Speech

Dear everyone,

Along the last seventeen and a half years of my life they’ve called me names1. Some would say “nicknames” as a denyal of their true effect on people, claiming they were affective or even friendly. But still I insist. They’ve called me names wich are not mine, since none of them are the one my parents gave me the day they knew I was meant to be a girl.
But today shall be remembered like the day when Melisa Altman from Villa Crespo2 raised her voice in protest and stood up for her befliefs, and every friend and relative who had a gram of respect for her in her body listened, and everyone who listened understood that if they wanted her to spread her wings she ought to be called by what she was, and not by every different facet each of them saw or wanted to see of her.
I’m not saying everyone I know should take the blame and rot in hell, no. It wasn’t until a week ago when I had this epiphany, and just until yesterday that I decided to break my chains. I dare you all to do so, and meet me elswhere in the road of life. Make sure you bring your wings fully spread, so you can follow your dream next to me while I follow the next one in my list, since this one has been fullfiled.

Proudly,
Melisa Altman


*1.
Names they’ve actually called me: 
Meli, Melu, Mel.
Mili
Altagirl, Altawoman
Meluchi, Melcho, Melchos
Pachamama, má
Polla G.
Melusa, Melisa Melosa
Melanie, Melinconisa (Not sure if this one counts, is in an invented language I speak with my mom and uncle.)


Names never got to be called outloud, but still they’ve thought of:
Zafrina, Siobhan, Cora
Melikka, Meliditta


*2. Melisa Altman whose childhood was splitted between Flores and Villa Crespo but will always be a Crespo-girl since there’s where she first went out to the streets by her own and where she has been living her teenage days.