It plants seeds in your heart and grows roots in your lungs, reaching further with each breath you feed it. It stems up your spine and bends with you as if every move you make were a soft breeze or a gust of wind. It branches out your ears everytime you hear it—it blooms in your mouth everytime you say it.

My name is a flower: one of the rarest of its kind. Though if you look hard enough, you will find gardens full of it. With cultivated soil and a shining sun, this flower is unstoppable. Indestructable…Because even the tiny seed knows it must first be buried in darkness and sprout through the dirt to attain the warmth of the sun’s rays.

The diversity of the Alyssum flaunts itself in bleached whites and resplendent yellows, and if you’re lucky, she’ll radiate a playful pink or a peaceful purple. She blooms in abundance but presents herself meekly, causing people to take her for granted. Sometimes she will go ignored by all passers-by, no matter how effervescent her presence or how potent her perfume may be.

But this, however, does not hinder the Alyssum from flourishing. She embraces the soil in which she takes root. She embraces the sunshine. And, of course, she embraces the rainy days. Because no flower can grow without a storm every now and then.

My name is Alyssa. I believe my parents chose this name for me because they knew I would be able to fend for myself. I could handle whatever thunderstorm Nature—or life—might send my way. I would be unstoppable. Indestructable. And I would radiate light and flourish in this world. I would be a flower. An Alyssum.