My name is the sound of furious typing on the keyboard to get a thought out, and the pitter-patter of rain on the rooftop. It is the color of lavender and the sweet smell of slumber. It is the beautiful wave of emotions you feel when the leaves turn colors and your only desire is to admire the view of beautiful families going out on adventures from underneath a cozy blanket with hot chocolate. It is the time of year when the neighborhood kids get out and pick a pumpkin to carve for the coming months. It is a combination of everything I love. My name is something I define.
My mom heard a song on the radio, looked up who it was by, then named me that artist. I think that says a lot about my mom, which says a lot about me. My name is surprising and impulsive but that’s not just because of how I came to have my name. It is those things because I want it to mean those things. I am hasty and unpredictable.
By definition, my name means “complete ruler,” which is quite a laugh considering how much that contradicts with my own personality. As a young child, I was always so different from all of the other girls because I was quiet and shy and I didn’t really talk to anybody. I was scared of answering questions in classes because I was afraid I’d be wrong and everybody would laugh at me, even though nobody in my class would have really done that. Either way though, all of the other girls seemed to be so happy and confident, and always raised their hands in class, sure of themselves. Me, I’d be in the corner with my nose in a book, even if I knew the answer to a question. I was always the opposite of dominant or leading.
Even as a child, I admired the uniqueness of my name. On the first day of school, there’d always be a teacher who somehow mispronounced it but that really didn’t bother me as much as it bothered other kids when their name was mispronounced. I took pride in the fact that my name was weird and uncommon. I always used to get weird questions about why there was an ‘h’ at the end and I always responded with “Just because there is.” I thought it was silly that people asked me why my name was spelled the way it was. How would I know? I didn't give myself my name, I chose how to define my name only.
If my name was a time of day, it would be somewhere between when the sky turns from pink to black. People admire the beauty of a sunset, when the sky ranges anywhere from a deep purple to a hazy pink but go inside when it turns dark. I’m somewhere in there towards the end, going unnoticed and buried under the shift of mysterious colors. I’ve always enjoyed that though, being hidden and overlooked most of the time. Sometimes I like attention but for most of my young teenage years, I pretended to like attention to be cool. I love being unnoticed. It’s peaceful and serene to not be somebody that everyone knows, someone who slips through the hall unseen.
A big part of how I define my name comes from when I was born. My birthday is on Halloween, which I suppose makes me odd. It gives me a warm fuzzy feeling to think about the time of year when everything feels lovely and warm with random bursts of cold, refreshing weather every now and then. I love when I was born. I love remembering that I was born in the season of change, with schoolchildren beginning a new year, and many starting new jobs. My name is the weather in the season of change.
All in all, I would never change my name. It is distinctive and individualistic. It gives me a chance to be something I am not always. It makes me feel empowered and confident. It makes up for flaws in my personality.
My name is thoughtfulness, like the furious typing on the keyboard, and a sweater for the times when you simply want to sit inside with hot chocolate, watching the falling leaves and the wind blow around the young children in their mustard colored sweatshirts and knee high socks. All in all, just like the autumn leaves that turn color for their own lovely reason and the rain that demands itself heard by the rhythmic noise it makes, my name presents itself.