011: Is your name really just your brand? Living up to the name you were given.
May 10, 2024
I went to a baby naming. What the hell is that you say? It’s a Jewish tradition. A relatively recent Jewish tradition for girls. When boys get circumcised, 8 days after they’re born, they get their Hebrew name which connects them to their Jewish identity. Girls aren’t circumcised (of course) but more recently, like in the last 50 or 60 years, I think, girls have a Hebrew naming ceremony. We went to this naming…It was lovely. And at a bar! Even better!
I find this tradition beautiful and meaningful because for the better part of my life I fucking hated my name! Now that I’ve lived for a thousand years, I think it’s grown on me, or I’ve grown into redefining it but I always felt like the only “Carole” people knew were someone’s 80 year old Aunt and maybe the twin sister of Claire. It felt very bland to me. I don’t really consider myself a bland person. When I was younger, I was worried I was bland. And bland in New York does not bode well!
At his stage in life, I don’t think anybody’s bland per say. Everybody’s got something. And if somebody were to say that to me, that they felt like they were bland or their name was bland, I would sit there and point out all the reasons why they weren’t, because I definitely talk to others far more kindly, than I talk to myself. Nonetheless that’s sort of how I I felt about my name.
I wanted to be exotic and mysterious and interesting and have an “a” at the end! A precious vowel like Gabriella, Andrea or Sophia did…Carole could not be more consonant heavy. The “e” at the end gives a little spin in writing but otherwise, to me, the last sound “L” in Carole stood for LOOSER. Sigh.
When I started thinking about what I wanted to name my daughter, as a single mom I didn’t have to negotiate with anybody. My choice entirely. Score 1 for the single mom. I feel like I did right by her with her name, I’m sure at some point she will be talking to a therapist about how I messed that up for her, but hopefully she’ll eventually be happy. And that her name, amongst many other things gives her confidence.
That’s one of the more important themes for me as a parent. I want to make sure she’s a confident kid, so she’ll be a confident adult.
I didn’t feel confident I guess, and I don’t think that my name helped. I Don’t necessarily think it harmed it, but it didn’t make me feel better.
Now that I’m older I can see how it aligns. In my mind, “Carole” may have been bland but she’s also sturdy, strong, steady, could see your side of things, and is someone you can count on.
Truth, you can count on me. You always have been able to count on me. I’m not a wild person. I’ve had some wild experiences but ultimately, fundamentally, I’m not like a wild person. I take risks. I love calculated risks. Change. I love trying new things. I find it invigorating but I also like traditions. I’m not living a “traditional life” in many, many ways but in many ways I am.
And I like that my friends call me to find reason. I have a very good friend, who was wild. Super smart, savvy, successful, and a wild child, inherently. But also, inherently confident and balls out, ready to take charge and have an experience. And I was her steady friend. With a steady perspective. I offered even keeled insight. And when she needed some grounding. I’m certain I was the first person she would call. And I was happy to be that to her, and to many others, but none of this connotates, young and interesting. Not to me at least.
She had divorce party. Have you been to one of those? When done right they’re pretty cool and not as depressing as they sound. During a time when you’re sad regardless of who requested the split, you surround yourself with your girlfriends and gain power and love from being side by side with people who love you and are saying they will be there for your throughout your hard time.
There were a lot of amazing women there too. I was proud to be on the guest list.
As most of us do, she had friends from many different areas and times of her life. And she maintained them well. Some of us knew each other but a lot of us just knew of each other.
At some point, as we were all leaving, I got to chat with a woman who’s name I hadn’t gotten, we were going in the same direction and decided to share a cab. Finally, I asked her name, and yes, I knew who she was, I told her mine and hers eyes got wide. “You’re Carole! I thought you were much older!” It was quite the blurt. And to this day, I’m certain it was because of my name. She looked me up and down. Not in a shitty way but clearly trying to adjust her reference. I found it funny, really. It was the early aught’s and I was in bellbottoms and a DVF wrap dress, dangly earrings and I felt good. (A dress and jeans were chic at the time. You can Google it!) I’m sure in her mind, Carole wasn’t fashionable either. We laughed. Eventually the car came, we went home, never saw each other again.
The experience stayed with me.
When we’re given our name, do we live up to the idea of what other’s think the name conjures? Or do we, in real time, live in a way, so when our name is uttered, it conjures us. A person, complex as we all are, not a stereotype. And never just one thing.
I’ve come to learn, it’s the latter.
Listen to this week’s episode to find out why…
