My name

My Name

Leah Pettit

Period 2

02/02/04

I am a mutt. No matter how much I try to be an individual, I will always be a mutt. I am not original, I am just a combination of everyone I’ve met. You see, I don’t really have a set personality. I sort of just snatch the personalities of different people at different times. I can be a nerd, a flirt, a athlete, a Mormon, a dumb blonde – you name it, I can be it. See that’s what happens when you’re the youngest of five children. Nothing really belongs to you- not even your personality. I am my sister Jen’s blondeness, my sister Debby’s musicality, my Brother’s swimming ability, and my sister Rebecca’s stubborness all rolled into one “travel size” package. When you’ve met me, you’ve basically met my entire family. That brings me to my main point; my name.

My name classifies who I am – both in it’s precedent and it’s meaning. My mom wanted four children. I’m number 5. Maybe that’s why she named me Leah, the name of the lesser, unwanted sister in the bible. She claims that’s not true, and I want to believe her, but just hearing and responding to that name my entire life has made me believe that I really am just an accident. I have no talent that an older sibling hasn’t already mastered, and I’ve never done anything that would set me apart from my siblings. I don’t know whether that’s because my name is Leah, or my name is Leah because of that – I haven’t quite figured that out yet.

Now according to name books my name means contentment, and if that doesn’t fit me, I don’t know what does. Even in knowing that I am an accident I am content – some accidents turn out for the better. I couldn’t be happier with my situation in life, being the spoiled youngest child and all, and I couldn’t ask for anything more than I have right here, right now.

So the moral of the story? I guess it’s that no matter how you identify yourself, how others identify you, or who you are, life is grand. It’s scary and hard, true, but the experiences I have had have taught me that life is what you make of it; and I choose to be unwanted, unoriginal, and yet be completely content.