my laundry list of labels hangs above my head and trails behind my heels. the entries are daunting, extensive, calculated, and forced. i had no choice in the matter and no vote in the deliberation.
i simply was, i merely am. when i was nine, some of my nicknames frightened me. as i grew older, they emboldened me. an abbreviation of who i am or a subtle joke to who i am becoming. a quaint and affectionate disposition murmured from a loved one.
i am learning to embrace it all. i aspire to be honed into a singular, titular syllable. maybe a vowel. a sound that mimics the feelings my personna evokes. i am drenched in headlines and overwhelmed with paraphrasing - yet i encourage those that befall upon me.
what will you call me? will it roll off the tongue and past your teeth playfully? will those around you know the story behind it? the label, the noise, the creed. it won’t define, but it sure will shape. i plan to enjoy it thoroughly and turn my head in affirmation when called upon.