When I was 8 years old, I moved from the Philippines to Illinois, the only words that came out of my mouth was another language that not many people knew of. I was filled with excitement, but half of it was packed with anxiousness. We stayed at my aunt's house for a few years.                

       A few weeks later I attended the new school I was enrolled in. I was walking thrilled and uneasy to my class, and my homeroom teacher presented me to my new classmates. An unfamiliar sound came out of her mouth, “Here we have K-la-ah, She will be working with us today as our new classmate and--” How could she possibly get K-la-ah out of Ka-i-lahh. At this moment she failed to introduce my name before she could even introduce me. I wanted to correct her but nothing came out, it was as if my lips were stitched together. I thought to myself, I guess school isn’t the only thing I should be getting used to. 

       When we got our first new apartment, I heard the landlord talking to my mom, I barely understood English so I had no clue what they were talking about but I knew that my mom's name wasn’t Hermina, because she pronounced it as Her-miin-ah which should’ve been Her-meen-yah. I wasn’t surprised at this point as my name was pronounced K-la-ah instead of Ka-i-lahh at school. Some of my classmates even called me KyKy as a form of a nickname, I wasn’t really comfortable with the new nickname since the “cool kids,” were the ones that gave me that name, and I just never got along with them considering how fake they were with each other. Spreading rumors and talking behind each other's backs, were the last thing I want to get involved with.

        As I grew up moving from one school to another, my name changed variously but I learned how to correct my teachers and friends, I couldn’t just keep my mouth shut anymore. I finally learned how to speak up, the stitches that were once effective wore off eventually. As Shakespeare once wrote “To be or not to be: that is the question,” and to be Kylah is my answer. 

       High school arrived like the seasons, a fresh start of the month. I made new friends and they teased me by calling me Kylie or Klah, but a new nickname has been created by my friends, Kai. I liked my new nickname it was simple and short, I wasn’t bothered by it like I was 6 years ago, because after all the only reason I would correct my friends and teachers is as if they seriously mispronounced my name but other than that I’ve learned how to accept the nicknames that have been given to me, it didn’t harm anyone, so why should it harm me?