The name Megan means pearl. It means the child of light. It’s the slight spark of hope after the bad day. It’s the tiny dot of light you see on the end of the dark lonely path you're on. 

Pearls emit a complex pattern of brightness, each with a completely different color combination. Each and every pearl is different, whether it’s size, mass, or color. A pearl is the most unique gemstone because it comes from the depth of the sea, not the Earth’s crust. Wealthy women in medieval Europe enjoyed pearls as a portrayal of authority which symbolized you were a person of great wealth and importance to society. 

Sometimes I believe I am the opposite of my name, that I am not the child of light, nor the beautiful pearl everyone wants me to be. I don’t feel unique, I don’t feel different than anyone else. I feel as if I am just another ordinary person in this lonely world. 

Throughout my life, my bad days have by far weighed out the good days. I have lost myself and been broken far too many times. I have wanted to give up, I have been defeated. So why is my name the spark of light  that I don’t have? Why is my name so special when I feel like I have no purpose?  

Sometimes the light at the end of my path seems to approach quicker than life’s expectancy for me. However, maybe there’s a reason I’m still here. Maybe the spark of hope is actually everything I’ve ever dreamed of and it’s just taking god longer to give me my happiness.

I truly hope one of these days I’ll go home and say that my day was good. I’m tired of lying to my mom, telling her I had a fine day but then going to cry the second I reach my forsaken bedside.  

So this is me, this is who I truly am. Yet no one will ever see the depth behind my name, unlike the pearl being seen in the beautiful waters.  To everyone else, my name is simply Megan. Just Megan.