Brooke. The name that is popular in the Christian religion.

My name is the number 11. The light purple color that fills the sky at dusk. My name is the fresh sweet cookies that my mom bakes on a Sunday afternoon.

Being born soon after my sister diverted my parents attention and left them frantically searching for my name. My dad picked my first and middle name since his birthday fell on the same day as mine. 

The abrupt decision for my name rooted from many famous people that hold the name Brooke. To Brooke Burke and Brooke Shields they both hold a meaning in the social world. One known as being a co-host on Dancing with the Stars and the other being a model and actress. 

My name wasn't like my sister’s name, Isabella. It wasn't from Italian or Spanish origin. She stole the meaning of her name, beautiful, which I think should be the meaning of my name. I will always be known as the one syllable name, Brooke. 

I wasn’t named after my grandparents or family members. But sometimes I wish I was. The ending -lyn wasn't added to my name just because it made my parents think of one of the five boroughs of New York City. By adding the ending it would just add an unnecessary amount of words. 

At school they say my name like its nothing. It is like a call used to catch my attention. It is like the color of a dull sky or the can of veggies hidden in the back of your pantry. Some may call me cookie or cooks, depending on the forcast in the weather. 

Different? I always have that question consume my thoughts, as someone calls out my name. Would I want to be called a Teagen or Taylor? Or maybe even a Reagan? If I were to change my name people would still perceive me as the same. Brooke. It holds my identity.

My name being different and unique is something that I want to be known as. Brooke. The sweetness that fills the room on a musky day or the soft approach you get when you first meet me. It’s a strong name.