My name. It’s like a sunset, unique to that day, but there is always another one tomorrow. Nothing special. It means wise. Sometimes I feel like I’m pretty wise... 

There was no hesitation when my name was chosen. My dad had always known that he was gonna have a boy named Connor, way before I was even on the way. But what he didn’t know is that I would be Connor, loving and caring. Connor, fun and goofy. Connor, lots of non-stop energy and always happy. 

Here I am now. Connor—as promised. 

My mom met my dad in California. He was stationed there for the Marines. He brought her back to Wisconsin, his home. She left everything behind. From the hot weather of California, to the cold winters of Wisconsin. A change that can be met with fire and ice.

My dad told my mom what he wanted my name to be. After some consideration she was satisfied. She got to pick my middle name. Makya. It means eagle hunter. A fierce warrior behind a kind face. Not backing down from a challenge. A protector of the people I love. 

At school, my name is a bit of a hassle. From it always being misspelled, to getting mixed up with others that have a different version of my name. I always have to add my last initial to named activities. 

Although—I would never change it. It fits me. I am the fierce warrior. I am the name thought of before my existence. I am Connor.