My name is much like me. At first glance, it may appear plain or unremarkable but when it comes down to choosing the most accurate cliché, my name can best be explained by saying that there is much more than meets the eye. Its ethnic origins mirror my ancestral blend, which indicate my light skin, freckled complexion and bright blue eyes but the stories which I associate with it are quirky and unique, sometimes verging on ridiculous.
I can remember with vivid detail, flipping through my baby book to the list of potential names which my parents toiled over before deciding on the one which I bear today. As a true child of the ’80s, I was upset because I wanted to have a ‘cool’ name like Cindy. One day, my Dad started calling me Cindy just to interrupt my incessant whining and he met roaring success. I no longer wanted such a silly name. Mine suited me much better.
As time progressed, I learned how complicated my simple name could be. There have always been people who have known me for months or even years before learning the correct combination of my first, middle and family name. To make matters worse, I’ve adopted a series of nicknames over the years which makes the correct order of my name even more difficult to figure out. The discovery of my legal name in its correct form is most often followed by embarrassment on the behalf of the other person and reassurance that it always happens that way on mine. It’s turned into something of a non-issue since I’ve developed the preference for my ‘hyphenated’ name.
My middle name is complex both in its identification and history. Although it’s a name passed down through generations to me, it wasn’t always that way and was only adopted by my family when they immigrated to Canada from the old country. It wasn’t a name that they liked but it stood out as being unique in an area filled with others bearing mutations of generic titles comparable to ‘John Smith’. After carrying the name for three generations, my mother, being an only child, wanted to pass it down somehow, so my parents lobbed her name in half and used the second piece as my middle name. I would like to pass it along one day too.
Perhaps the most fun I’ve had with my name has come with my travels over the last several years. I’ve learned that the pronunciation of my name is nearly impossible for those who are not native English speakers. It means crude things in some languages and is said with looks of confusion by speakers of others. I suppose there is the potential of this happening with anyone’s name but I still enjoy the giggle whenever it happens to me.
Regardless, these are just some of the things which make my name as unique as me. It would appear that sometimes all the fun is in the little details which often go overlooked.
So what is my name? I guess you’ll just have to ask me to find out.
