I could say I'm the result of my parents:
I'm organized because they raised me to be,
Intelligent because they gave me those genes,
Short for the same reason- at 4' 10' I'm as tall as I'll ever be.
But I know there's more than just that to make me Me.

I could say the thoughts in my head were influenced by the books I've read,
That my way of thinking is directed by all the words in someone else's head,
And that even though half of these people are dead
They live on with the readers like you and me.
But I know there's another reason my mind thinks as Me.

I could say all the little habits I live every day
Were first watched when I saw someone else do them that way.
I saw my mother’s reserved behaviors and made them my own,
I watched Nickelodeon and learned how to crack a joke,
And all my memories as I acted upon these things could very well be what made me Me.
But I know I'm the only person who truly acts like me.

I know that genes made up my body,
But do genes decide how I cut my hair?
Or chose the color I paint the finger nails my body grows,
Decide what clothes my body will wear?

I know books influence my way of thinking,
But who decided which books I want to read?
Wasn’t that Me?

I know there's not a habit in this world for me to pick up that wasn't someone else's first,
But when I saw someone bite their nails I didn't bite mine too.
Instead I paced around my room, not even knowing where I got it from.
No one chooses my habits any more than my clothes or my books.


I chose those things because I liked them.
Because I wanted to.
I chose the things that make me.
So then if you asked me, "Why are you, you?"
I'd say, "Because I want to be."