into night.
I am the ambitions I have when I think about life.
I am not someone else.
I am the books I read, the goofy habits I have, the memories I made, and every experience that has shaped me until now.
I am still trying to figure out who I really am.