“What’s your name, honey,” they ask.

“Misty,” I reply at eight.

“Mitzy?” they ask.

“M-I-S-T-Y,” I reply at nine.

“Mitzy?” they ask.

“Is your middle name Dawn?” they ask.

“No,” I reply at eleven.

“Mitzy?” they ask again.

“Yes,” I reply at fourteen.

I meet Dawn the second week of high school, and within a few hours, we establish a plan to navigate high school, boyfriends, marriages, and our first…