Tatum. The name that I’ve always been, yet I’ve never had. If someone forgets my real name, then they always revert back to Tatum. 

Teagan. The name that I’ve always had, yet I didn’t really like. Not because it was ugly, not because people made fun of me for it, but because it was different. I didn’t have a normal name like Ava, Ellie, or Maddy. 

It gave me another reason to stand out, which as a girl in middle school, I did not want to do. Struggling with confidence in school, my name just felt like another wound that someone could rip open at any time. It felt weak, painful, sore. 

So, being the self-conscious person I was, I wanted Tatum to be my name. Everybody messed it up anyway. I would want people to mess up my name and call me Tatum. In no way was my name totally rare or weird, I just wasn’t confident enough to accept it wasn’t ordinary. 

Teagan. The name that I have grown to love. Going into high school a little bit more secure within myself, I started to like my name—bit by bit. 

The nicknames are my favorite part: Teags, Teagos, T. It’s just a little part of me that isn’t ordinary, that makes me stand out. My nicknames come from love, whether from my family, my best friends, or my teammates. 

I like to stand out now, I like to be different, I like people to know my name. I have accomplished many things in my life, and they all have my name written on them: being accepted to colleges, a varsity roster, a captaincy. I’m proud of my name, and I want people to get it right. 

I don’t want to be Tatum anymore, and I’m not. 

I am Teagan, Teags, T; I am proud of who I am and who I am becoming, and I want people to know who that is.