Theses are my thoughts and ramblings as I forge my way through this thing they call life. |
Blog City - DAY 2168 May 8, 2021 There's dialogue and there's monologues. Dialogue is conversation between people whereas monologues tend to be one person speaking similar to a speech or a rant. Let's take this opportunity to discuss your name. What makes it unique? Is it a family name? Is there a story behind? Have fun, be engaging. A name, you say. Talk about your name. Why it's unique. Unique. Not so much. It's a name I had to grow into, though not as much as someone growing into Gertrude or Griselda. Gertrude was my grandmother's name. I escaped that... thank God. Griselda.... well, that was a name I got called by teens with self esteem that needed a boost and a target to pin there ambitions on. Being an only child, I was an easy target. Carolyn. I liked the -lyn part of my name. The Carol part, I am not so crazy about, but I can live with it when it is said as a whole. When anyone calls me Carol, it's like nails on a chalkboard. I was supposed to be born closer to Christmas. If I was a girl - I would be Carolyn. If I was a boy - I'd be Noel. Noelle is pretty, but probably sounded too French and my mother was not a fan of French Canadians and their attitude - it was the late sixties and Quebec Separatism was in full swing. Funny, how later, one of her best friends was French Canadian - and a really cool lady - she had hot pink leather pants! But that is so off topic... we are talking about how I got my name. My middle name is Bobbi. I love it, but tend not to use it because the name has connotations of a blond bimbo - or at least the outer surface of blond bimbo - with a smart, badass under that surface that guys have no clue about or want to know. The name is after my Dad. He was Robert, but he was called Bobby. His dad was Robert. A namesake... a family honour and since he has died - when I was 12 - I feel the name connects me to him in a way that transcends boundaries. I was a Daddy's girl. I never got to meet my Grandfather. He died before I was born and I was the first grandchild. My last name is the one that confounds me.... When I got married, my ex would not ask me to marry him unless I changed my last name. I took comfort in my middle name as that connection to my family when I finally decided to take his name. We were married for 16 years after being together for almost 8 years before that.... now I feel caught between the past and my future. As a teacher I use my married name - it is who I was when I got my teaching certificate. Not having a contract teaching position holds me to that name as people who know me, know me by that name. If I ever get into my own teaching position, I will change my name back. But in my writing, I hold to my name of origin. It is the one that holds my beginnings and I refused to give it away. That is who I am. Who I will always be. The name of Carly is my own choice. When I was a teen, a cool girl I worked with, called me that instead of Carolyn and I liked the sound of it. I also liked the creative nature of the name and the sense of freedom that came with it. I adopted it as a way of pursing my dreams.... a kind of fearless personae.... or something like that. So that's my name story. I look forward to reading yours. |