What’s In A Name? Everything!

In her book, The Power of Names, Mavis Himes writes that a name “is like an elongated shadow attached at our heels.”

For most, our name was given to us by others, usually parents, and then left for us to internalize that name and all that it means. It can be a gift or it can be a curse but it will ultimately define our relationship to ourselves and possibly others.

She changed her name when she was 12. 

One sunny fall afternoon my daughter and I were visiting a friend. My friend, Penny, and I had harvested the last of the beans and summer squash from her garden and were prepping them for canning while my daughter and one of her friends played outside. Suddenly they burst into the cabin, laughing and giggling like girls will do. My daughter came up and asked, “Mom, what was going to be my name if I was a boy?” To which I replied without missing a beat, Erik Zachary. She grew quiet for a moment, thinking, chewing on that name before blurting out, “Erik is good, but Zachary–why?” 

Our conversation went on like that for a few minutes. Then she announced that she was going to change her name. I was naturally curious as to why so I sat down on the floor with her to chat. She told me that the kids at school teased her because of her name. She was rather matter-of-factly about the whole thing. And she was determined. 

A name represents identity, a deep feeling, and holds tremendous significance to its owner.

Rachael Ingber

Her father wanted that name, Camila. He loved how it sounded and when he discovered that Camila was a version of Camellia, the flower. That nailed it for him. He wanted his daughter to have and be all things but most especially he wanted her to feel beautiful. His intention was good.

From the moment she was born, I was determined that my daughter would know she was loved unconditionally. I worked to create a world where she knew there were no limits to what she could do. I wanted to give her the strength to stand up for herself and demand to be treated fairly and equally. I wanted her to know that being female was not a hindrance as it had been when I was a child. 

So I gave her the dolls and the play kitchen and baby stroller. I also gave her Tonka trucks and building blocks and books. Books we read together where the main character was female and strong. 

My mother gave her pink and frilly clothes. I purchased the overalls, tee shirts and jeans. Mom gave her tiny ballet style shoes and lacy socks. I bought sneakers. 

Don’t get me wrong, I love pink and lacey. I simply wanted her to have it all, to gain a sense that she could be a firefighter or a ballerina, it would always be her choice.

So on that bright September day when she came running in with this big announcement, I couldn’t have been more proud of her. They read a story in class that day about a young child who, when born, was not given a name. His parents had decided to let the child choose his own name in his own time. They were confident that he’d decide the perfect name at exactly the right time. And he did.

Inspired by this story, my daughter decided it was time for her to do just that, take a name, her name. She proudly announced that from that day forward she’d be known as Erica. 

I was elated. I loved her birth name and would never have thought about changing it. But at this moment I was in total awe, so taken in by her spirit and passion, how could I not support this?

When we left our friend’s cabin we went to the library and looked the name up. We discovered that Erica means Ruler. The deal was sealed.

Initially her father was not happy, he took it personally. My mom, who loved my daughter so much, was not thrilled either. But my daughter is a stubborn soul and hung on for dear life. They reached a compromise–Erica would allow them to continue to call her Cammy as long as they recognized that her real name was Erica.

There was an undeniable, astonishing change in Erica’s energy after that day at the cabin. She became more self-assured, more confident, more centered. She became Erica.

What’s in a name? Everything! 

I changed my name when I was 35.

I was born Dorothy Lee Strickland. My birth father abandoned us when I was three. Long story short, mom moved on and married a guy with a long Italian last name who was abusive. Fast forward a few more years, I marry a guy with a simple German last name. My legal record showed: Dorothy Lee Strickland long-italian-name short-common-german-name. 

My husband with the short-common-last name was an ok guy but like many, we got married for all the wrong reasons and after years of discord, we decided to part. When I filed for divorce I was given an opportunity to change my name. And I did. It was liberating to think that I could let go of all the names of all those men who’d not been there for me, who abused, neglected, abandoned and simply didn’t care. It was freeing, an opportunity to start anew–new name, new me.

But what would I name myself? 

Friends came up with many, many ideas–some funny, some beautiful–but none that resonated with me. I wanted my own name and at the same time, I wanted connection to family. So I took my time and played with all the possibilities.

Remember when you were in school and you’d get a crush on someone and you’d spend hours dreaming of meeting and dating and marrying that person? Remember how you’d write his/her/their name along with yours in your notebook? Like, Mrs. Dorothy Lee Jones or Mrs. Dorothy Lee Peterson? Well, that’s exactly what I did only without the “Mrs.” I researched family and names, then I’d write them down, say them out loud, practiced my signature, over and over, looking for that one that clicked.

My mother’s maiden name was Byrd and I loved grandma and grandpa Byrd. Plus the word bird lit a fire in my soul–freedom! How absolutely perfect. It was settled, my full legal name: Dorothy Lee Byrd. I go by Lee Byrd and I love it.

When my second husband and best friend and I married I wanted to make it clear that I was not taking his last name. But I didn’t have to. I didn’t have to give him the speech about how taking his name might infer that I was his property. I didn’t have to tell him I was a strong independent woman capable of carrying my own name. He knew. That’s one of the zillion reasons I fell in love and married him. He knew.

Names are important

Names are important not only because they identify us but they also link us to family and to generations, past and future. But more importantly, our name influences our life. 

For example, the name Camila means a young ceremonial attendant–sweet but passive. But the name Erica means ruler–strong, intentional.

The name Lee derived from Leah, meaning clearing. Dorothy means gift of the Gods. Perfectly describes me!

What’s in a name? Everything! 

Then love knew it was called love.
And when I lifted my eyes to your name,
suddenly your heart showed me my way.

Pablo Neruda

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Journal Exercise

Consider taking out your journal and exploring this subject. As always, start by placing yourself in a quiet space with little or no distractions. Take a few deep breaths and answer this questions. Remember not to overthink, be spontaneous–write the first things that come to mind for you.

• What is your name? 
• How does your name feel to you when you say it out loud?
• Do you love it? Why or why not?
• Have you ever wanted to change it? Why or why not?
• If you could, what would you change your name to?

When finished, get up and stretch, drink some water, consider a short meditative walk keeping your awareness on your body and the sensations within.