A name is a very personal thing. I am not talking about the popular topic of what to name your baby (or not to name your baby). I am talking about those names we acquire as we grow up. Some we choose for ourselves and some others choose for us. Some follow us from childhood and never let go. Others we hang on to as though we need the help in defining ourselves.
I am sure I could go on about the colorful names our family uses to describe some of the people in our orbit. There is ‘Drinky-Drinksteen’, the partying mother of three. And ‘High Roller’, the one who frequents Vegas AND dates men who drive foreign sports cars. And the ‘Pot Smoker’, who doesn’t really get high but as a librarian, the moniker just fits.
Instead I sat down to write about the name, or label, that I really don’t like: “Mrs.” I have a friend who insists that children call her “Mrs. So-and-So” because she loves it and waited her whole life to be called that. Not sure what that says about her, but I would rather not have it said about me!
I have battled with parents for years about what their children should call me. My first name works perfectly well as it is mine. “Mrs.” was given to me to attach me to my husband at the time. I took his last name……wasn’t that enough? I kept his last name when we divorced because I had it for so long it had become mine as well. “Mrs.” never fit well then. It certainly doesn’t fit now.
When I ask your child to call me “Sue” please don’t correct me. I know what my name is, thank you very much.