Veronica

“​Hi, Vero Pedo​…Ay..Just kidding…How are you mija?”
When I was a child, this is how my uncles would always greet me. In Spanish, pedo means fart. Most people’s bullies are acquaintances on the blacktop at school, the mean kid in your class with a shaved head who comes from a bad home. Not me. My bullies were my own family, my uncles who would make fun of my name…​Vero Pedo, Vero Pedo, Vero Pedo. ​As a kid, these words would sear into my heart, causing a volcano inside me. It was a long time before I came to love my name.
I do think my name is beautiful. My name comes from Latin and has many meanings. One meaning is the phrase ​Veraiconica​ which means true image. Veronica was also the woman in the bible who wiped the face of Jesus while he carried the cross to his death; the cloth she used is now famously the shroud of Tourin.
I had always thought that I was named after my mom’s little sister, my Tia Vero. Tia Veronika (she spells it with a ​k​) who was so beautiful her husband abducted her at the age of thirteen in their town in Michoacan. However, my father recently told me the real meaning of my name.
The conversation went something like this. “Dad, was I named after my Tia Vero?”

“No!” he brusquely replied. “No, I named you after a bull fighting move. Yeah, when I was a young guy in Tlatenango, I loved going to see bullfights. They were just so cool. So, I named you Veronica.”
So, bullfighting. Yeah. It turns out I wasn’t named after my sweet and beautiful aunt like I had thought, like I had hoped. I was named for a bullfighting move. I am named for a contradiction; for graceful violence; for a fond memory, but a cruel practice; for something equally a symbol of strength and barbarity; for a tradition but not the one I had expected.
People often mistake me for a Vanessa, Victoria, Valerie. I have often wondered if they thought me too plain for such an exotic, powerful, and gorgeous name as Veronica. But I am Veronica. Veronica which means truth. Veronica which sounds melodic and exotic. Veronica which warrants compliments. Veronica, a much more beautiful name than I probably deserve.
My name has made me strong. Some people love their hair. Others take pride in their beautiful faces. Still others are athletic, graceful, popular, cool. Well, I was never those things. I was the fat nerd named Veronica whom everyone thought was named Vicky, a much less sonorous name. Now, I love correcting people. As soon as they say another V name, I immediately just say, “​Veronica.”
“Oh, yes, of course, I’m sorry.”
I nod. I accept their apology. I do not say, “It’s okay.”

Veronica.​ That is all I have to say in response. One word. One name. But, what I am really saying is, ​go ahead, underestimate me. It didn’t go well for the bull, let’s see how it goes for you.