My name means a jewel-quality fossilized resin. It is a warm honey shade that is welcoming, yet transparent. It’s the sun peeking through the window on a summer morning or the trees as they change into hues of orange and yellow in autumn. It is like brown eyes that glow golden in the sun.

I wasn’t always an Amber. When my parents found out they were having a baby girl they were fixed on naming me, Megan. But something changed.  I was born and they saw something in me that was different. Suddenly, Megan didn’t quite fit. I’m glad I wasn’t named Megan. It’s too uptight for my personality. I am more silly and laid back than the name Megan. 

Many call me by my given name because it doesn’t have the potential to be a nickname. When my friends say my name it’s casual. Reminding me of when we make jokes and just have fun. But my parents say my name as if it’s the most beautiful thing. It makes me feel special and welcome in my home. When my grandparents say my name it is precious. Delicate. And often complemented by my middle name, Marie. 

Marie is my great grandmother. She was graceful and dainty, like a fine piece of jewelry. My grandmother calls me sweet girl and miss Marie and it makes me feel forever young. Whenever my sister and I went to visit her, she would embrace me in a hug and say “Hello Miss Marie” and kiss me on the head. My dad calls me silly names that make me laugh and makes our relationship so close. 

Amber preserves the past. It surrounds creatures and insects in a fossilized manner. My name holds on to nature for research and observation. I’d like to think I do the same thing with my family. I surround them with positive energy and love that can be preserved forever. 

I used to want a different name that was prettier or more unique. I have grown to appreciate it because my parents named me and I have lived with it for 16 years. It connects me to the earth, the sun glowing through my eyes, the trees changing hues of orange and gold in autumn, and the crystal itself that preserves life.