I held a grudge against my parents for giving me a name that is so short. While my siblings have unique and longer names, I have a two-syllable moniker. I often asked them the reason for their not being ingenious or even creative while thinking of my imprint. My birth certificate said it all; my parents were not even ready thus I was listed as baby girl. It took a few days before they “found” my name to put on the paper. While I wished for a longer name, I did not like much my last name. No one can blame me since I have a bunch of reasons while growing up. First, when the class was arranged alphabetically I was always among those at the far end of the line. Graduation rites were a bummer since the announcer would be tired already thus my name would sound more like a mumble. Second, I was always asked which region I came from since my name is not common. I have to dissect the facts from my mom hailing from Manila to my dad from Pangasinan. After all my explaining, all I get is a quizzed look. My agony does not end there since it would be subsequently followed by “Really? But your mom is Chinese, right?” Courtesy would force me to explain the facts regarding my mom’s ancestry. Third, many teachers would mispronounce my last name with so much emphasis on the r sound that it sounded like a razor. Situations like this were embarrassing and I have to correct them each time.
It was in college when I learned the value of a signature. I experimented with strokes and loops to make my name stand out but I always end up using my regular handwriting. My insecurity was compounded since my best friend; Jason has this unique artist’s signature. He proudly affixes it on his paintings. I wrote poems but who would even bother to look at my signature. I also proclaim my dad’s signature as very unique. It looks like a rollercoaster in Europe with its flair and sophistication. Another thing that bugged me was that I have similar signatures with my siblings. So much for originality but throughout time, I have learned that my name is not all that bad. I was not named Boots or after a fruit like Strawberry. Little by little I learned to love my first name. My signature did not bother me anymore since I got used to it like a second skin. My name is a crucial part of me.
I barely have three days to go before I change my last name. Somehow, I feel I am letting go of something that I had for the longest time and now, I will possess another’s. I am happy with my decision. I am certain that no matter how I am called, I would always be the same person. I see my changing names as another journey, an adventure for the thrill- seekers like me.
Presently, I am experimenting on my new signature. I am still attempting to put loops and tails but I keep forgetting them the next time. However, I am still hopeful that my signature would one day be a special imprint on a book, short film or even a company =D
