A rose by any other name

"What's in a name? that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet"

Translation: What matters is what something is, not what it is called.

I was cursed with an English name I hate. I can't remember a time in my life that I didn't hate my name. I've changed it slowly over time; first changing my middle name to the name I prefer. Then marrying and changing my last name (let's be honest, I've changed my last name several times using this method.) Now I want to drop the hated first name and go by the preferred name. Result: Mama is mad at me.

It really doesn't take much to make my mother mad at me. It's a simple fact of life - Mama will be angry with me more times than she's pleased. But now I am committing the unpardonable sin - wanting to change the name she gave me.

I tried explaining how I felt about my name. She even agreed that the name I prefer is pretty. However, she gave me my name and my rejecting it translates to my rejection of her. My Auntie even tried explaining how my mother and father pondered long over what name to give me and then bequeathed me with the name that they liked best. Apparently, my liking the name doesn't enter into the equation.

So now I'm on Mama's black list. Again.

Shakespeare doesn't exist in my mother's universe.

At times like this I feel like an alien in my own family.