My first name is Mia. Simple. Delicate. Unrevealing. It’s like warm rain and the color yellow. It is sunshine. It is the lullabies I used to hear about how I lit up the sky with my little breath. It is my mother holding me like I was the most beautiful thing in the world, telling me, “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine”.

My middle name was given to me by my mother. It was a little part of her. Her maiden name. It comes from my grandfather, born in India and raised in Zanzibar, Tanzania. 

My grandfather. A traveler. An intellectual. A true man. The strongest man I’ve ever met. He has grown from the most humbling of experiences. Stood up straight after the nastiest of all storms struck. My grandfather inspires me to learn, to stand tall, and to fight every single day.

He’s a part of who I am today. He is a part of my name. He gives the delicate parts of ‘Mia’ all of its strength. He inspires ‘Mia’—so accustomed to the sweet warm rain—to endure through the cold harsh storms. This name, inspiring me to be all the best parts of my Grandfather. 

My last name is a name from my father. He is a mutt of European, which makes me a mutt of European. It stands for hardwork and perseverance. A dreamer. My father’s calloused hands. The same hands patting me on the back; encouraging me to move forward. Guiding me towards growth and supporting me along the way. It protects me from those storms my Grandfather can see coming. Protects the little sunshine my mother used to sing to, ‘Mia’.  

Mia Q-- M--. Three worlds that make up all the pieces of me. Simple, yet complex. I am the sunshine and the storm. I am the intellectual and the grit. I have my father’s cassoled hands and my grandfather’s love of learning. My mother’s gift of sunshine and her sweet little lullaby. I wouldn’t change this for the world. I love who my name inspires me to be.