Autobiograpy :D

My name is Maria Guadalupe T. Ariola. As you can see, my name holds a religious significance to it. That’s because my mother, at the tender age of thirteen, joined the Legion of Mary. When my mom was pregnant with me, she told me that whenever she went to church to ask for the intercession of Our Lady of Guadalupe. My mother always prayed for a healthy child whenever she was there. That is why I thank God that there’s nothing wrong with me.
I always wanted a common name like Erica or Cathleen. I considered my name as one of the things I hated about myself. I despised my name. First of all, it is too long. It’s challenging enough for a toddler to memorize her “ABC’s”, let alone write her very long name. Second, my name is “teasable”. The taunts started when I was in grade 3. My teachers would revise my name in order to make it shorter. They would call me “Guada” or “Lupita” and then everybody would laugh. I do have a nickname but, for some reason, they’d rather toy with my name. I hated it and still do. Third, every time I introduced myself, there were only two reactions. One was “So your mother’s a devotee of Our Lady of Guadalupe?”, and the other one was “How did you get your nickname?”. It’s not that I get annoyed when people ask me questions. It’s just that when you hear it over and over again it gets irritating. With that, I proceed to my fourth and final reason for not liking my name; simply because, it’s not me.
My parents often argue about random things. I attempted to intervene at one point when I was four years old. My dad told me that I was too young and that I should butt out of the conversation. Since then, whenever I would hear them shout at each other, I’d just lock my doors and cry under my bed. Given that I am an only child, I had no outlet for all the emotions that I was feeling at that time. I bottled up my feelings to show them that I am not affected by their constant fighting. I would always find a way to get out of the house because I didn’t want to hear them bickering. But it was only until I stepped into high school that I discovered my true love and outlet for everything I wanted to express. The thing I’m talking about is music. Music, for me, releases every emotion in my body, be it with my parents or with school. I taught myself how to play the guitar. Ever since then, every time I would hear them quarreling, I’d just pick up my guitar and play all night.
Now, I can’t help but still hide my feelings towards others. Growing up in an environment full of hatred, you’d just want to escape and create you own fantasy island. Every time I strum the strings of my guitar, I feel free and relaxed. I feel like there’s no one else around me. All the insecurities, troubles and chaos simply don’t exist. Even with all these things happening to me, I still manage to stand straight with my head held up high. Because for me, there is no sense in holding on to your past if you can’t learn anything from it.