I heard today that a friend of a friend has decided to change her christian name after 47 years good use of the old one. This news has disturbed me. Yes, I can understand lusting after another name because I would have loved to have been called Ursula. Had I been blessed with that name I would have been a better person because I would have tried daily to live up to it’s inherent beauty and intelligence. My name, Anna May, has a Benny Hill connotation that I try to live down. My husband loves saying in a deep southern drawl, “Anna May, you pregnant again ?” An Ursula would get none of that.
I know a girl called Sue who longs to be called Persephone. We can all dream. Going back to Ursula, she is a six foot redhead with long legs that she could plait and unplait without ever getting pins and needles.
BUT – to actually do it and declare you want to be known by another name as you hurtle towards 50 ???? This friend of a friend who has done just that started with her partner. He readily agreed to call her by a new name, but then men would do most anything to keep the conjugal channels clear won’t they ?
Her oldest friend has resisted adopting the name change. She’s losing memory cells as it is and finding it difficult to recall old names without the added burden of learning new ones for old friends. The pair have struck a deal which is a temporary truce - that her friend can call her whatever name she likes – but in my opinion that’s a name pot luck and not a name change. Apparently any name will do as long as it’s not the old one. Her family, her work colleagues and her stitch and bitch (sewing group) are all bewildered but giving it their all and trying to adopt the change.
Who is this person ? I don’t believe she knows the answer to that at the moment but even if she did, I couldn’t name names, could I ?