My Prehistoric Name

I am named after my great-great-great-grandfather, my great-great-grandfather, my great-grandfather, my grandfather, and my dad. I am the sixth generation with my name in our family. In English my name means “wide meadow”.

Yet I don’t like my name very much. People always spell it wrong. In second grade my teacher spelt my name wrong on my name tag- that misspelling lasted for the year. When people first see or hear my name, without seeing me yet, they often think I am a girl. Then when they find out that I’m a boy they tease me about it. It makes me feel isolated from everyone else and lonely like a caged bird in the middle of nowhere. I hate being so secluded from everything. it feels like this happens because of my name. And because of that, I am always in the middle of everything, never first or last. At my old school I was that kid never noticed, just there. I want my name to be something like Ryan or John. I want to blend in and be normal and not isolated and secluded from everything. But right now I am just a small fish in the middle of the big blue ocean. I am Sidney.