You know it’s important when I’m: (a) blogging on a weekend; (b) blogging at home.
I had a thought, one that I immediately laughed at because it made me understand myself a little better. Those moments are cool.
Growing up, I didn’t meet the first “other” “Isabella” until I was 8. My family was really into camping as I grew up, mostly because my Dad chased the surf along the Pacific. Mom and I loved it. I was in San Quintin, Mexico, when another little girl, toe-haired, just like me, introduced herself as “Isabella.”
Interesting interruption: I was texting my Dad inquiring about our trips to Mexico and he also remembers the family of “Isabella.” We spent a weekend camping near them and ended up keeping slightly in touch. Isabella’s dad is/was a teacher in IB. Apparently, he has since run into the dad of “Isabella” surfing in Imperial Beach (San Diego, CA). Also, there was a brother… who is now a doctor. I don’t remember him but that goes to show where I was in my age #boyshavecooties
I remember my reaction, I was so genuinely excited. It felt like we were connected in some way that other people got to experience, all the time (Katies, Claires, etc.) When I asked her what she went by, puzzled, she responded, “Isabella?” That’s probably the most prominent time I can remember when I had a little sparkle in my chest because “Bella” started to feel… special to me. Silly, I know. But I was also 8 and used to the extremely common response of “Oh! Bella, what a beautiful name! You know what that means in Spanish/Italian/etc. right?” This special feeling lasted until my freshman year of college. I think (know) it gave me some weird Napoleon complex that I try desperately to over-compensate for by being an annoyingly good person. The worst part is, I think that over-compensation is making me normal.
Honestly, that’s all I’ve got to say. I just thought it was SUPER interesting because on my introduction page I found it necessary to mention that there are other famous Bellas in the world. When up until pretty recently, I was the only Bella I knew.
I think college reminded me that not only are there better looking people than me, but like a lot of them, and some even have my same name.
It sounds conceited but I know other people can relate to it. In fact, one of my best friends still struggles with it. It’s common for people who are “similar” who go to college together, aka people that found themselves as the “same” person in the HS social scene. In high school making friends is as easy as getting an A. You have to put in some effort, but in the end, you end up questioning how it even happened in the first place. It’s the common relation of a “small town” feeling (being well-known) that completely disappears when you go to a University. It wasn’t hard to be a badass in high school, especially when your high school had a graduating class of 86 people. And I think my friends and I were hella badass.