I asked my parents why they named me Avery, of all the possible options, and they said they just liked it. I mean, so do I. But is that enough?

Over 5,000 girls were named Avery in the U.S. alone in the year I was born (“Popular Names”). It was the twelfth most common girl name in the US in 2013 (“Popularity”). I have met countless people named Avery, boys and girls. If my name is common, am I?

Throughout my life, I’ve struggled with the meaning of my name and how it fits me. To my family, I was blanquita, the white girl, and my name was emblematic of that. Avery, about as white a name as you can get when you have Dolores and Esmeraldas in the family. Then at school, Averys were a dime a dozen from Avery Smith to Avery Jones, whose names were even more white than mine, if that’s possible. Between having a common and a non-Latin name, I felt basic and out of place, like a Buckeye in Michigan. Moreover, I struggled with what my name meant for a long time. I started to question my name’s meaning and if it fit me.

Through a lot of self-reflection, time, and food, I found myself thinking about what I wanted my name to say about my identity. After all, I’m in college now, away from home in California, and I can be whoever I want. My name does mean something simply because it’s my own. My name carries my struggles, triumphs, and experiences. It embodies my history and how I’m white and Latin. I’ve decided that my name can stand for whatever I want. My name means smelling mofongo and feeling the winds of history behind me. My name means surfing with my best friend and the setting sun. It means all the little things, from being the girl who studies on Friday nights to the girl who’s blanca y Latina. Even now, about 2,280 miles from home, I can hear my mother shouting my name from downstairs, Avery. That’s me! It’s my name, my present, my future, and my past.