Naming Yourself

Elaine Viets

My grandfather called me Angel.
Spend five minutes with me, and you'll know that nickname doesn't fit. No one ever called me Angel after Grandpa passed away.
In fact, I've never had a nickname. One friend tried Lainie, but that didn't stick, either.
When Catholic children are confirmed – about age 11 – we get to choose another new name. Did I choose a then-cool name like Kathleen, Susan, Linda?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nope, I picked Agnes, the patron saint of young girls who was martyred for refusing to marry the emperor's son. At age 11, I embraced my inner dork and became Elaine Frances Agnes Viets.

Eleven seems to be about the time girls try on new names. In my latest Josie Marcus mystery shopper novel, "Death on a Platter," 11-year-old Amelia is experimenting with her name. She tries first Mel, then M.
"Amelia is a baby name," she tells her mother, Josie. "Mel is more sophisticated."
Josie is hurt that her daughter had rejected her given name. Amelia's late father had been a dashing helicopter pilot. Josie had named her for Amelia Earhart, the woman explorer.

 

Josie's own mother, Jane, was amused. Here's the scene from "Death on a Platter."

"I love it when chickens come home to roost," Jane said. "You've forgotten how many times you changed your name when you were her age. Remember when you wanted to be called Josephine?"
"I did?" Josie asked.
"And you were quite the little empress. I even made you an empire-waist gown for Halloween."
Josie had vague memory of a long high-waisted yellow dress with puffed sleeves and a crown with plastic jewels.
"Your Highness left the throne when you couldn't learn French."
"I never was good at languages," Josie said.

The yellow empire dress was the good part of that memory. She hoped her mother wouldn't recall Josie draping herself languidly on the living room couch like the real Josephine. She'd asked her mother to serve her dinner. Jane had had a few choice words about that stunt.
"After Josephine, you tried on Jo for size," her mother said. "That was your Little Women phase."

[image error] "I liked Louise May Alcott," Josie said. "Jo was the smart sister. Amy was pretty, but a simp."
Jane continued relentlessly. "That phase lasted a couple of months. Next you were Joey. You said Josie was too girly."
Josie thought she heard a chicken clucking. She felt embarrassed for her 11-year-old self.
"Then it was Jay-Jay." Jane was really piling on the guilt.
Josie remembered practicing two versions of that name on a lined tablet. She'd written Jay-Jay and J. J. with blimp-like J's that she'd thought looked elegant.
"You told me that Josie was old and boring," Jane said. "Like those were two worst things anyone could be."
Please stop, Josie begged mentally. "What made me go back to Josie?"
"You read a history of the Wild West that said Josie Marcus was the woman Wyatt Earp loved," Jane said. "There was some doubt that Josie Marcus had even married the lawman. That's when you decided your name was romantic, even dangerous."
Josie felt a hot blush burn her cheeks. Trust me to pick a woman with an uncertain reputation, she thought.
"Amelia is acting like a normal girl her age, Josie." Jane's voice was crisp. "She's trying on identities the way we try on clothes. When she finds a name that fits her, she'll keep it, just like you did."
"Thanks, Mom. That's smart advice."
"I get smarter as you get older," Jane said.

Did your given name fit you? Did you try on other names for size until you found one that worked better?