It’s taken a long time for me to come to terms with my name.
When I was younger, I remember wishing I had a different one. At the time, my first choice was to be a Rose. What could be more beautiful than literally being named after a flower? Or maybe the real explanation for this was the then-popularity of the movie “Titanic.” My mom had gotten a copy of it at our local supermarket for buying a qualifying Thanksgiving turkey, a gift-with-purchase I still to this day don’t really understand. However, it was that turkey that made me dream of having the name Rose. If I were to have this name, then maybe I too would one day look like Kate Winslet and ask to be drawn like a French girl.
The second choice was Crystal, which honestly, thank God never happened. No offense to the Crystals out there, but I just don’t think it suits me. Now that I’m remembering a lot of these desired names, they were mainly inspired by girls I found to be cool or pretty. Much like how I remember my mom always recalling how I was almost named Kaitlyn. For a long time, I resented that she didn’t, mainly because the cool girl in my grade was also named Kaitlyn. When you’re 10, you think names are vital to your existence, almost as if they can determine your level of popularity. Never mind the glasses or weird low ponytail I wore, it was my name that was to blame for my social misfortunes.
My actual name, the one given to me on my official birth certificate, is Jeanette. (If you say it with my last name — you’d assume my parents wanted to give me a “French-ass name.”) It’s not a completely unusual name, I know. I’m probably not the first Jeanette you’ve ever heard of. You are most likely also aware of the famous one, Jeannette Rankin, the first female to ever be elected for congress. However, as you can tell from its historical milestone, the name is also outdated for the millennial generation.
After introducing myself, I often receive the response, “Oh my grandmother’s name is Jeanette.” For whatever reason, millennials just aren’t down with the name Jeanette. It could be because it’s eight letters, which is a big sacrifice when you’re tweeting.
I can’t complain entirely about it. In a way, I have learned to cope. One thing about having a less common name is that you begin to accept the other names people will call you. When I say my name on the phone, it’s often returned with a “Hi Janelle, nice to speak to you.” Gurl, what? I said Jah-net. At this point, it’s not even a battle worth fighting. The person on the line is going to forget the name all-together in five seconds. Once again, because Jeanette just isn’t normal enough to be remembered.
I don’t even want to talk about giving my name at Starbucks, but throughout my life I’ve attempted to adapt nicknames to ease situations like this. I figured hey, why not give Jennie a try? It worked for a bit until I realized that I would have to fight the real Jennies. The ones who have claimed it as their identity because their parents blessed them with the nickname as a real name. It wasn’t until middle school that I decided I had outgrown Jennie. It was clear that I was going to have to rebrand. Jennie was young and naïve and thought Ashlee Simpson was punk rock music. That’s when the nickname Jen began. Jen listened to MCR, had studded belts and dreamt of boys with snake bites.
Later on, at some point (early adulthood) I realized I can only be Jeanette, that it suits me and I was given this name for a reason. Aside from all the trouble it’s brought, being Jeanette has also been a pretty good perk. I never had to share my name with someone else around me. In fact when I hear of another person named Jeanette, I almost feel personally attacked, as if someone stole my Instagram handle. I never had to add the first initial of my last name for a teacher to distinguish me from someone else. Except for that one bizarre time in college when there was another girl was also named Jeanette, but thankfully she dropped the class because she knew it wasn’t big enough for the two of us.
As I grow and learn to accept the name I have been given, I’ve learned to accept other nicknames. (Maybe you now only know me as Caj). Not as a means to assimilate to the common names around me, but as an extension of my personal brand.
So please. If you ever feel inclined to quote me, please use my full name: Jeanette “Caj” Fabre.
