I find it hard to complain about my name, but that didn't stop me from trying. As soon as someone could get me to say it, I would be reassured, "oh, that's a nice name," which would then be my cue to explain. I would admit, Kimberly Rose Sangwin isn't an ugly name, but for a long time, I felt disappointed by it. While I couldn't complain that it's too common, I have had the sneaking suspicion that it's popularity ran out a while ago (oh, woe is me).
At this point, I could continue on about how both "Kimberly" and "Rose" are old-lady names but I never could captivate an audience by just complaining. Instead, I learned to bring up solutions: nicknames. Officially, I jumped from "Kimberly" to "Kimmie" to "Kim" but ran out of stepping stones in high school (the whole "Kimby" thing didn't quite work out). Not satisfied with twisting my original name, I encouraged others to name me and I've been honored with "Kiwi", "Bubbles", "Autumn", "Captain", and "Chelsee". This was usually fun and welcome, but despite going through as many nicknames as I did "fashion styles" in high school, I've had about the same success with them: nothing really stuck, but I like to think I made progress. Eventually, I thought I would change my name for good.
The best way I can think to describe what happened next is... an eventual epiphany.
I realized that despite any of the meanings my name has or associations made with it, it's really only a word that was given to me at birth. That's not to say that I'm viewing it as unimportant, but rather, previously undefined. I don't look at it as some symbol that I'm supposed to fulfill, but a word whose definition is "me".
If it felt stale before, that's only because I thought it was, whereas now, I feel no need to create something new, when I can reinvent what I've already been given.
"Kim" is still too short though; my friends call me Kimmy.
At this point, I could continue on about how both "Kimberly" and "Rose" are old-lady names but I never could captivate an audience by just complaining. Instead, I learned to bring up solutions: nicknames. Officially, I jumped from "Kimberly" to "Kimmie" to "Kim" but ran out of stepping stones in high school (the whole "Kimby" thing didn't quite work out). Not satisfied with twisting my original name, I encouraged others to name me and I've been honored with "Kiwi", "Bubbles", "Autumn", "Captain", and "Chelsee". This was usually fun and welcome, but despite going through as many nicknames as I did "fashion styles" in high school, I've had about the same success with them: nothing really stuck, but I like to think I made progress. Eventually, I thought I would change my name for good.
The best way I can think to describe what happened next is... an eventual epiphany.
I realized that despite any of the meanings my name has or associations made with it, it's really only a word that was given to me at birth. That's not to say that I'm viewing it as unimportant, but rather, previously undefined. I don't look at it as some symbol that I'm supposed to fulfill, but a word whose definition is "me".
If it felt stale before, that's only because I thought it was, whereas now, I feel no need to create something new, when I can reinvent what I've already been given.
"Kim" is still too short though; my friends call me Kimmy.
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