I look in the mirror and I see

mother

father

grandmother

aunt

and

me.

Generations of love and creation and resilience culminating in one

face.

When I was younger I didn’t always like who I recognized when I looked at myself in the mirror.

I didn’t want to be bound to anyone by trait or story.

Now I see these shared features—eyes, nose, lips, cheeks, hair, skin, hands, feet—as monuments to battles fought and won.

The legacy of my ancestors, alive in me.

For instance, my grandmother’s eyes may have held deep despair,

but they’re mine now, and her despair is gone.

In its place, my power to overcome.