Growing up as a Lebanese Maronite Catholic has always played a large role in shaping and defining me. As a child, I traveled to Lebanon many times, where with my family I would immerse myself in the culture, indulging in the food, dancing to the music, and learning the language. In America, I attend a Maronite Church, have Sunday dinners at my grandparents' house, and participate in traditional activities.

My trips to Lebanon were the highlight of my childhood summers. For a month, we would live in the mountain village where my dad grew up. I considered it a fantasy land, where roosters would crow in the morning and fruit trucks would roll by with ripe treats spilling out of them.

All of our cousin’s houses were on the same block and throughout the day we ran in and out, often stopping for a fresh meal. We could easily find other children to play with in the church yard, where we could kick around a ball and work together to ring the heavy bell. We were allowed to stay up late and walk to the center of the village to buy ice cream at hours of the night we had never seen in America.

Each month, there was a feast for a saint and we would walk outside our house into streets filled with music, games, and food. My sister and I would have our faces painted and devour crepes slathered in chocolate. It was always hard to go, leaving behind my happy place, but I was always eager to come back and share my summer adventures with family and friends back home.

I used to be very open about my culture. I would return from Lebanon with the memories still fresh in my mind, and I would share them with all of my classmates. I loved to introduce my close friends to the songs I enjoyed so much, and invite them over to eat the different foods. However, as I have gotten older, my heritage has begun to serve as a separate part of my life as opposed to a major piece of my identity.

I continue to devote my Sundays to my religion and nationality, however on Monday, I am someone else. At school, very few people know where I am from or what my culture entails.

None of my current friends have ever heard a Lebanese song, or tasted a Lebanese delicacy. When I tell them I have a church picnic or party, they do not know that means helping my grandmother serve food, and talking to hundreds of people in a language they have never heard. Nobody at school knows that I can dance a traditional Lebanese dance, or that I can follow along with an entire Maronite mass.

Throughout the years, balancing these two parts of my life has grown more challenging.

I always enjoy spending time with my friends, but I never want to neglect my family.

I intend for my heritage to remain as a central part of my life, but I do not want to stand out because of my culture. As life progresses, I know there will be many more situations in which I may have to choose one side or the other, but I also hope for a future that allows both sides to reunite once again.