I like to know a person's name and if they've ever gone by any other names. I want to know who they are named for or if the name has a family history. I want to know the names of their parents, siblings, and pets. I often ask people if they like their name. And, my favorite name topic is to talk to people who are pregnant about what they might name their children.
When I was in college I did a project where I gave people personality tests and had their scores matched blindly with their names. Then I sorted the names by score and found (as I had predicted) that people with the same name scored similarly in particular areas of personality. All "Jennifer" had similar personality traits and they were slightly different from people named "Jenny" and more different than people named "Amy" and very different from people named "Uniqua."
Because I'm always looking for the matches, I've noticed that people often date and have relationships with people of the same name. A friend dated four "Michael" in a row. And all the relationships ended because of the same reason. Next she dated a "Dan" and was much happier.
People often have friends with the same name. Most of my friends have other friends also named Jennifer. Once I met someone who said, "I've always had a lot of friends named Jennifer, but we never really seem to keep in touch." I didn't even bother with getting to know her.
When it came time to name my children, I was overwhelmed. As someone who puts a great deal of stock in the value of a name, I wanted to get this one right. More than right. I wanted to get it perfect. I had to have a name that presented the person I wanted to raise. The name would hold all my hopes and fears for this child. Her name would be the presentation of her existence when she met new people. And, her name would be her label.
Early on I knew that her middle name would be Elizabeth, but her first name gave me a lot of trouble. It wasn't until a few weeks before she was born that I realized her name was Rachel. I was watching Brady Bunch re-runs at home. Sitting on the floor. Petting the cat. Suddenly I felt a wave of emotion go over me and when it was gone, I knew her name was Rachel.
I called my husband at work and said that I wanted to name the baby "Rachel Elizabeth." Given my obsession with names we'd had 79,384,729,574 discussions about names and he thought this was another one. He started offering opinions and comments, but I didn't really listen. My mind was made up. We didn't tell anyone else her name until she was born. When the calls went out we said, "Rachel Elizabeth was born today." And that was the first time anyone heard her name. It was perfect. (Score one point for me!)
By age two, Rachel hated her name. She had a great vocabulary and did a wonderful job of expressing herself. She felt strongly that she had the wrong name. She asked to be called a lot of different things: Jake, Bow, Ariel, Puppy.
One day we were discussing her dissatisfaction with her name. As part of the conversation I introduced the idea that she was named after her great-great-grandmother, Rebecca. Now, I've already explained how I chose Rachel's name, but there's a tradition in Judaism that children are named for dead relatives. Usually by using the first letter of the person's name as the first letter for the new baby's name. In this case, by great grandmother's name was Rebecca and so the R would work well for Rachel. After I chose the name Rachel, I took a look around to find who she could be named for and Rebecca occurred to me pretty quickly. By all accounts, Rebecca was strong, proud, independent, and a good person. She died young and my grandmother was only 13-years-old when her mother died. Rachel, always interested in a good story, was now interested in her name. She talked to those who knew Rebecca and gathered information to see how she was alike and different. Obviously, at age two, this was pretty limited, but Rachel has appreciated learning more about Rebecca as time has gone by.
When I knew I was pregnant with my second child, I jumped in to finding another perfect name. This time it was the first name that came easily, Kate. I had known two other little girls named Kate and they were fresh and bright and happy children. The name struck me as not having space for anything less than that in a person. I decided that the official name would be Katherine and we would call her Kate. Kate is cute and fun and can be just right for a child or adult, but on a wedding invitation or after a title like Judge, I think a person needs a formal name, like Katherine.
Now began my quest for the perfect middle name. I like everything in my life to be sorted into groups and categories and for things to match. I like everything to be symmetrical and neat and organized. I'm only successful at all of this about 50% of the time, but it's what I strive for always.
In this case, I began a numbers game. I felt that Rachel Elizabeth and Katherine should have the same number of letters in their name. Since Rachel Elizabeth totals 15 letters and Katherine is 9, I needed a middle name that was 6 letters. I went to one of those name sites on the web and started looking through girls names. Fate was with me. On the second page I saw Elizabeth and next to it a list of names derived from Elizabeth. Among them, 6 letter Isabel. Perfect.
When Kate was only a few months old, I had her in a stroller picking Rachel up from school. Another mom came over to see the baby and I said her name was Katherine Isabel. She knew Rachel and asked Rachel's middle name. After hearing it she said, "Rachel Elizabeth and Katherine Isabel. Very Shakespearean. Names to write about." (Score a second point for me!)
After Katherine Isabel was born, I took to calling her "Katie Bell" on occasion. Because my natural tendency is to make all things match, I stared calling Rachel Elizabeth, "Rachel Beth." Both girls now like their names and their nick names and I feel I can breath a sigh or relief at a job well done. (That's the third point. Game won!)
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