Amid everything unfolding in our world and communities, it’s understandable to feel uprooted—drifting from one moment to the next. You might feel lost or deeply connected to current events, yet still sense a lack of grounding. Sometimes it’s as if you’re being pulled in different directions, gradually losing touch with your core values and beliefs, perhaps even forgetting your roots. This is especially true when surrounded by the chorus of polarized voices echoing every side of countless debates.

In therapy, I often meet people who can describe what they’ve experienced but only in a way where they are disconnected from the story. They know the facts of their past, but they struggle to articulate and honor where they’re truly from—not simply in terms of a place, but in terms of texture, spirit, and lineage. It’s important for us to pause and remember where we came from so we can show up as our fullest selves. That’s why I love using the “I Am From” poem.

Originally crafted by poet George Ella Lyon, this poem inspires us to reflect on our identity by revisiting the subtle yet significant memories of our early years—the comforting sounds and scents of home, treasured and tasty meals, culturally unique sayings, familiar family traditions, meaningful moments, and even the challenges we faced. It’s not about crafting something flawless. It’s about reconnecting with who you are.

As a Puerto Rican woman born in Chicago, I feel an increasingly strong pull to reconnect with my roots. I believe this journey will help me understand the profound emotions I have experienced regarding current events.

Here is my “I Am From” poem:

I’m from clear plastic couch covers that cling to your skin on sweltering summer days- from sofrito and Sazon, the essentials that flavor every meal.

I am from wicker fan chairs and clown figuras on the glass coffee table, from Abuela’s cinnamon apple tea con leche that filled the cold winter nights as novelas played on the TV.

I am from too-many-houseplants stretching their long limbs to connect by the living room windows, their growth a vivid memory tangled with my own.

I’m from chuchazo, capicu, and chiva domino games, and a bold, in your face, tell-it-like-it-is kind of attitude.

From Jibarro Carlos and the once-exquisite Margarita.

I’m from Saturday morning cereal and cartoons, followed by Saturday cleaning with loud disco and Dusties music booming through the house.

I am from, “If you keep on making that face, it’ll get stuck that way”, from Vicks and 7up as cure-alls, and when I was hurt, the soothing song – “Sana, sana, colita de rana.”

I’m from Parrandas on Nochebuena, with asopao de pollo, simmering for everyone to share.

I am from the South-Side of Chicago, Back of the Yards neighborhood, but my roots run deep into Puerto Rico –mi isla del encanto– where arroz con gandules and puerco frito are more than food; they’re part of how we lived and loved.

I am from a name on a birth certificate that means little, because you’re always something else: Gordo, Flaca, Futbol, Mimi, Lola, Duno.

I am from Saturday evenings, sitting on the couch admiring my mom and dad practice their Salsa moves as sounds of Puerto Rico filled our home.

I’m from my mother’s black, silky, fitted dress, red shiny heels, nylons, and bright red lipstick; my father spinning her around with a smile wide enough to reveal the charming gap between her front teeth.

I am from her—the most courageous woman I will ever know. A woman who struggled in school, dropped out in high school, and yet, managed to make a life for herself and her family through sheer determination and resilience.

Sometimes, when I look in the mirror, I see her staring back at me, and for that, I am grateful.

I am from Margarita, the woman I’ll always look up to and never forget.

Why It’s Therapeutic

Writing an “I Am From” poem can:

• Help you remember and reconnect with forgotten parts of your story

• Allow you to acknowledge both your strengths and your struggles without judgment

• Encourage you to view yourself as more than just labels or symptoms

• Foster compassion for your past self

Want to Write Your Own?

Try starting each line with “I am from…” and finish the sentence with:

• A food, smell, or object from your childhood
• A family saying or cultural phrase
• A place in your home or neighborhood
• A value, fight, or dream passed down to you

Processing Questions:

• What memories surfaced while writing this?
• Which lines felt heavy? Which felt empowering?
• What parts of your past do you want to carry forward—and what do you want to release?

You Are More Than What Happened to You

True healing often begins not by looking forward, but by compassionately reflecting on the past. The “I Am From” poem is more than a creative exercise; it’s a structured path to self-recognition and reclaiming your personal narrative.

You are a tapestry woven from memories, rhythms, and rituals, shaped by love, and guided by warnings. Within your being, you carry the legacy of generations—inherent strengths, unchosen burdens, and persistent hopes.

If you’d like someone to walk beside you as you explore your past, our therapists would be honored to hold space for it. Healing isn’t always found in fixing the future; sometimes, it’s found in remembering where you came from. Don’t hesitate to reach out if you’re ready to begin this journey.