"Blessed"
 

       My ancestors were Scottish and Native American, so my name comes from Scotland.  In Scottish, Bryan means “blessed”.  My name is short, simple to say and usually easy to remember, like the rhymes in your favorite songs.  My name means relaxation, unlike long, tedious names such as Christopher or Benjamin.  I don’t recall being named after any of my ancestors, which makes my name more individual. I would not have liked to have a name similar or identical to others. 
       In Celtic, my name means “strong one”. My name is unique, while it’s homonym, Brian, is more common.  My name’s homonym also means “strong one” in Celtic.  There is no story behind my name, nor is there any account of how I was named.  No explanation, not even a family legend.  My name was given to me at birth, and that is the name I will keep forever, like a treasured gift from a deceased relative.
       My name does not sound rough or coarse in your mouth, like sandpaper against your tongue.  People say my name the way it is supposed to be said, like a soldier addressing his sergeant.  This is the way I like my name said.  My name is royalty.  It means leisure, like relaxing on a boat being rocked gently by clear, blue Caribbean waves, with a cool breeze to add to the pleasure of their contentment.
       My name is swift, like the wind on the slopes of snow-covered mountains in Wyoming.  My name is said the same way a young man speaks to a venerable and revered monk.  It is a pleasant word, though never overused.  This is because of the many nicknames that remain alongside my name, always used at the right time.
      Whether my name is interpreted through Celtic, Scottish, or just English, my name always sounds similar or the same.  It can be confused with other names if you add or drop a letter at the beginning or end of my name.  My name is a strong oak tree, planting its roots in my soul and ever growing with me, higher, stronger, and wiser.  For over fourteen years, my name has been a large part of my life, like my friends.  My name can either be good to me or not: Bryan is the right name for me, yet when someone addresses me, I often confuse my name with Ryan, which is annoying and somewhat embarrassing at times.
      My name is the hushed silence after a snowfall.  It is the kind of name you can say under your breath or in a whisper and the name will sound the same as if you spoke out loud.  I am content with my name and would never choose to change it.  I prefer to be more individual; a snowflake, with my own texture, different from the rest.
      It is the name that is my identity, my past, present, and future. Bryan.