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Written By: Annabella Twomey
February 3, 2015
My full first name, Annabella, has experienced plenty of emotion from me, whether it's hate, love, affection, or contempt.
Growing up as a young child, I struggled to accept my name. Nobody else seemed to share it; no celebrities I could relate to, no classmates I could share an inside joke with because we both shared that primary trait. I was always being mistaken for Annabel. And if I was in a toy store no name keychains or name cups had MY name emblazoned on the front, something that could seem like a disaster for a 6-year old. I felt out of touch and out of place when it came to names, like a gazelle amongst a pack of cheetahs.
I may have been more willing to accept my name if there was a creative and entertaining story behind why my name was assigned to me. I came up with the idea that my father liked the name "Anna," my mother liked "Bella" and not being able to decide between the two, settled on combining them both. When I approached my mother with this idea, she regretfully denied it was the truth, saying both her and my father simply liked the full name "Annabella." I refused to believe that that was all there was to it, but it was the truth and it left me more discouraged as a result.
But as I grow up and begin to fully explore the world around me, I am content with a name that it seems is unique to few others. It defines who I am because I do not want to be one to blend in with the crowd, rather stand out, as my name suggests. Plus names don't define people, but people define their names, and I'd like to think I would define "Annabella" as someone not be ignored.