What’s in a name? – maybe alot

Often when an older child is placed for adoption, they are given the option of selecting a new first name. Many cultures and faiths give you a new name when you commit to live a new life. This is not odd and it is something that has supported many a high school student as they transitioned from high school to college or college to the work place. Artys became Arthurs and Patty’s became Patricas. Nicknames give way to more formal birthnames. When I left high school i consciously left behind the rapid fire feel of Debbie Guy for a more, so I thought, elegant sounding Deborah. Debbie was a kid’s name. Deborah (Deb-or-ah) was heroic and lyrical.

Once married i simply tacked on my husband’s name of Skriloff (1st syllable rhymes with drill) and carried on, I was really a grown up now! Then recently something happened, I introduced myself as Deborah Guy Skriloff and someone quickly, brutally and perhaps accurately pointed out that by the time I’d gotten my last name out they’ve forgotten my first and that my name was too difficult to be good for business. (And this from a guy named Detleif who goes by the name Ted). When I relayed this to a friend over dinner (by coincidence another Deborah (pronounced Deb-ra) )she pointed out that she loved the ‘zip’ of ‘Debbie Guy’ and thought I should go back to it  because it suited me and was much easier to pronounce and remember (“good for business!” she opined).

What’s this got to do with being fearless? For me. Everything. The name Debbie is associated with alot of unpleasent memories in my life and becomming Deborah as I entered College was my way of saying “We start fresh here” and that move really supported me. (okay…Moving 3000 miles away didn’t hurt either).

I purposely put a wall up between the two eras and chose to live on the side where i was known as Deborah. If someone asked “can I call you Debbie” I would get a pang in my gut, stare them down and state “No, ‘it’s Deborah’”. As I got older, my staring them down mellowed into a pleasant, experienced, and understanding smile, but it was still “Deborah”.

In Fearless Living terminilogy, many of us have our ‘trigger’. for me. often it is being seen as ordinary, and in my mind ‘Debbie Guy’ was ordinary and kinda corny. If I was Deborah, I was in control of my own destiny, If I was Debbie, I was 8 years old again, named after a snack cake, at the mercy of others and somehow ‘less than’. Triggers can make you think of things in the most irrational of ways.

When Detlief, know as Ted, and then Deborah pronounced Deb-ra, suggested I use Debbie Guy professionally, I thought hmmm, If Debbie Guy works better than Deborah Guy Skriloff so be it. WHAT!?! WHOA!!!! when did that happen!?!? When did my name cease to be a trigger for me?  There was nothing. No kick in the gut, no emotional attachment, nothin, zilch, nada.  i realized in that moment i understood who I was, what talents I had to offer to the world so far and the facade was less important than the work.

Now does that mean I’m going to start introducing myself as Debbie Guy tomorrow?  No I don’t think so.  I do happen to like my name as it is, but maybe I’ll let them call me Deb.

Fearlessly,

Deborah

P.S. Ironically enough, my 30th high school reunion is just around the corner and no matter what my engraved business cards say they are all going to call me ‘Debbie Guy’ anyway. And that’s okay with me. Finally.