It’s taken me years to come to terms with my name. Being a product of the ’80s, I was the only one in my classes christened with a name whose popularity peaked in 1960. With my sand-colored hair and freckles, I’ve always been told that I simply “look like a Sandy.” (Technically, my given name is Sandra–but Sandy stuck.) Over the years, I’ve come to accept that my name is unique, especially for my age group. For some, I’m the only Sandy people know–which means I can make the name my own. Which is awesome…until a tropical cyclone hits the Atlantic….