While at work, I struck up convesation with a co-worker about people with odd spellings of names.
He brought up a very good point, that I spell Ken, with two N’s. I brushed it off, “Well you know it’s just a shorter version of Kenneth.” Throughout the day he called me Kenneth. It was odd. I haven’t been called Kenneth or gone by such name in a very long time.
People ask from time to time about my name, the why the spelling. I usually given them a very generic answer that most people take with out a second thought.
“Kenneth sounds very formal, I would rather have a more laid back name, Ken… the extra N is to differentiate.”
The reality is much different and rather dark. The day my soccer career ended, was the day Kenneth died, in a way, of course. Kenn is the person that came out of that disaster. The person that came home from the hospital was not the same person that had been on the playing field hours ago. This was a broken man-child with no idea what do to. For the past 10 years of his life he knew one thing and one thing, to play soccer. This person had no other aspirations other than to play soccer. The dream of playing for the sub-16 USA soccer team was crushed. There was no plan B.
Kenneth faded because he no longer existed. He had lost everything and couldn’t understand why.
Kenn is the person I needed to be and became to overcome.
Hope this brought some clarity on who I am or at least a part of who I am.