One would think that sharing a name with an incredibly famous Hollywood actress from the 50s and 60s would make me feel oh so lucky, but it actually doesn’t make me feel anything. I am utterly and completely indifferent to the thought of having the same name as Audrey Hepburn. Throughout my early years in school, my teachers would say they were going to call me Audrey Hepburn instead of my actual name and even though it was a little inconvenient, I tried to not put much thought into it. That’s not my name though, I still find myself thinking all the time, but it never really mattered. For many years in my life, I was known as the girl with the same name as Audrey Hepburn. 

I don’t have the most popular name in the entire world, there are usually only two or three other people with the same name as me at school. Typically, I am more often referred to as Aubrey instead of my actual name because more people have heard of that one more than mine, it’s a common mistake, I understand. This isn’t the most detrimental problem that one could have in the world. Tons of people have much bigger problems in their lives than getting compared to someone or getting their name mistaken. I know that I should be grateful for the things I have and the opportunities that I am given in life because not everyone has those chances, but to me, my name is my identity. It is who I am as a person, it is how I am shaped to be. 

Audrey as a name means noble strength, but to me, it means my brother trying to get me to crawl over to him to play with his legos when I was five months old and he was three. It means being best friends in third grade with a girl named Aubrey and all of our teachers not liking it since our papers all got mixed up whenever we turned things in. It means me being who I am. 

My middle name is Joyce, a name that is rarely heard nowadays, a name that means lord. To me, it means sharing the name with my grandmother, my mom’s mom, Kathleen Joyce. It means my mom calling me downstairs when she’s upset with me. Multiple times per week I hear “Joyce! Come down here,” or a text message saying Joyce, get your chores done. Now. It means me being who I am. 

My last name, Hutchinson, is my father’s last name, and his before him. It comes from viking settlers in Ireland and Scotland. It ties me to my family, brings me closer to my brothers, my parents, my grandparents. My name is my family legacy, a story that is continuing to be written. It's a cliché, I know, but it is who I am and who I will always be. Then, now, and whatever comes next.