My name is common. Not just common but the second of all girls. It means olive tree. They raise thousands of olives. Just like my name, thousands of parents raise my name. My name is the like the each individual olive flourishing on the tree.

No one that I am related to has my name. It doesn’t have a symbolic backstory to show its significance. So it is a aimless name wondering out in the open. But I would never change it. It is what keeps me grounded from the uncertainty of the unknown. My name is who I am. It allows me to always reappear when I begin to stray.  

My name relates to me. My name is a solid thing to display my personality. Like a window looking straight to my life. A caring, loving, peaceful girl. The happiness with saying my name portrays me. It shows my true colors.

My name is bright colors. Like a bright pink. A color a little girl would love. When I think of my name I see big flowy bubble letters with flowers surrounding it. Almost as if a young girl was put into a name. In my fourth grade art class, the teacher told us to draw anything we wanted. Of course, I could not decide what I wanted to draw. So I decided to draw my name. What did it look like? Big flowy bubble letters with the brightest pinks I could find.

I could maybe be a Meredith. That's the second name my parents wanted. And it still has the same ring and thought as my current. I could not be a Madeline, Audrey, or Lori.  Those are already taken by loved ones. And I just couldn’t see myself as those. These names don’t have the same tone as mine. Say them out loud and they seem gloomy and serious. So for now, I am going to keep my vibrant name, Olivia.