I was thinking it might be fun to list the issues we’ve had with our own names. So many times when I’m working on a post, I’m thinking, “Hmm…a potential issue with this name has occurred to me—but will it actually BE an issue?” When I named my own babies, I worried about many issues that never turned out to be issues; and I neglected to worry about things that DID turn out to be issues. But even the things that turned out to be issues didn’t turn out to be big deals.
And that’s a point I’ve made here before: that just because something’s an issue doesn’t mean it’s a deal-breaker. EVERY name comes with its own set of issues, potential issues, and non-issues. The quest isn’t to find a completely issue-free name, because those don’t exist; the quest is to find a set of issues you and the child can live with. I think a list of the issues we’ve had with our names will first create a panicked feeling (“EVERY NAME IS IMPOSSIBLE!!”) that will then lead to a soothing calm (“If EVERY name has issues, that means we can focus more on what names we LIKE”).
So! I’ll go first. My name is Kristen, and here are the potential issues and whether or not they’ve been a big deal:
1. It belongs to a cluster of similar names: Kristine, Christina, Crystal, Krista, Kiersten, Kirsten, Chrissy, Kristy. This can lead to name confusion/mistakes. This is an ongoing minor issue that hasn’t turned out to be a big deal. I do dislike being called Kristine, because to me it’s so different than Kristen. But I get the confusion and I don’t get upset about it. One teacher in high school called me Kiersten all year long, and it was at most a minor annoyance.
2. That particular group of names is quite time-stamped. Non-issue. Lots of parents want to avoid names that belong to a particular time period, but I like that when someone hears my name they can be pretty confident I’m parent-aged, not child-aged or grandparent-aged. Probably none of us want to have/use a one-year wonder, but almost all the other names just DO belong to a particular generation.
3. There are a lot of ways to spell it. If I’m telling someone my name and they have to write it down, I always say it “K-r-i-s-t-E-n.” It gets misspelled sometimes anyway. My own GRANDMOTHER sometimes spelled it Kristin. This is an ongoing but very minor issue—minor enough that I gave three of my five children names that always have to be spelled. And I find it gives me an increased enthusiasm for my own spelling: when someone gets it right, I get a little rush of happiness.
4. I don’t like the nicknames Kris, Krissy, or Kristy. Non-issue. Even growing up at a time when my peers faced an uphill battle if they wanted to be called Rebecca and Nicole instead of Becky and Nicki, people didn’t often try to nickname me. One set of grandparents called me Kris, and so a few other relatives on that side of the family call me Kris, too, and for me that falls into a different category than if co-workers or friends tried to call me Kris: I LIKE having a special family-only nickname. One teacher in high school was notorious for nicknaming, and he called me Kris, too. Nobody tried to use Krissy or Kristy, except for the school year I chose to go by Kristy because there were two Kristens in my class. (Part of my willingness was adoration-based: my beloved teacher’s daughter was named Kristy.)
5. It’s pretty common: if we combine the spellings Kristin and Kristen, it’s a name given to more than half a percent of baby girls that year—the equivalent of a Top 10 name today. Non-issue. In all my single-classroom years (kindergarten through grade 8), there was only one year of two Kristens in the class. Even in high school, where I was in six or seven classrooms a day, I don’t remember repeats. Occasionally there would be a Crystal or a Christina, but those didn’t feel like the same name at all. I like having a name people are familiar with, though I will say I’m grateful not to be a Jennifer: for every Kristin/Kristen born at that time, there were about seven Jennifers (making it about four times as common as today’s #1 name). Interestingly, one of my parents’ concerns with the name was that it might be too unusual: my grandparents, for example, had never heard of it and thought it was a little weird.
Your turn now, if you like. Is your name common/uncommon? Time-stamped, either to your own generation or to the “wrong” generation? Hard to spell/pronounce? Easily confused with other names? Is it the kind of name where people say, “Oh, like ___?,” or automatically make the same joke/reference? Does it rhyme with or sound like something awkward? Were you teased about it as a child? Is it a good/poor fit with your personality? Do you have to fight off a nickname you don’t like? Is it the same name as another family member’s? What are some of the things someone could have wondered about at the time of naming, and have those turned out to be issues or not?
If you keep your real first name separate from your online identity, you can comment anonymously so you can tell us the name without connecting it to your online self. Or you could just list the issues without telling the name, but that will drive us all wild with curiosity—and, experience suggests, also lead to Guessing Games.