When I arrived in this world, there had been a lot of controversy over my name whether it would be a more traditional Mexican name, or a ¨white¨ girl name. My Dad is half Mexican, and Filipino he identifies more with his Mexican side just because that is the culture he grew up with. While most of his Filipino side was very Americanized, or is still in the Philippines except for a few family members. My Mom was Irish, and knows nothing about Ireland, and their culture besides St. Patrick's Day. My Mom did not like any of the Spanish names like Isabella. Partially to how popular they were. Also whose last name I would take Cabalquinto or Craig. What my middle name should be. They ended up deciding on a trade-off. I could have my dad's last name, if my mom chose my first name. After months of not knowing, she decided on Aubree Aw-bree. When my grandma on my dad's side first heard it, who was Mexican said she could not understand for the life of her why my mom would name me that, so she decided she would just call me Isabella. My parents said no that was not gonna fly. My Grandma is a pretty easy going person, so it was weird that this is what got her upset. Apparently, she misheard because my name sounded like the Spanish word Abrita  Auh-bri-tah which means open, but she still to this day pronounces my name Auh-bri-tah which I like because it is like an inside joke.

     When I went to grade school, l could choose between a nickname or my name, and I did my full name Aubree. I was too shy to even consider asking to go by a nickname. People thought my name was more complicated than it was or there was a ¨twist¨ to it because of my last name, Cabalquinto Cob-ughl-quine-toe, and sometimes they just gave me a new name. My gym teacher pauses at a name near the top of the list, and I knew it was mine because teachers constantly butchered my last name. Though to my shock, they were confused and butchered my first name as she called me Auh-bray. I was confused but went with it because I was too shy to say something. Another teacher called me Ah-bee. I mean there was an r how could she not see it? The name sounded whiny like something a toddler would say when they did not get what they wanted. I did not correct her though because I mean it was a sub, and I only had her for one period. My computer teacher thought he read my name wrong, so he decided to exchange the letter b with a d he called my Audrey for a full semester, and another student that was in my class still thinks that is my name. I also did not correct it because I thought he would eventually see the letter b, but he never did. It got to the point where it was just too late to correct him, so I went with it.

   I asked my parents if I should correct them, my mom said ¨Breezy, it is just a name, but if it bothers you just correct them. I don’t see the big deal?¨ While my dad would tell me, “Your name is important Bree if you want them to correct or go by a nickname tell them.” Which was good advice, but I was too shy to correct a teacher. I mean most of them said it correctly, so no harm no foul right?

  In highschool, I made new friends, and I got a load of new nicknames. Anyone who I talked to on Snapchat would get very confused when they saw my display name as Bree. I never told anyone to call me that at school, so they could never figure out why that was my name on Snapchat. I ended up having to explain that was the name almost all my family called me. They rarely used my name unless other people were at a teacher conference or something like that if I was in trouble that was usually accompanied by my middle and last name though. So, some of them started calling me that. Others didn’t and just changed my first name to something like Ah-Bree-na or Aubs. Which was all fine I mean I usually got the gist that they were talking to me.

   Until I got the name Aubree Petite, and no it was not the name that bothered me even though a little weird to me it had the same effect as the name Fat Amy from Pitch Perfect. It was how I got this name along with it that bothered me, and the inside joke, so I told them to stop calling me that. Most people listened to me and understood except for one of my guy best friends who would NOT STOP CALLING ME THAT. Like it was not so hard he could have called me ANY OTHER name from an existing nickname or he could have made a new one. So one day when he called me that, something in me snapped whether it was from me being hangry, tired, or stressed because of school. I have no idea, but I think I had steam coming out of my ears probably accompanied by a red face as I went into a full angry monologue on why I do not like that name, and why he had to stop calling me that. It probably lasted for a good 5 minutes. Was that my best moment? Probably not. Would I do it again? Probably. He did stop calling me that, and told me he did not think it was a big deal because I did not say anything.