No one knows this about me
Or rather, no one seems to know this about me, but I actually have no idea where my name originates from or what my parents were thinking when they named me, contrary to your unreasonable assumptions that I do. I should probably mention that I do like my name and the uniqueness of it, just not the ignorant questions and judgments that come with it.
Anyone blessed (or cursed) with an unusual name understands the struggles that come with meeting new people and introducing yourself. If you are like me, it is something you have experienced ever since you can remember. These encounters usually follow a recurring structure that results in one of three ways: either the uniqueness of your name is overlooked and no comment is made about it (sigh of relief), you are complimented on the originality of your name (old but we’ll take it), or, worst of all, you suddenly become the subject of an interview in which you are required to answer multiple questions about the origins of your weird name. This interview process often entails questions and comments such as:
So where does your name come from?
Now this question is slightly more acceptable than the ones to follow. Many people have names taken from other countries or names influenced by popular culture and so forth. However, does ‘Bexlee’ really sound all that exotic?
Oh, I’ve been to/am from Bexley! Are you named after the place?
Seriously? No, my parents did not name me after a South East London borough. Therefore, why people insist on spelling my name in this way is beyond me. Give my parents some credit.
So, is that your first name?
For goodness sake. No, I am not some James Bond enthusiast that insists on introducing myself by my surname first. What really grinds my gears is when people take it upon themselves to decide the order of my names. Bexlee Andrew? No, must be Andrew Bexlee, I’ll write that down instead.
Really? That’s your name?
Yes, really, I have been asked this. The ultimate ignorant question in the library of seemingly every-increasing ignorant questions that could possibly be asked. Honestly, I’m not lying, that is indeed my name. Please take my word for it. You know, seeing as I it is my name and everything.
Possibly the worst place for it, university has produced many of these encounters during my three years of study. Often my name serves as a good talking point and an ice breaker in conversation with strangers, so long as I am not barraged with ignorant questions. What I don’t have time for, however, is the boring few that believe in a strict set of names that cannot be strayed from. This is something I will never understand. Sure, name your kid James, but don’t question names less common.
Yes it is strange that I can’t give a specific reason for why I’m named what I am, but does that really matter? The only real explanation I’ve managed to get from my parents is that ‘it sounded nice’. So please, stop questioning my knowledge of my own name and just deal with the fact that its uncommon.
To all unusually named people out there, I sympathise with you, I feel your pain. Try your best to bite your lip and ignore the ignorance, and most importantly, don’t let these encounters stop you from loving your unique name.
