What's in a name?

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 "Débora" version).

I grew up with the story of my sister who, when anyone asked my name, would immediately let out in a single breath "DeborahwithanH". At 4 years old, she was probably both bored with, and curious about, the hassle. Not that people cared overly much. It seems once people see "female" connected to a "D", every possibility is acceptable. I've been called Diana, Dorothea, Dolores... I would look around, then be confirmed in my suspicions when they added the surname. Ah, yes, that was me.

Also, I was often the butt of the joke at school, since Deborah sounds very similar to the Spanish "devora" (she/he/it devours). Being taller than most classmates, it was an easy jab. I rarely reacted to it, but it stung nonetheless. Why would they laugh at my name?

I was named after Deborah, the judge, the prophet, the leader. I was named after a woman ahead of her time, a leader who had the responsibility to pass judgement while conveying the Divine. A woman who, when challenged, rose to the challenge. That is the woman my parents saw in me. My mum, in addition, loved Deborah Kerr's grace, her mold-breaking, her presence. Why would anyone laugh?

But I understand now. Because I feel the weight of the name on my life. I understand people try to reject that which they consider preposterous or intentionally prepossessing. A name to live up to makes people feel uncomfortable, as though it were trying to shine a light onto the darkness of their insecurities. However, I know I will go on trying to be a good representative of the qualities of my predecessor.

My name is my aspiration of the woman I want to be. 

What's in your name?