Hi, Hey, Hello!
This post somehow sprung to my mind through this post is where we ended up today:
Names are a weird thing aren’t they? Like you are given one with no say in the matter (at first anyway) and then you just sort of…live with it. And it becomes your identifier. The MAIN identifier for you. I once had a whole section of a tutorial at uni purely about names (it was Shakespeare, it was kinda relevant) and how, even though they don’t seem it, they are super duper important. They are kind of everything. Whether you believe it or not they are.
There is a point to that whole paragraph and the point is that my relationship with my name is kind of complicated. Not in an existential crisis kind of way just in a ‘huh?’ kind of way.
Huh, in that I didn’t realise that I cared that much. It’s just 6 letters. 6 letters that I am very used to arranging in that sequence to form the thing that people are gonna call me. It’s 6 letters that I answer to. Have answered to for 23 years (pretty much). Yet the slightest change in it and it throws me.
Now if there is one thing that I cannot stand it is being called Sophia. One because that is not my actual name, two because I flashbacks to A Level Spanish and that makes me want to vom just thinking about and three it’s not my fucking name. Like I am a relatively patient and chill person, but change the vowel at the end of my name and apparently I annoyance is all I am gonna feel.
But on the other side of that coin shorten my name and I will have some kind moment where I wonder if whatever kind of relationship we may have is there. Ya know like at the point where I feel okay with you just dropping two letters of the end of my name, like my dad still uses my full name, always, so are we there. Yet at the same time, and this is where it gets confusing, I am kind of…flattered I guess??
In my experience it seems to be a sign of comfortable or something. A sense of easiness or something. I dunno, it doesn’t really happen all that often to be honest. Up until about 3 months ago my mum was the only one person who called me any variation of my name (and probably the only one who could get away with what she calls me) but recently it’s become a trend. A slightly jarring trend, mainly because I’m not all that used to it.
I mean I don’t hate it or anything, far from it. However there have been some people in my time (wow sometimes I talk like I so old now…) that make me cringe when they address me like that, because yeah we are not that close. But generally I find it fascinating. A small part of me finds the relationship that other people have with my name fascinating, don’t ask me why. I just do.
And that brings this little odd post about names to a close.
Parentheses count: 4.
Actually I am gonna end it with Shakespeare, because it seems appropriate:
‘What’s in a name? that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet’
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