My first name is “潇” – Xiao.
In Chinese, it means freedom, free will, and wildness.
My mom gave me this name right after I was born.
Looking at the tiny little creature in her arms, she thought, all she wanted for this little girl, was to be free and happy, and “潇” was the best wish she could give.
I love this name so much that I never gave myself an English one.
Instead, I prefer to tell everyone what it means.
“潇” fits my personality and energy so well, and I’m happy to see myself growing more and more into my name, and into who I truly am.
But there were many times I asked myself: how?
How could it be possible that I become such a free will person?
Cause from ages 8 to 18, I lived in the exactly opposite of that word:
forced separation from my mom for years, a high-pressure, utilitarian environment where survival meant reading people’s moods.
I pondered and pondered, but couldn’t find the answer.
Until one day, I thought back to the moment my mom gave me my name.
潇, Xiao.
She poured all her heart into wishing her little girl freedom and happiness, nothing more, right from the start of my life.
I was too young when motherly love was taken away from me, too young that I cannot even remember most of the moments of how she raised me.
But the name is the proof, I’m blessed from the very beginning.
潇 – I repeat my name again.
For so many years, every single day, someone has been calling it.
It’s like a enchanted spell, a seed buried under a pile of stones,
It’s so normal, so small, so invisible.
But precisely because it was hidden, when I faced oppression, it became the untouchable, unkillable part of me, quietly pointing me toward growth, leading me through countless painful nights, pushing me to sprout through the cracks in the rocks until I truly grew up.
Recently I called my mom, and I was casually sharing with her my current feeling of peace, calm, and living in the moment.
She listened so carefully, I could see the pride from her eyes.
In that moment, I thought of the caption from Barbie:
“We mothers stand still so our daughters can look back to see how far they’ve come.”
I think the seed was planted when she was my age. She wanted to be a bird, to live free and nomadic. But in her family there were so few resources to become that kind of person; she chose reality.
Years later she gave birth to me, and used my name as her best wish, wish that her girl could be free, could choose whatever life she wanted.
And that girl, after so much pain and pondering, really did grow up.
She really became someone who create her own narratives, someone kind and independent, with her free will.
She really lived the part her mom had longed for but couldn’t live herself.
That girl is the one her mom willingly stands still for,
she let go of my hand, smiling with tears as watching me fly, whispering:
“Go, go, my girl. Fly higher, fly farther.”
And now, the girl finally looks back.
She suddenly sees the path her mom and she have taken.
She waves from distance to her mom, smiling with tears, and says:
“Hey Mom, look, I’ve really flown very high and far. I’ve seen a bigger world and discovered myself more deeply. And I’m carrying a part of you as I live the best of my life.
Now I understand, I love you.”
❤️