Hello, my name is ... Morning Glory

I have an aunt that calls me Morning Glory. The story behind this name is that when I was a little girl I once told her I wanted my name to be Bonnie Flower. Now you might be imagining that I was a delicate cute little girl with ribbons in my hair, wearing frilly dresses, with lace ankle socks. You would be wrong.



I was a little girl with a perpetually runny nose, and scabs on my hands, knees, and any other visible surface. I was loud and I snorted when I laughed. (Lovely I know) My hair was a mess and probably sticking to my face, and I knew how to fight. I spent most of my childhood at my "mean nana" Esther's house where my playments were my older uncles. This mean I got personal fitness training, and fighting lessons. They never played Barbies with me.



I'm guessing I wanted to be named Bonnie Flower because some part of me just wanted to be a pretty little girl. I knew girls were supposed to be made of sugar and spice and everything nice, and to be cute and sweet and shy. Basically everything I wasn't. I was made of mostly dirt, blood and stubborness. You had to be to survive that house. The only thing I was every shy about was showing my tears. Weakness was just unacceptable.



So in a perfect world I would be named Bonnie Flower, or even Morning Glory. But I never did become sugar and spice and everything nice. I am still made of mostly of dirt, blood, and stubborness.