What's in a Name?

A name is something given to you by someone else.

I've known people who tried to change what they were called. (Sorry friends, in my head I still call you by the old name!) And I have even kind of done that. I used to go by "Sarah." Now I go by "Sarah Beth." But did I really change my name?

No. My friends in college started calling me "Sarah Beth" before I decided to officially own it. First one friend did it to kind of irritate me, because I was still doing my whole "I'm not Southern" thing and I thought that having a double name sounded Southern. Then a few other friends picked it up. Then John's family called me "Sarah Beth" because his sister is also named "Sarah." By the time I got to grad school it seemed like a no-brainer to just introduce myself as "Sarah Beth."

It used to feel overly personal for people to call me "Sarah Beth." Only family had called me that previously, and only occasionally. Now it feels too personal when people call me "Sarah." The only people who call me that knew me before I was "Sarah Beth."

Even though I get a little jolt by being called the "wrong" name, the truth is, I don't really care. People want you to choose, so I choose, but to quote my mother, "You can call my anything as long as you don't call me late for supper."

Of course I've changed my last name, too. I do miss my old name. It had character. It matched at least part of my ethnic heritage. It was unique. When you searched me on the Internet, I was the only one. But I've gotten used to my new name and I really can't imagine being anyone else.

I find it funny that both my children are quick to tell you what they want to be called, even though my husband and I, of course, gave them their names.

Virginia called herself "Zia Zia" before she could pronounce her name. But after a while, we started to wonder if she was trying to come up with a nick name for herself. I asked her, "Do you want to be called Zia Zia?"

She frowned at me and said, "No I'm Vir-gin-ia." She never mispronounced it again.

Horatio also defends his title. If I call him "honey" or "peanut" he says, "No! I not nut! Ray-sho!"

Of course he has no problem making up names for other people. He calls Virginia "Mine" and sometimes calls me, "Momma Me Me."

Every word is a name, giving us a way to talk about that thing. Many cultures believe names to be sacred. If a person knows your true name they can have power over you. What does it mean that the names we are known by so rarely come from ourselves?