Hannah. 6 characters. 3 letters. And about half the female population sports the name. When I was younger I despised the name. It wasn’t unique. It wasn’t special, and whenever someone called out, “Hannah!” in public it was never me. Ever. In fact, I don’t even bother to turn around anymore. When I was younger people told me all the time that my name is spelled the same backwards as it is forwards, and that’s what makes it special.
Technically, this is true. My name, the name that millions of other girls wear, simply reflects itself and nothing else.
But this sparked an idea.
People, whether they have a name that physically reflects itself or not, reflect everything. Everyone is merely a product of where they’re planted. Everyone reflects off each other and together we grow. We are not the single, worn out name that traps us within its’ pot. We are the rain that cleanses. We are the light that inspires. But most importantly, we are made of our own horrible dirt that keeps us rooted. Together, our rain, our light, and our dirt, make us bloom.
We are so much more than a name. We are what we reflect.
So this is just another Average Teenage Dirtbag, reflecting on the good, the bad, and the straight-up dirt of this complicated thing called life.
…and perhaps busting a few people out of their pots along the way.