The latin translation for Rachel is the sky. I think of Rachel as a dark purple, complete opposite of a light violet purple. Bold and deep, but simple and sweet at the same time. I imagine Rachel as a cotton candy sunset on a cold winter night. Rachel is like an egg. Tough on the outside, but soft on the inside. 

Rachel sounds kind of sugary when you say it, like crunching into a lollipop. Not a sickly name though, but a sort of natural watery slide. Lauren or Ellen for instance. Rachel is the first grade girl with a hot pink lunchbox. She has the sparkly Justice clothes from head to toe. The shimmery, shiny, light up sneakers. As sweet as a cupcake.

Nicole was the name I admired for most of my childhood years. Nikki for short.  I thought it fit me the best instead of Rachel. I also just didn’t like the name Rachel. I thought it was so common and sounded so harsh. Which not to mention, you have to clench your teeth together when you say it. 

As time went on, Rachel grew with me, as I grew up. The name Rachel fits my personality and values perfectly. Like a cozy pair of slippers on a snowy day. I never have to worry about people mispronouncing Rachel or making fun of it. It is also feminine enough, that no one would ever mistake my gender when hearing it.