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.