The past two years have been the longest I have ever spent away from the small Indiana town that I call home. Every time I get a chance to go back, I have a strong sense of nostalgia. Regardless of how eager I was to leave, I miss my hometown and all the people inside of it. And leaving again is always like saying goodbye for the first time. My home is where my roots are planted, where my limbs have grown, and although I have stretched them quite far these last couple years, it is there where all my fondest memories lie, where the people I love reside, and where the biggest parts of me were molded.

My first semester of college, I was forced to take one of those “first year” learning courses, where they’re supposed to teach you all about transitioning to college and becoming a grown up — blah blah blah. While most of my time in this class was finishing homework for another class or even snoozing, there was one particular assignment that caught all my interest: writing a poem titled “I am From.” I had never been a big fan of poetry —mostly because I never understood it — so I surprised myself when I fell so in love with this project. During this assignment, I was able to reflect and consider what, in my nineteen years of life, had made me into the person I am. And it led to me learning more about myself than I’d ever known.

I am From

I am from God’s country; a place where traffic lights don't exist, but cornfields go on and on and on and on;

I am from slow Indiana sunsets, leaves that change colors in the fall, a place where you can see the stars;

I am from long walks down dirt paths, swimming in the creek, and barefoot backyard baseball;

I am from french fries dipped in ice cream and “Go on and have another slice of pizza;”

I am from morning coffee with my mom — because that’s when it tastes best.

I am from country music, but mostly Kenny Chesney songs, like “California” and “The Good Stuff;”

I am from a barn where I learned about hard work, and dedication, and responsibility;

I am from a softball field where I became an athlete, and a teammate, and a leader;

I am from sweat, bruises, and tears;

I am from hugs, smiles, and laughter;

I am from respect, integrity, and grace;

I am from having a big heart that wants to inspire others.

I am from a home made of love and forgiveness, and Jesus, and the lingering smell of candleberry;

I am from my father’s sarcasm, hard head, and passion;

I am from my mom’s sensitivity, stubborn personality, and insightfulness;

I am from my own insecurity, habits of overthinking, and inability to make a decision….ever.

I am from “always do your best, but we’re proud of you, no matter what;”

I am from “the cancer’s back,” “life’s not fair,” and “God, what are you doing?”

I am from “God will give you what you need in time,” “Just do what you do,” and “I love you’s;”

I am from “there’s more room in a broken heart;”

I am from “you’re so pretty!” But pretty is not enough — Beauty can change the world.

I am from everyone knows everyone, being famous in a small town, and I just gotta get outta here;

I am from daring to dream, being brave, and longing for freedom;

I am from long goodbyes, lonely nights and homesickness,

and missing my family everyday.

I am from “never live in the past, but always remember what brought you here, for it is your roots which have made you who you are.”

The beauty of this poem is that it is never finished. As my journey goes on, I continue to stretch my limbs and grow, and I discover more and more about myself. Every now and then, I come back and add to my poem, noting some new impressions life has made. Without fail, each time I read through it, tears swell in my eyes when the words paint a picture of my home, because that will always be the core of where I am From.