I think, often, we get to preoccupied with what we are not. We do not stop to consider those things that we are, both the good and the bad.

For example, I am anxious. I am sleepless nights and tears on my pillow because of the way my mind races when the sun goes down and I am alone. I am not confident. I am every look I get when I walk into a room, and every small error I notice when I look too closely into a mirror. I am every failed attempt to wear those shorts from last year, and every tear that almost escapes when I find something really beautiful that just doesn’t fit. I am the endless mantra of "You're so much bigger than you should be," in my mind, and I am the kick in the gut every time someone else notices.

I am hard to talk to; I am every little silence when my mind is running a million miles per minute and yet I still can’t think of the right thing to say. I am every text message my finger hesitates to send, and I am a never ending chant of “no, don’t send that, you’re being annoying and they’re going to hate you.” I am every name I was called in middle school, every snicker and whisper of “pizza face” or "freak" that was meant to be quiet but always felt like a punch in the nose. I am every time I’ve ever failed. I am that endless silence on stage when I forgot that monolog for my first college theater audition.

I am that test that I never studied for because I couldn’t figure out how to make the words stick in my endlessly chaotic mind. I am the people that left me. I am every friend that always wanted to be somewhere else, with someone else. I am every time I got pushed to the back of the group on a crowded sidewalk, and I am that one, those two, those three close friends that either left because I simply wasn’t good enough or hurt me so much that I just had to let them go. I am my fears of moving on. I am every football game I came back to at my old high school, every weekend I spent at my parents’ house desperately trying to recapture the safety of my childhood that I felt there. I am the weekends I missed out on that my new friends invited me to, and I am that little voice in my head that told me they were only doing it because they felt bad for me.

But I am much more than that. I am the arms my favorite person wrapped around me as I cried out of fear of the future and fear of failing myself, and I am every understanding nod when someone tells me about their difficulties with anxiety. I am every time I’ve had to protect a person I love, and all the times I made things just a little bit better for someone. I am every good day I have when I look in the mirror and think, Hey, not bad. Not bad at all. I am every compliment my friends or strangers ever gave me. I am those late night hugs that make everything feel safer, and I am every time I thought of just the right thing to say. I am every time I tell someone I love them, because when I say it, my whole heart means it.

I am every positive text message I’ve ever received; every “this reminded me of you” and “thanks, I needed that” that has come my way. I am all the good grades I made in school, and I am every essay that came back to me with a big smiley face that let me know that it was okay to not excel in every subject if you just know what you love most. I am standing ovations and applause from audience after audience. I am that joy I feel when I hit the high note just right, and the blush that crosses my smiling cheeks whenever I pick up a microphone.

I am a hopeless amalgamation of everyone who loves me. I am my mother’s kind smile and my father’s quick wit. I am my sister's infectious laugh and playful insults between best friends. I am silly text messages with the friend that never left, and group photos of smiling faces with some who never will. I am car ride karaoke sessions and the serious talks in between songs. I am the way my dog lights up whenever I come home, and I am every moment in my little sisters’ lives that I haven’t missed. I am those shows and movies and books that make me laugh, even when I haven’t spoken to anyone all day, and I am the food in my fridge that I am not ashamed of eating.

I am every beautiful or tragic thing that has ever touched me. And I am every problem I’ve faced and overcome. I am complicated, kind and honest. I am anxious, calm and collected. I am loved and deserving of love. I am, and I am not a great many things.

And, really, we all are.