When I was born, my dad gave me a nickname that puzzled most and amused the rest: Amicus Curiae. Latin for “friend of the court,” it’s a term used in law to describe someone who offers insight or expertise in a case, even if they’re not directly involved. It’s not the kind of name you typically give to a baby. But my dad, in all wry humor and maybe a touch of hopefulness, thought it suited me.

He imagined me as someone who would speak up when it mattered- not just for myself, but for others. Someone who’d know how to stand a step outside the noise and offer something meaningful. I wasn’t born into a courtroom, but into a family that valued thoughts, fairness, and a bit of eccentricity.

Of course, “Amicus Cuiae” didn’t quite roll off the tongue in everyday life. Before long, it was lovingly shortened- compressed by the heat and rhythm of family life- into Meekus. A name that stuck like syrup, sweet and strange, and somehow just right. It became less about Latin and law, and more about laughter around dinner tables, inside jokes, and the shorthand only a family can invent and understand.

Meekus became my identity in the most intimate corners of my world-an affectionate echo of something once formal, not familial. it carries both the original spirit and the personal story. A bridge between who i was imagined to be and who I’ve grown into.

And sometimes, when I hear the full name- Amicus Curiae I smile. It reminds me that even from the beginning, someone believed I’d be a friend to truth, to fairness, and maybe most of all, to people.