The Name I Was Called

There was a name they called me,

A name that carried more than sound,

It followed me through silent rooms,

And echoed when no one was around.

They gave it to me in a moment

When they knew not who I'd be,

They measured me by yesterday

And failed to see the future in me.

But names can be like passing shadows,

They do not own the light within.

A careless word can bruise the heart,

Yet it cannot decide who wins.

I have walked beyond that calling,

Past the voices that made me small.

Every step became a quiet answer,

Every rise became a challenge to all.

The name I was called is not my story,

Nor the limit of my dream.

I am more than another person's judgment,

More than what I once might seem.

Let them remember what they called me;

I will remember who I became.

For life is not defined by labels,

But by the courage behind one's name.

And someday, when they speak of me,

Let it not be the past they recall.

Let them speak of the person who rose,

Who stood with courage after the fall.

The name I was called may remain behind,

A distant echo fading away.

But the name I give myself today

Is the one I will carry every day.