Now Reading: The Name That Wasn’t Mine
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The Name That Wasn’t Mine
The Name That Wasn’t Mine
One particular memory stood out vividly from my past, a time when I had fallen terribly ill with mono. It was an ordeal that tested my resilience to the core. I embarked on a journey that felt akin to searching for a needle in a haystack. It was an arduous pursuit, but deep within, I harbored an unwavering belief that I could conquer this challenge.
Once upon a time in a small suburban town, I carried a name that never quite sat right with me – Tracey. It wasn't a name I had chosen, and for as long as I could remember, it had grated on my soul, I knew my own name and it was not Tracey.
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