who are you?

I've never really liked the gap between my teeth
and I ponder my mortality more than any 18 year old girl should
My mom tells me I'm too opinionated
but I think that's because she's scared I'll grow up to be a democrat.

I've been told I give good handshakes
I think that's because I've always felt like I have something to prove,
ever since I got second place in my elementary school spelling bee,
ever since my seventh grade teacher accused me of cheating on my paper because the words I used were "too big",
ever since that boy told me that I didn't seem like the type of girl who actually had a brain,
ever since I started to dream.

I get awkward when I talk to teachers,
and I never know what to say when people cry,
I used to believe I knew exactly what my future held.
But the envelope from my dream school that I received in the mail this week told me otherwise. (Application Status: Deferred)


Today while I was writing college essays, one of them asked me:

Who are you?

Well, Admissions Committee, that's a good question.


I am:
Stubborn.
Passive.
Awkward.
Confident.
Hesitant.
Loud.
Quiet.
Passionate.
Careless.
I am:
A nobody.
I am:
A somebody.
I am:
One big walking contradiction.


Who are you?

My mom calls me Samantha.
My friends call me Sam.
The internet calls me @SamBamYesIAm.
You call me Celeste.

And as for what I call myself?

I'll let you know when I figure that out.

samantha frazier