Well, a couple of hours ago, actually, but still.
I’ve always been kind of annoyed with my name for reasons I could never quite articulate.
It became easy to explain my annoyance, when I entered the English speaking universe, because my Norse name is a word used for something entirely else in English. Much to the mirth of many people I introduced myself to. Of course, every single English-speaking person whom I ever told my name (as in those who hadn’t been told my name before meeting me), said to me “Oh that’s funny, did you know that means [...] in English”. Well, gee no, asshat, I’m only fluent in English and have been studying at university for a few years, as well as having had this name since birth.
No really. You’re right, it could be that I didn’t know. I mean, it’s not like it’s such a funny coincidence that every single English speaking person ever has made the quick giggle and let me know how funny it is that my name is a word and that there’s a word in English that’s just like it. Wow. Or was it that you thought that everyone else had just been more polite than you and decided not to let me know? Because if that’s it, then maybe you’d be smart to consider politeness an option for yourself?
But no, by all means let your immediate and uncensored thoughts spill over and tell me how funny it is that my name is actually a name (in Danish, mind you, so maybe it doesn’t really count?) and not just a silly word in English.
And people say autistics are prone to blurting out impolite observations. Believe me when I say I always got the worst ones from allistic people.
Anyway. the above was my official reason for not liking my name. It was also my official reason for taking another name and adding it to my legal name. It made sense to people, because everyone can understand the annoyance at being laughed at.
But this was not the reason. This was never the reason. And while I didn’t know the real reason, I certainly did know that this wasn’t it. At best, the above scenarios made me fiercely protective of my name. They might even have made me really want to like my name, because damned if I’d let ignorant wannabe-jokesters ruin my good name. Literally.
Except it wasn’t them what ruined it. My name has never sat quite right with me. And I still don’t know exactly why.
But this is actually the first time since I got my diagnosis that I’m carefully thinking about this. And I have become more aware of my own responses to stuff.
The simply and perhaps silly truth about it is that my name sounds wrong. It feels wrong to speak it aloud. I can write my name with no problems at all. In text it works – as long as I remember not to read it to myself.
It’s when I speak my name that the truth will out. My name is a disharmonious discord of ugly noise in my ears. It tastes like mud on my tongue. Mind, I still don’t know why that is. But it certainly does explain why I don’t like it. And why I’ve never liked saying it. It’s not the name itself – I actually kind of like the name’s meaning and history – it’s the sound of it. Just the sound of it.
That’s… kind of unfortunate.
And I have no idea what I’d call myself in Danish instead of this name, so I’m sort of stuck with this one. Also: how the everloving fuck would I ever explain this to anyone?
I actually have a similar reason for hating my name (the second reason, not the first). I didn’t think anyone else actually did that! But yeah, the reason I call myself Kitty and Katt is because my full name… I hate the way it tastes. The way it sits in my mouth is just horrible. I can’t think how else I can describe my dislike other than “it tastes weird”.
And those people who teased your name are arse-hats.
Thanks
It’s nice to know I’m not the only one.
…okay, now I’m really curious about your name. Right now I can’t come up with a Danish name, which is also a silly word in English
But whatevs. If you like the history and the meaning of your name, how about finding a name with either the same/almost the same meaning and/or a name with a history – and which doesn’t sound disharmonious in your ears.
And to be honest, I don’t think it so weird to find some names disharmonious when spoken. It’s probably not common when it comes to one’s own name, as most people get used to their name and very often we “like” the thing we’re used to/consider it normal. But I think we all have preferences when it comes to names, and this hierarchy of which names we like can definitely be affected by which sounds we like and how the name is pronounced.
- Mry@Tumblr.
Well, I’m not gonna give any hints on here, ’cause if I do it’ll be really bloody obvious and I like my anonymity. Maybe in private, if you’re dying of curiosity
There is no direct alternative to my name. See, I’m officially named after my father’s aunt (I think), that I never met or knew. But the name itself is the name of one of the Norse Goddesses, which is kinda cool I have to say, even if she’s one of the less known ones. So there really isn’t one with a similar meaning/history.
Another thing is, I might choose a name – though I think I’d be bloody indecisive if I really had to go about it – but I’m always terribly self-conscious about those things, so every time I find myself fancying a name I always end up second-guessing myself as in “would it be super-pretentious of me to take a name with [so and so] meaning? – it probably would – so I won’t”.
And next comes the explanations for my surroundings. As I said in my post: how the heck would I explain my reasoning to anyone who’s not aware of things like neurotypes and sensory processing disorders etc.? It’s just…. I have no idea where to even begin. And much less how to get people to call me by the new name. That’s just…. wow.
A friend of our family has changed her last name, as part of the process of breaking all connections with her emotionally abusive father. Another friend of the family changed her first name because she was named after the stillborn girl she was the replacement for (traumatic much?). I know about the former, because she told me herself. I know about the latter because my parents told me (it’s their friend, really, though I’ve known her since I was a toddler). And I was a very small child when she changed her name. I only vaguely remember calling her by the name her parents so thoughtlessly gave her. But age-wise…. I think she didn’t change her first name till her parents were dead, though I’m not sure about that. And can think of several reasons that might be.
I mean, one thing is deciding on a new name and telling peripheral relations and acquaintances that the reasons are personal and private, but your parents? Or rather…. my parents… I think my mum will wonder and I doubt she’ll understand. She’s such a pragmatic sort, and she appears to have very little emotional connection nor emotional reactions to anything other than people. Though I could be wrong about that. I strongly doubt she’ll understand any explanation I might give for getting rid of my first name. She’ll definitely understand why I might want to shed the last name I got from my father, and keep the one I got from mum and maybe add my granma’s maiden name. But those are last names… in daily life they’re kind of a peripheral part of your identity, seeing as they’re not what people call you. I don’t know how she’d handle a new first name for me. My father…. he won’t understand any of it. He doesn’t understand any part of me at all. And I’m kind of afraid of what his reaction might be. In many things he’s extremely predictable to me, and I’ll know exactly what kind of offensive he’ll be about which things and usually also when. But this… I have no idea how he’ll react to this.
Maybe it’s not weird. But the more I think about it, I’m coming up with the notion that part of my reluctance to introduce myself to others is literally reluctance to say my name. And believe me, it’s not just about liking and disliking how it sounds. I could deal with a name that sounded odd – I mean… I *am* odd, it would kind of suit me
But saying my name makes me uncomfortable in a physical sense. Like someone just broke a window or a dinner plate next to my ear or something like that. When I speak the word that is my name it feels like it is not even a name I am speaking. It feels wrong on all sorts of levels that I cannot even begin to deconstruct.
I think the conclusion is that my head likes to fuck with me :-/
I’ve always felt, as a kid at least, that the name I have on my legal documents- “Savannah Logsdon”- is too round in my mouth, and too warmish. More so when I was little, when the only alternative was “sav” and that didn’t help much as it just tasted like grassy roundness.
When I was 13ish, I got online and I made up a new name that was less round to me. “Nicolette Coer” which ended up having more meaning than I had thought about at the time. Eventually, it was shortened by friends to “Nico”- which also works for my legal, birth Middle name of “nicole”.
Now even my niece calls me Nico. And I’m okay with my Legal first name now, and okay enough with my legal last name that it doesn’t taste horrible in my mouth- but I still want to change it to my stepfather’s last name, for a wide variety of reasons. Thus the hyphenated name I use professionally.