I don’t have a middle name.
I was almost Roberto Carlos Sánchez — Carlos after my dad’s only brother.
But somewhere along the way, that didn’t happen.
So I became just Roberto Sánchez.
My last name means “son of Sancho.”
Old Spanish lineage. Medieval bloodline. Migration. History.
But my first name?
My mom chose it because she liked it. She once dated someone named Roberto and kept the name — not the man.
So my identity is split like that.
My father’s lineage in my last name.
My mother’s preference in my first.
No middle name anchoring me to someone else’s shadow.
Just me.
Reader question: Does your name feel like something you inherited — or something you’ve grown into?
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