I’m not even sure where to begin with what I want to write. Thoughts that have been going around my mind and are connected to this post.  Am I who I am regardless of what someone calls me?  I’m not talking about teasing, or calling a person ‘names’. I mean literally, someone’s name. We all have nicknames. I had a nickname at camp. It was completely different from my name. I was pretty used to it, I still look up if someone calls me that. It’s now my internet handle.  Some people shorten my name from full to nicknames.  As I’m sure you all can guess (based on the name in my blog — at least, for those who don’t know me) my first name is Christina.  I have several nicknames.
Growing up, my family called me Chrisa.  Many cousins still do. Now my family generally calls me Chris.  Most of my closest friends call me Chris. I like and prefer nicknames because it implies a certain closeness and connection. Though I still introduce myself as Christina — but I do like (and perhaps even prefer) if friends end up calling me Chris.  But what about other nicknames — ones that don’t naturally develop? I had one nickname — Tina — that was never used. Well, one friend in high school decided to be different and called me that. I told the Tina story to one of my running buddies and now, he too sometimes calls me that. At first it was funny, but now it’s ‘normal’. It’s unique and endearing (in my opinion), and even though it would never occur to me to introduce myself as Tina (Chris, yes, that does happen on occasion), I do like it.  I don’t ‘identify’ myself as a Tina in the same way that I do Chris, Chrisa or Christina.  Perhaps that’s because it’s a more unique nickname I’ve never had the time or a reason to develop that part of my identity.
How does one’s identity change or develop as one has a new name? When I used ‘Oasis’ for a summer camp nickname — it meant my identity was that of “camp staff”.  Chrisa to me has always meant ‘family’ (or yes, those who have known me my entire life) — that to the person using that nickname I am ‘family’ to them.  My immediate family uses Chris as do many, or most, of my close friends. It’s the most ‘usual’ nickname I get.
What about last names? When a woman marries, sometimes they choose to change their name. I wonder how their identity changes if they change their name or don’t when they get married. I would expect — and being single I’m just guessing (Married friend — do you want to comment?) — that when a woman starts using her married name it identifies her to herself (and others, I would imagine) as part of that family. Not that she’s no longer a part of her parent’s family but that there is that development of a new ‘immediate family’.
What about completely changing a name, by choice? I have one friend who has done that. I don’t think I can really comment on what experience was like — it’s her story to tell if she so chooses.  But to me, it would be defining in some way. She told me her original name and to me she is so much who her name is now that I don’t even fathom that she ‘is’ her original name.  What about a child’s name? One of my good friends has a son and she’s mentioned changing his name in a couple of ways. Whether or not she does, or is able to is a different question. If she wants to comment on her thoughts on that, here, is wholly up to her. How would it affect her son’s self-identity?  I think my opinion is biased.  I know her son’s still quite young, and part of his identity — relating to his name — will depend on whether or not she teaches him his full legal name, a shortened version, or whatnot.
If, to make a generic example, a child is legally named “Matthew James Brown-Smith” and the child is raised as “Matthew James Smith” or “Matthew Brown Smith” would it affect things at all once (or if) the guardian legally changes the child’s name to whatever he’s using? Probably not.  Would it affect things for the child’s identity if he is raised as “Matthew James Smith” and later on he finds out that his name is legally “Matthew James Brown-Smith”? I think, depending on the person or the situation, it could. Regardless, there are ways to handle the situation — whether or not the name is legally changed, communication will be needed, and that can go a long way to making it easier to handle.  What if that child was legally “Matthew James Brown-Smith” but was raised as “David Charles Roy”?
There’s another situation where a person’s name is often legally changed — adoption. Last name, and often a chid’s first and middle name. In this case, the affect a name change has on a child is probably secondary to the global effect that adoption has on a child (which is certainly not to say that it’s a bad effect, necessarily — I’m the last to say that it’s a bad thing).  And I know that each person’s experience is different.  I suppose this brings me to the crux of what I’m thinking of: How much is my identity linked to my name? I realize it’s an impossible question for those who know me to answer, but if I wasn’t called Christina what name can you see me being called?  I have specific reasons for wondering, and I wont go into why I’m asking this just yet, but I will in a later post. For now, I am curious — when you think of ‘who’ I am, what is my name? And, No, please don’t answer Christina. I’m curious if my identity reminds anyone of any other names.