They call me Everly, but that wasn't my real name, my mother named me Grant.
     For a girl, with big eyes, and strong cheeks, I suppose it fit. Practically every targeted insult was the fact that I was called a boy name, and looked like a boy.
         "That is nonsense Grant, your name is not a boy name, your great grandmother was named Grant Elise, and she became a Duchess! Her mother before that was Grant Myrane. It is a family tradition."
              "Oh yeah, then why is your name the simple Elizabeth? Did grandmother just not get the memo? Or did she think the naming of Grant for a lady was just unavailing as I think?"
           "Eat your toast, and stop your nagging Grant, you're beautiful, your name is beautiful! Would you like some jam?"
      My mother strongly believes my name is something truly special.
       But you practically never noticed its existence.
      It was a part of me, that was welcomed openly.