I was pretty sure that I misheard her the first time, but it was clear upon returning to the vineyard that the woman behind the counter thinks my name is Goat. 

I can’t see what is listed on the computer, but she always asks for my email to pull up our account, an uncomfortable pause follows, and then she  says, “aaaaaaah, Goat…” I try to smile while I repeat “Jodi,” both pretending now that we’re saying the same thing. Yet the transaction continues and we go home with the most delicious wine in our area. Is it the “Greatest Of All Time”? — I don’t know, but apparently, I am. 

It used to upset me. People rarely get my non-French name here. But I think it says more about me than them. I was on unsure ground, so easily rattled. The years haven’t really changed them, but I find myself stronger every day. And isn’t it the way with all belief? With strength? Possibly even greatness? It has to come from within.

Maybe everything is about timing. Watching Simone Biles displaying her gold medals, explaining how she wears her goat necklace proudly, I smile and think, me too, and pour another glass of wine.