The Name Game

The Name Game

Mum had a thing about names. Ever since she could remember she disliked her own name. Jean. She wished she could at least fancy it up to Jeanne - but her parents would have disapproved. She thought it was very plain and boring. Hold that thought.

When my (adopted) brother Robin turned 18 mum reminded him that his legal name was still Javinder Sighn Mann even though he was only known as Robin since he was a baby. She told him that he could now change it legally to whatever he wished.

I’m guessing my mum was rather disappointed that it took Robin all of 30 seconds to decide what name he wanted. Robin Mann. That was it. No middle name and Mann simply because it had less letters than our family name - Campbell.

Interestingly, I also disliked my name. Dislike is an understatement. I could feel myself cringe every time I had to tell someone what my name was. I was the only Lindsay on the planet. Except for Lindsay Wagner - but she was only known as Bionic Woman (TV star back in the 70’s). None of my friends knew or cared that her ‘real’ name was Lindsay Wagner. Think about it. Do you know anyone over age 50 named Lindsay? No. I am the only. The original and I despised it. I felt like some sort of freak.

When I was 12 our family moved from Port Alberni BC to Creston BC. One afternoon my mum announced that if I really hated my name that much then now would be the time to change it. I was shocked - I didn’t know this was an actual option. I would be attending a brand new school and she would register me with a new name. I was elated. I could take my pick. I chose Heather. My mum commented that it might be hard for my younger siblings to switch from Lindsay to Heather - she suggested Lin but spell it Lynne - to ‘fancy it up’. I wrote it on a piece of paper and LOVED it. It looked “pretty”. It looked “normal”. It was a regular name. I could finally feel like a regular kid.

I will never forget my first day of grade 7 in the brand new school. The teacher, Mr. Marzke, started roll call. When he called out, “Lynne Campbell?” I wanted to throw my arms in the air with a “Yes! I’m here!” and I’m smarter, prettier, happier than I’ve ever been in my whole life! I felt like I could be anybody’s friend and I felt likable. Now I know we could go down many roads with this - who knows why I abhorred my name and why it made me feel so shameful - even now, I don’t try to figure it out. Changing it to Lynne saved me. And that is all that mattered then and all that matters now.

Fast forward 4 years and I find myself heading to high school where I/m surrounded by 5 other Lynne’s. In past years, this would have been a good thing. But my season of being Lynne had instilled a confidence within and now I was ready to be a Lindsay - to be someone different than the rest of the crowd and feel ok about that. I yearned for my individuality. And so I tried. I tried to tell people my ‘real’ name and to get my friends to call me Lindsay. They couldn’t do it without making it sound forced. To this day, my siblings and high school friends only know me as Lynne.

So now we have our poor mum still stuck with Jean. I believe my mom witnessed the change that happened to me when she allowed me to change my name and decided to do the same for herself at age 60. Keep in mind that mom suggested going from Lindsay to Heather might be too extreme. However, mum had no problem expecting everyone to immediately drop Jean and begin calling her Phaedra (pronounced fay-dra). No new town, no new school - the entire Creston Valley where she was well known in the community made the switch. I remember mum answering the phone in a sing-song voice….”Phaedra speaking!”. Changing her name brought her immense joy and even our dad eventually mastered the correct pronunciation.

When we named our children, Riley, Raegan, Benjamin and Michaela, I watched for the tell-tale signs of ‘name abhorrence’. I was ready to jump in with, “Change it!” but none of our children ever expressed an interest in changing the names we chose for them. I was rather disappointed. Now I keep my eyes and ears peeled for signs that my Grandchildren might want a switch up, but they too, are confident with their names: Bergen, Park, Cooper, Porsha, Riggs, Wynter, Jack and Rope. Yes. Rope. Beautiful names. Beautiful children. Of course.