now i know my ABCs

What's in a name?

For me at least it's my identity. So speaking my name is only half the deal. You also have to spell it right or it's just not me. My future sister-in-law's name is Beckii and spells her name that way because she likes the sound of Becky but hates the spelling. I guess that's what happens when you're a graphic designer and the y makes an ugly ugly ugly tangent with the k. So she goes by Beckii instead. I'm pretty sure legally she's still Rebecca but hey. She's Beckii to me.

Most people call me by my full name and after knowing me for just a little while they understand that it's spelled MariAnne and not Mary Ann or Maryanne or Marian or Mari Anne. Even Marianne is pushing it. They also know that just because there's a capital A doesn't mean that MariAnne is not my full first name. Thus, they don't call me Mari because they understand that Mari is not my name. I can't exactly pinpoint why I don't like it that people call me by just the first half of my name, but I think it's a combination of the idea that it's with an i and not a y, and that only people who know me very very well have ever called me Mari. To me, Mary seems like an old-fashioned name, or the name of Jesus' mother. So, Mary with a y and not an i is not me. Also, growing up only my family called me Mari, and then because they only knew me through my family, the longest members of my church family also call me Mari. Consequentially, a few others have been familiar with me through such people and call me Mari as well, but they're definitely exceptions. Somehow in my brain it's okay with me if you call me Mari while consciously thinking of the i that is present. And if you have known me since I was in diapers or know my deepest loves and fears. But if you call me Mari and haven't filled either of these criterion, then you are making the biggest insult to me. I take more offense to the truncation of my proper name than I do from hearing someone tell me "F*** you." Which, if you know me, is an incredible offense. Please don't call me Mari unless you belonged to Knollbrook Christian Reformed Church from 1990 to 2006, are in my extended family, are named Heather, Geron, Karla, Keri, or a young Ali, or I've signed "Mari" at the end of a personal note to you thus have given you permission to call me by such an intimate name. And please, certainly never ever call me Mary.

The other day an admissions lady called my room and asked if my roommate Kristina would take a campus visitor. Kristina wasn't around but I said we'd do it and then the lady took my name and put it on the visit documents as she remembered it instead of using Kristina. She wrote: Mary. MY NAME IS NOT MARY, dudes. It simply is not. I'm sure when the nice girl who will be staying with me gets her letter and reads that her host is Mary Nikkel she won't think twice when she meets me and finds out I'm really MariAnne. I'm sure the admissions counselor who gives her a tour will see Mary Nikkel and recognize it as my name, since she was my admissions counselor as well. I'm sure my roommate, bless her wonderful kind heart, was only confused when I came in the room complaining about the little switcheroo and proclaimed, "I'm MariAnne, not Mary! I DID NOT GIVE BIRTH TO JESUS!"

Alas, life goes on. I've gotten less touchy about it over the years, and if people avoid the capital A I don't make a fuss. Especially when my boyfriend's family didn't know better. I'm just glad they love me enough to notice the i. It won't kill me if you spell or speak my name wrong, but I would appreciate the respect of understanding that my identity is something that I hold close. Heather, after seeing the spelling of Beckii's name, said that I should just start spelling my name <>< and trying to convince people that it still sounds like MariAnne. I might. It'd be funny. But the damage control afterward would be just too much. So, MariAnne it is. Take it or leave it, it's my identity.