Truly Brittany?

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Brittany. It’s a mediocre name with a limited, brief meaning. Most baby books list its meaning as “from Brittany [France] or Great Britain.” But it isn’t true. I’m not from France, or any other European country for that matter. I was born in Chicago, in the good ‘ol U.S. of A.

So maybe my name shouldn’t be Brittany, but something like “Creative” or “Thoughtful”: because of my personality. Then again, I define myself and others by their accomplishments. So perhaps something like “The person who successfully owned two cats, three dogs, two horses, six guinea pigs, four gerbils, thirteen mice, two hamsters, and fish (despite her mother’s protests)” or “the student who got a thirty on her ACT the first time taking it.”

But then I think of that famous quote, “A picture’s worth a thousand words.” So surely a word can be worth a thousand words. I know that when my mom yells, “Brittany, wake up!” in the morning, she isn’t thinking of a girl from France, but me, her animal-loving, kind, motivated, and sometimes annoying daughter. Maybe “Brittany” means more than what a baby book says it means. So, yes, I’m not European. But I AM Brittany.





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