Hannah. It's a palindrome. It is spelled the same forward or backward. Any way you pronounce it, you get the same thing: Hannah. 

When you look at me, do you also get the same thing? Someone you can just look at and see? Or is there something beneath what you see on the surface? 

Hannah means grace. This is what people might see me as on the surface. Someone who’s kind and generous. I don’t think that one word, grace, can define my name. Define me. 

There is more to me than what you see at first glance. 

A name is a collection of thoughts, feelings, and ideas. It tells a story. My name tells my story. 

Hannah is compassionate. She checks in on her friends when they have a bad day. But Hannah is also stubborn and determined. She hates losing arguments and admitting when she was wrong. 

Hannah Banana. Ever since I was a kid, I hated bananas. I couldn’t stand the sight or smell of them. I didn’t even want to be in the same room as someone eating one. They couldn’t be mixed into smoothies or touch other food on my plate. It makes me wish there was another nickname that would feel more like me. 

When a teacher calls on Hannah in class, 3 heads will turn. My coach yells out “Hannah” at practice, and I never know if he’s talking to me or the other Hannah on the team. That’s the problem with an ordinary name. I never know who wants to talk to me. I feel like I am less unique, less me.

Hannah is like a vanilla iced chai latte from Dunkin, with cinnamon swirled in. A taste that is sweet, with the perfect combination of flavors. Hannah tastes like a freshly cooked waffle you make at a hotel breakfast. She is the long-lasting feeling after taking that bite of a warm chocolate chip cookie. But Hannah has more to her than the sweetness on the surface. 

Hannah is familiar. Like that feeling of sleeping in your own bed after a long vacation. Like when your favorite song is played on the radio. Like a cool shower after a hot day at the beach. Hannah is the comfort you get after a long hug on a stressful day. The familiarity and comfort, that’s what is under the surface. 

That’s what you can’t just look at Hannah and see. 

Hannah has become a part of who I am. The good, the bad, and the complicated. All of it is wrapped up into just one palindrome with 6 letters and 2 syllables. 

Hannah tells the story of me.