Little Squid.

Australia! Not even close, buddy. My name takes the masculine spelling. There are six letters and two syllables. My name never had any underlying meaning to it. It is exactly what it is, just a name. My mother seemed to have an affinity to the sound an ‘S’ makes, like the hiss of boiling water when spilled.

          When my dad first held me, he said, “You’re going to be so bad.” He knew from the beginning I would be an instigator. In a way, it is more fitting to me that I was given the male spelling of my name because I grew up to be a tomboy. I was always roughhousing with my brothers and sisters, and being rambunctious to the point that nearly everyday I would be sent to my room for misbehaving. I was a raging tornado twisting through the house. My mother always told me my name had to sound perfectly when she screamed it, which is why my name is Sidney Carol and not Sidney Nancy. Nancy didn’t have the right vowels that could be drawn out loudly enough.

Sometimes I can be quite the extrovert, and my name is enough of a conversation starter to be a foothold. The same thing is said whenever introducing myself “like the city, but with an ‘I’ not a ‘Y’”, but the conversation always steers to where it will.

I never did consider my name very special. I still don’t, but I’m content it fits me, even if everyone spells it wrong.