When my mam was pregnant with me she was watching a movie.  There were a young man riding a horse down to the seaside. And he was crying a name, looking for someone, for a girl, calling her name out loud. Such a romantic picture that my mom liked very much. And seems that I liked it too, at least my mom said like that because I started to move inside her stomach and pushed her from inside. I doubt that I understand much and really could like or dislike something back than. But my mother decided that she names me after that girl.

That name that the guy from an unknown movie was crying was Inga. My name is Maria. My father didn’t like that story of my mam and her decision and said that I was going to be named after his granma. My parents divorced when I was a child. I haven’t seen my father for ages.

That’s why most mart of my life I didn’t like my name. Stupid and not interesting, very popular. and I wanted to be special. Now I realize that the story of my name, the story of my family and everything that I went through makes my special. As far as anyone else.