My name is long, like the number 13. A bright pink color. ‘strong’ in french. An ambitious kind of strong, but also calm. An intricate flower garden where roots dig into the soil. Eager to grow and let bright colors emerge. 

It is the sound of waves crashing during sunrise at the beach with my family. It sings the song of birds chirping in the early morning. The sweet smell of apple pie.

My friends shorten it to “Carol”. Carol sounds like an aunt. I care for the people around me much like an aunt, but it's old sounding. Caroline is young and fresh like the bright pink color, not old and gray. This is why I’m Caroline. Always young, fresh, and full of energy. 

Caroline was the name of my great-grandma. Grandma was a German woman who had ambitions. Germans are rough around the edges. The women are strong. A bull charging anything in its path. No one could stop her. She took on the name's literal meaning. She threw bales of hay and butchered chickens. The matriarch of the family, always taking charge of the house or of the farm. 

My parents wanted me to take on her namesake. To be strong and ambitious. Well—they got their wish. 

Its three syllables take on their own meanings. Car-o-line. Car takes on the literal meaning, I am a caring person who takes care of others before myself. O stands all on its own which is where my name is independent. Line is the straight path that I take. Ambition. Charging down obstacles and continuing on my way. 

I hope to carry on the name. Caroline is caring, but doesn’t let others walk all over her. Independent, but not rough and mean.  Strong minded like the German version, but still the calm of the beautiful sunset. I take charge of my own actions. The name still keeps its shape, but I've set it into a different font.