Your name is the first gift you ever receive.

It’s not something you can touch or feel

It is merely something you hear.

You hear it everyday, whether it’s your mom screaming at you to clean the dishes,

or your friend, asking for your advice.

 

my name is Kynzie Leann Stogsdill

Kynzie is my label.

It is the sloppy name written at the top of all my papers.

Leann is the name passed down from my mother’s side of the family

and Stogsdill… the name that I hate…

The name given to me by my biological father

who I resent.

 

Hate is a word that could knock down a brick wall,

and build one up all at the same time.

As a little girl at 5 years old

I grew up watching fairy tales

and believed that life was supposed to be all “rainbows and butterflies”

Life was supposed to be “normal.”

People were supposed to have a mom who left I-love-you-notes in your lunch box

And a dad who would burst through the door from a long day at work and wrap you up

in a big bear hug.

Or at least… that’s what I learned on TV.

 

Reality soon smacked me right upside the head

and told me that I was mistaken.

 

Nobody is perfect,

but there is a distinct line between

imperfection and plain stupidity

there is a very unmistakable line between

a father with problems and a burnout.

 

My dad was and still is a drug addict.

He is no father…

He does not care about me.

He doesn’t drop his things at the door to give me a hug.

No matter how hard I try,

I will never be able to match the

perfection

of those drugs that he can’t seem to escape

He does not deserved to be called dad

He does not deserve me.

He does not deserve my imperfection.

 

But…

if it wasn’t for him being the way he was,

the way he is,

I would not have the family or the friends that I have now.

I would not have my step-dad,

no not step dad…

a real dad who makes me laugh, when I cry.

Who listens to all my silly high school problems.

I would not have my real mom,

I would not have my two brothers

or my one sister if it wasn’t for him being the way he is.

He is the reason I realize the true meaning of my name…

 

Kynzie… the name you can say if you need my attention.

Leann… the name passed down through my mother’s family

and Stogsdill…

the name that I love.

The name I will have for the rest of my life.

It will be my compass when I travel,

but point me home.

When I have a paper cut,

It will show me I’ve had worse.

It will show me that there is always a light

at the end of the tunnel.

Stogsdill…

my name that means imperfection.