My body is made from the hundreds of other females before me,
who managed to stand in a world so twisted.
I am made of the arms that were sacrificed from harsh labor in the fields,
arms that shielded above their heads from the abuse,
arms that held tight to protect and love.
I am made of their brown skin,
delicate and warm, drawing in the sun.
I am made of their lips,
that used to hesitate, silenced for speaking out their mind.
Proud but bruised for standing for their sisters.
Now I am those lips, I am those silent words from driven deep into their heart,
small but loud when she speaks.
I am their tears of frustration, sadness and happiness, so built up over the years,
It has become an ocean where I learned to swim.
I am their stories, filling me with endless time, preserved memories.
I am the life they breathed into me one last time.
You are yourself.
But you are also the result of your ancestors,
who have given you the chance to live a life that they could not
Do not forget who you are.
About the author
Rebecca Benitez-Berona is a reporter at Youth Mind. She is passionate about social justice, creative writing, reading poetry and youth mental health. When she is not writing, she is exploring nature or trying out yet another new bubble tea shop.