What's in a name?

I love my name. Because it still feels new. Like something you save for special ocasions. With the exception of family situations, throughout my life I got used to being called other names than my own. It's the curse of having a popular name; eventually the use of nicknames becomes unavoidable. So I was many things. Hideous names. Then, as I dug my way out of adolescence, people started calling me by my last name. Which isn't so bad. It even felt kinda nice. And that's the way it's been. Manata. Like an heirloom. Both my father and grandfather were called that way by their friends. So it didn't take long for me to happily get used to it.

Thus, my name is like fancy china. Like bonbons you can only find in Winter. My heart goes wobbly and jello-ish everytime I hear it. It feels like a sweet and endearing pet name. With a whispery quality to it. Joana...