I once went to a stylist that was so rough, my scalp ached every time I left her salon. Not Chloe! She has the most gentle touch that it almost instantly reduces my blood pressure by several points. She's sweet and young, does a good job and best of all, doesn't charge much. Plus, I like her and want to support her in this new career! Her name is actually Amanda but she hated it and one day, she decided to change it.
"It's so common and not me at all. Plus, everyone called me Manda Panda," she said.
This made no sense to me, the part about the panda I mean. Because Chloe is petite and slim with long, reddish hair and icy blue eyes. She has tattoos and face piercings and in no way resembles a panda. She's never been fat or dual-colored. It was an unfortunate rhyme that made her self conscious. She told me when she was in junior high she refused to wear black or white because she was afraid it would give her tormentors more ammo. Kids can be so cruel with their name calling. "Amanda" tolerated it until she was 18. Then she shed her former panda self and became "Chloe".
She hasn't legally changed her name...yet.
It's interesting how much a name can affect our identity.
Chloe felt that she didn't fit her name and she longed to be called something different. I can relate to that. I didn't like my name when I was a kid either. In fact, I changed my first name too.
Later, when I got married, I eagerly undressed of my maiden name and clothed myself with my husband's. I was a new person and I had a fresh start. I was so happy when I got my new driver's license and social security card with a brand new moniker on it.
I loved that I was no longer called by my biological father's name. Having his name meant there was an association between us but because he chose to stay out of my life, there wasn't. It made me feel like an imposter, confused about my identity. My step-father once offered to adopt me and give my his last name but that didn't feel right either.
After I was married, I knew who I was and where I belonged. It fit perfectly. Every once in a while I will run across something with my old name on it and I hardly recognize it as me. It's like keeping an old piece of clothing that you wore years ago and when you pull it out of the closet you say, "how did that ever fit me?" I don't want to ever change my name again.
I have worn lots of names in my life but nothing has ever fit quite as nicely as wife, mother.
Do you feel like your name fits you perfectly? Have you ever wanted to change your name?