SAY MY NAME
Here’s a fun fact about me: I don’t really like saying my name out loud. Saying it one time is doable, but if I have to keep saying it, things get awkward. I’m sorry to say that when people ask me to repeat my name for clarification, my voice goes up at the end? Like it’s a question? That annoying way of speaking that drives everyone crazy?
I think I am secretly afraid that I’m saying it wrong. Yes, my own first name.
My averseness to saying names sometimes extends to other people’s names. Like Drew. For some reason, I’m always expecting someone to call me on my “totally weird” way of saying his name. Like, am I making the “Dr” sound into too much of a “J” sound? Or am I over-emphasizing the “ooo”? It shouldn’t be a difficult name – that’s one of the reasons his mom picked it for him – but it’s become this occasional mental stumbling block for me.
It’s a similar feeling as when you repeat a single word over and over again (like egg, or hamster) and it starts to lose all meaning. What is a Drew anyway? Although I have always been jealous of people whose names also function as words: like my fifth-grade teacher, whose first name was Star. She could collect all kinds of things with stars on them. What could I collect?
Drew and I rarely call each other by our names, when it’s just the two of us. (Maybe he’s also nervous he’s saying it wrong.) Some embarrassing nicknames may or may not come into play. I figure at some point, as the many years of marriage weigh on us, we’ll transition into using each other’s names. Or maybe we won’t. That’s what makes us us, I suppose.
The other day at a work function I had to introduce myself to the group as a whole, and then to four people individually. By the fifth time I said, “Hi, I’m Syche,” even I was thinking, Well, that is just ridiculous. Then there was the inevitable spelling it out – I think people think it will clarify things, but it just muddles them more. That same night I went out with some friends for dinner, and when they asked for a name, I said Drew. Without skipping a beat the hostess said, “You don’t look like a Drew.” Not the first time I’ve heard that. I guess it is true that you embody your name, and some people just couldn’t be anything but what they’re named. What does that say about me? I’m easily misunderstood, and possibly always trying just a little too hard?
You can change your name but I don’t think I would ever want to. It would be too weird to have to figure out what name I do embody, at this late point in my life. And I guess in a sick, Stockholm Syndrome-type of way, I’m proud of my name, and that I’m not just another Jessica in a sea of Jessicas.
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