I was the one who knocked her head on a piece of furniture leaving a scar by my eye.
I was the one who slammed my head over and over on the smooth wooden floor.
I was the one who learned to trust the velvety warm love of my mother.
I was the one who learned not to trust the unpredictability of my father who punched a hole in the scratchy white wall making it crumble to the ground like hail in a thunderstorm.
I was the one who learned he was a bitter and hot-tempered person.
I was the one who held my sister in a hug when her eyes shed tears that watered down her skin, her glasses not strong enough to catch the outpouring of emotion.
I was the one who heard the piercing screaming and stinging yelling of the person who would disrupt and beat up everyone else’s lives.
I was the one who learned to hear “I love you” from the frightened touch of a hug, when my mom didn’t know who to trust because of him.
I was the one who held the fears of fading away from those who love me.
I was the one who made friends who see in me a person who loves people who treat her right.
I was the one who sensed the warm moist tears falling staining the soft smooth skin.
I can tell you the signs anxiety, from hyperventilating to swaying back and forth, over the confusion of an algorithm problem.
I have experienced want when I wasn’t given the dolls and toys I wanted.
I watched a police officer shoot a blinding taser to shock and control the insanity of my father.
I have felt the pendulum of love and fear, like perfumed air and acid reflux, as I learned to embrace my mother and undo the damage of my father.
I witnessed a lifeless loss in a harsh pink casket as it closed with a cold harsh boom. The  bitter clanging of the smooth coffin being closed forever sealing a lifeless body in a silky pink dress. My salty tears ran down my cheeks as I was saying goodbye to my partner in crime, my video game buddy, my aunt.
I’m still the one who rocks back and forth in a chair.
I once was a kid with no one there for me to trust except my mother and my sister.
I once was a small kid breaking down with anxiety over not being able to draw an article of clothing.
I had and have my best friend, my sister.
And only once did I have love for a father who continued to hurt me.
I’ve driven through the rich green valleys to icy snow-covered mountains.
I have family that lives a long drive away, nestled between the hot dry desert and the chilled beauty of the mountains.
I have a fluffy cuddle bug right by my side calming me down and putting me to sleep for a couple hours.
Ive melted into pure smiles when holding my baby brother and sister each for the first time. Their dainty, silky hands touching my face and smoothing my skin for the first time. 
I miss the giggling voice that left with my family that moved far from home.
I’ve been afraid by a blaring noise of “Thriller” by Michael Jackson.
I am the one that knows I can always count on my mom and my sister.
I know the feeling of the sharp dense rock scraping my knee from tripping over something.
I have a loving family who can share everything with each other.
I am an adult woman with many sides to her personality, shaped by the love of those around me.