My name is an antique. European. It originates from France. It is the smell of fresh-baked bread from the old shop on the corner.  It is a noble name. The original is Heim-rie. Heim means ruler, and rie means house. Control of the house. Leading-having control of my future. Doing it my way. 

The name feels rough on the tongue but is smooth coming out. The Hen comes from the depths of your throat followed by the smooth —nry. It is one of those names you can just yell. 

My name is the sound of laugh tracks while watching old sitcoms during breakfast. Sometimes, to others, my name is just a reminder of the past. Elderly people like the name. It is “Old Fashioned.” An old soul. I was named after my great-grandpa. I am told he was a great man– very wise and funny.I question what it would be like to not be named after anyone. It would be meaningful to not be named after anyone. Knowing that your name is perfectly tailored for you. A Name is special.  Being named after someone gives a sense of security. Having someone to look up to. But sometimes it hurts. Not living up to the original. 

 It would be an experience to be around him, share laughs with him. Just to see how the looks have passed down in the family line, and how they changed. The subtle similarities—my eyes. Bluer than the ocean on a sunny day. 

I am an old soul. In connection with elders. In music, working ethics, and actions. mature. understanding. it is just how I was raised. Noble? I would like to think so. Elegant. Smart and stylish. I am well thought of by most.

No nicknames though, no shortening—It’s great. It is MY name and that’s what people call me. Thanks to my great-great-grandpa. Not a short name. My whole name. I am the only one in the school with the name. Uncommon, but not quite common either. It is empowering. original. my own. It gives me power- to be my own person.