Cullen MacDonald

When I had nothing to my name, I didn't even have a name to assign my possessions. I was nameless for my first twenty-four hours of life.

My mother was expecting her second daughter, but she got her second son instead. Nurses of the East Grand Rapids Blodgett Hospital demanded a name, but my parents weren't prepared. Twenty-four hours later, Cullen was selected based on heritage and its uniqueness, but not without a prayer that Cullen wouldn't end up petitioning in the newspaper to change his name. Eighteen years later, I have appeared in a newspaper several times, but only for good things.

Cullen is Gaelic, a large part of my bloodline, and means "handsome lad." I'll leave it up to the reader to decide if I embody that definition.

A lot of people struggle pronouncing my name. Thanks to a family of sparkly vampires from the Twilight saga though, people have an easier time remembering my name, and comprehending that my name is not Collin.

Aside from constant inquiries for free Big Macs, MacDonald is not such a bad last name. It means "son of Donald, the ruler of the world." I'll take it. Interestingly though, MacDonald hasn't always been MacDonald. My great great grandfather was a McDonald in Scotland, but a MacDonald from Ellis Island on. My grandpa Mac, who knew my great great grandfather personally, couldn't get an answer for the Mc to Mac change. My great great grandfather would say our family was just a clan of sheep stealers. I guess we've come a long way.

I am Cullen MacDonald.