Bev, I think most people will in fact grow into their names, because they do become such a major part of self-definition. Your mileage may and likely will vary on this one.

(deep breath)

My middle name - one of two, mind you - was Jheahinnè. (Except that the accent was an acute). Pronounced "ZHA-hann-ay", long A on the first syllable, a la "hay". Fucking stupidest name ever - came out of nowhere, means nothing, not real. Apprently? Designed to humiliate a small child by watching teachers desperately trying to pronounce it or spell it. Plus, ME having to struggle with correcting everyone and writing it out. Sod that.

It is legally history. I changed it to Jeanne, and lost the second middle name - Darius, for fuck's sake, and who in sweet hell names a little girl Darius? - in the process.

edit: ita, I make your first and last names together out to be eleven letters - exactly one letter more than just the stupid middle name they saddled my ass with. What am I missing?

What am I missing?

I'm not sure. I'm only saying that Anfernee's not that bad, not talking about your name woes.

I'm still chewing on the concept that something in the name "Susan" triggered mob meanness in her classmates. Because usually, there's something that can be made mean - a line from Ruth Rendell's "A Demon in my View" comes to mind, in which the kids tease a future (and fatherless) serial killer in a London schoolyard, by chanting "Cowardy cowardy custard! Johnson is a bastard!" So the idea of a group of kids relentlessly hounding someone with a very common first name is doing weird things to my head.

Bear in mind I'm related to someone who goes by Wentworth Harry Hugent Sylvester Constantine George Augustus St. Elmer Mundle.

But did he have to write that entire string out a dozen times a day, at the top of every page of his schoolwork? Or did he opt for "Harry" or something? And when he was called to the chalkboard to do a math problem, did he have to write "Wentworth Harry Hugent Sylvester Constantine George Augustus St. Elmer Mundle" over everything? Because my thing is, if I know my kid is going to have to do that, I give the kid the option or a three or four-syllable name. After all, they can always decide on the full regalia later on.

I'm not sure.

I mean, the math. "ita" is three letters and your surname is eight letters. Where did the other eight letters come from - did you use a middle name, as well? And if so, were you made to do that, or did you choose to do that?

So the idea of a group of kids relentlessly hounding someone with a very common first name is doing weird things to my head.

With me, it was "Frus-ter-ated Ka-tie!" That was third grade. (I would've been hounded anyway, though, and I suspect that was ita's point - it had nothing in particular to do with my name.)

That was also the year that I bopped Brad Murray over the head with a recorder in music class, though, so I have some good memories.

I've long since been on record with my name issues, but what the hell-- they like being aired out every so often.

Now that I've had it for 18 years, I'm used to my name and wouldn't get rid of it, but as a younger kid I hated having it misspelled every possible way, not to mention the funny looks I got at Hebrew school. I think it's entirely possible that if my parents had reversed the order of my names (middle name is Michele, which is a slightly odd but perfectly acceptable variation) I would be less weird today. But I'm not going to mess with it now, because I'm too used to it. It feels like me, even though I know that if I'd gotten any other name it would feel like me too.

Holli, your name - with different spellings - was actually so popular in London when my daughter was an infant, that there were three or four babies with that name at Jo's babycare clinic. The other name that was getting a lot of play in London at that time was Carly.

I like Holli's name because it's hers, but I really don't understand what would drive someone to take the perfectly nice name Holly Michelle and decide to spell it Holli Michele. It sounds exactly the same, and thus serves no purpose beyond making the kid spell her name 18 billion times. Let alone mangling Jeanne into Jheahine.

But the seven or so spellings of Caitlin currently among the top 100 names suggest it's a need many, many parents have, so go figure.

Holli, your name - with different spellings - was actually so popular in London when my daughter was an infant, that there were three or four babies with that name at Jo's babycare clinic. The other name that was getting a lot of play in London at that time was Carly.

Really? I've only ever met one Holly IRL, and she was in kindergarten when I was in fourth grade. I've met a couple online, but other than that, nothing.

I do prefer my naem to something so common you have to check who's being talked about when it's used. I mean, I have three friends named Lauren, plus a cousin and another several classmates and acquaintances.

Let alone mangling Jeanne into Jheahine.

Nope. It's spelled J-h-e-a-h-i-n-n-è. And when I asked them why they'd named me with such a stupid spelling of Jean? I got the blank stare and the "Jheahinnè is NOT Jean" comment, and that was all.

They appeared to have saddled me with that because they liked it. Fine. Whoopie. I didn't. Darius I could understand - it was my grandmum's name. But the other, there was no excuse.

Holli, yup - very popular at the end of the seventies, at least in the UK. OTOH, Lauren seems to have been far more to the American taste than to the British taste. It varies.

One year I talked on, say, a weekly basis, with three women named Brenda. I resisted, but it got so I called them "Black Brenda, Gay Brenda, and Redhaired Brenda" Of course, if Brendas one or two got a dye job, or Brenda 3 had a big surprise for her hubby, my taxonomy was for shit. Of course, it was only for this: Roommate: Who was that on the phone? Me: Brenda. RM: Which one.. ETC.