Sunflower Proud

Well over a decade ago, in a grungy apartment in Morgantown, a friend dubbed me "Sunflower." You see, two of my friends would sometimes refer to themselves, half-jokingly, as "Tiger Lily" and "Black-Eyed Susan." Silly, I know, but it suited them. Anyway, one day my friend (the Tiger Lily one) said, "You have to be Sunflower." And it stuck.

Years later, I am seeing how appropriate it is. At the time, Tiger Lily didn't even really know me that well (I was closer to Black-Eyed Susan). But apparently she knew enough about sunflowers. That they have different faces and appearances, for example. Or that many are awkward-looking. And especially that they need a lot of encouragement from something bright and warm in order to lift their faces and show themselves. But when they do, they can be wonderful and useful, even beautiful.

Those friends and I still joke about it, and one of them will sometimes say, "So I said to myself, 'Black-Eyed Susan...'" And to those two friends, I'm still Sunflower. Even on days when I feel so sad and beaten down by circumstances on the path I chose, I can still remember that I have it within me to grow, to stand tall and face the sun, and to radiate and reflect something beautiful.