Calla, like the calla lily, felt like a symbol of resilience and quiet grace — something that blooms even in difficult conditions. It reminded me of the beauty that can come from complexity, and the way we often soften before we grow stronger.

Later, I learned that the lily is the birth flower for July, my birth month. That felt like a quiet affirmation — as if this name had been waiting for me all along.

Hart came from the idea of heart — the center of emotion, courage, and love — but spelled in a way that also echoes the vulnerability of being hunted or exposed. It felt honest. It felt fitting.

Together, Calla Hart became a name that could hold the weight of my story. One that could walk into tender territory with care, and offer language where there had once been silence.

This name allowed me to tell the truth, without needing to tell everything.