Pay Attention to this name, someday it’ll mean something spectacular

My name is Angelica Leticia I’m the oldest child and granddaughter of my family. My sister is five and a half years my junior and one of the few people I fear of disappointing.

I have an obsession with reading books and try to write my own. I had a fear of the dark as a child and still have a phobia of needles and spiders. I am an open and realized homosexual, for all of that I am a closeted Roman Catholic. My family is Large, Mexican, and Loud, those words are synonymous for each other in my opinion and I love them all dearly. I’m surrounded by people that love and care for me. They call me beautiful, kind, and good hearted, it’s hard not to laugh when they say such things. I’m okay with admitting I’m average looking. If I’m beautiful, which I doubt, it’s because of my mother.

She’s the gorgeous one I just got half of her genes. But it’s alright because I got my humor from dad as well as his people skills; the stubbornness is from both of them.

Because of this refusal to pay attention to this “beauty” I possess I’ve been told multiple times by many different people that I posses an inferiority complex. I continue to deny these claims because they obviously aren’t true, I’m just not stupid. I’d rather be smart and witty anyway. My friends to offset this “ridiculous notion” have given me a new nickname the “moe one”. Because I’m oblivious sometimes I had no idea what the term meant. Once I told them I had no idea what on earth they were talking about they said it meant cute. Not satisfied with this answer I went to the internet, “When in doubt Google it” this theory it has yet to fail me. And I was not disappointed; it’s a nerd term from Japanese anime.

“Moe, when it was first coined, meant any character, boy or girl, which elicited feelings of protectiveness or sympathy with the viewer.” I believe that, given my history with self-defense classes and extensive knowledge in all things physically dangerous, I should be the last person to inspire a protective instinct in those around me. Further more considering that I have an unfortunate habit of reacting violently or “spazzing” as may fondly put it, when surprised those with their best interest in mind should learn to avoid putting themselves in such situations. I feel that I do not need or want a body guard seeing as how I am perfectly capable of handling myself in a situation and feel confident in my abilities of protecting myself from physical harm. Sympathy is a very trying term and often has morose effects when I attempt or another body attempts to dispense such feelings unto me. Perhaps the best reaction to my pain, physical or otherwise, would be to politely look away whilst I compose myself and then allow me to angrily rant out my anger.

“As time passed, the usage of “moe” began expanding…and usually signals to most viewers that the characters in a show are going to be cardboard cut outs with no personality depths.” This makes the term rather offensive, I am hardly a cardboard cutout or a character that can be interchanged at will. Hardly a compliment when used properly the term “moe” seems to say that I am a non-descript or a face in the crowd, the way a man views designer shoes. I would like to believe that I am remarkable in some small way or at least possess avant-garde qualities. The word “cute” is also at a very low vocabulary level. Used to define small or enduring items; when defining the word “moe” it means: small, adorable, and perky. A chihuahua is perky; a chihuahua is also an annoying rat of a dog.

I’m sure this rant will end up being called “moe” as well as my passionate refusals of being referred to as such. However I have depth and personality, there is no way on earth there is another person like me to have ever existed. Not with my exact genetic pattern, personality, ethnic background and childhood. There are hundreds of Angelica’s in the world; I’ve even personally meet five so far. Even when I googled my full name there were 82 results and not one of them was me.

The name doesn’t make me rather I make the name, who I am, what I’ve done, and what I will do. The word Angelica comes from the Latin root angelic, it doesn’t mention that neither of my parents went to college or that I will be the first person in my family to get a degree. Leticia is also Latin it means “joyful”, it doesn’t define the kid that loves her running shoes and can barely walk in heels. My name is a name my mother chose before I was born that over these past few years I’ve been getting comfortable with and filling with my personality. Three words, ten syllables, twenty letters make up my name; to label a small 5’2 ?” girl with mouse brown hair, her mom’s hazel eyes and a crooked smile that belongs just to her.

I want to be a writer, I want to fall in love, I want to walk into a bookstore on day and see my novels on the best seller display, most of all I crave two little girls and a boy of my own to call me “Mom”.

I need to do something big and grand with my life, but my definition of big is different then what most people see. I don’t need or want to be famous. I want to make a statement, not be the statement. Don’t judge me based on how I look; I can’t help whether or not I was born pretty.

Judge me by the content of my character, and by what I say. Make a decision on how you view me after talking to me and hearing my views. Don’t look at my picture and think you’ve got me pegged.

So here’s a little piece of me that’s a couple hairs over 1,000 words, my teacher said this statement needs to be personal. Personal enough that I would be a little nervous if just anyone were to read it. Well I’m nervous, I’m sure there have to be at least ten grammatical mistakes.

(Was that personal enough for you?)