Ask the Priestess

When I was growing up, my name was a bane in my life. Still, I have never wanted a different one. When I read Romeo and Juliet wishing to ignore their names, I could not grasp it. Our names are very important, I believe. Even naming our pets requires a special connection, so how can naming our offspring not matter? Every quirk in our names opens a window into the lives and values of our family, our heritage, the expectations for our future. My name, Deborah, was a difficult one to carry as a child.  To begin with, the registrar decided it was "improper" since it was the name of a woman who went to war. He then proceeded to fill in my birth certificate with a name of his own choosing (Concepción, in case you're wondering). This was towards the end of the ultra-Christian Opus Dei -led Franco dictatorship, thus many may have given in. Not my parents, though, who went to court to have my name legally changed to Deborah, with that specific spelling (instead of the Spanish ...

There are many things one can do in life.  I teach languages; I have worked in offices; I've worked in shops; heck, I've even worked as a diamond grader! These are all great ways to earn a living. But I also have a "side gig" which brings me great joy. I'm a pet sitter.  It started as a favour. Someone with whom I'd worked together briefly asked me whether I'd be interested in looking after her friend's cat. It used to be her and her wife who did it, but they'd since had a child and could not help out. So I agreed. I got to spend a couple of weeks in a beautiful flat in old Amsterdam and look after a sweet older tabby boy, Primo (how very on the nose, that name).  Then, there was another favour, for another coworker's (from a different workplace) friend and her doggy. Then, it was my landlady's fish. Then, it was a colleague and their two cats. And then, it changed: Primo's mama was asked for a recommendation by her hairdresser, whose c...

I don't have children. I only ever desired them for a short few months, some time after moving to the UK. It was a sudden and surprising desire, but I assumed it was the proverbial "biological clock ticking" though it was not loud enough to change my lifestyle. Soon after, I read somewhere (I have lost the source, I'm sorry. I'll attach a link to a related study here ) that there is a suspected link between loneliness and wanting children. Children are perceived as gifts, as constant company, and knowing we have a being fully dependent on us makes us feel worthy. This makes perfect sense to me, and it explains why the craving was so short-lived as well as easily set aside: I simply didn't need them to boost my self-worth any more than I needed constant company. The thought came back a couple of times afterwards, either as a result of witnessing friends have their own offspring, or as symbols for a wish to create an impact. The weight of social belonging, where...