I just read the latest entry on my good friend, Alisa’s BLOG titled ‘What’s in a Name’. It got me thinking about my own name, and stories that I’ve heard over and over and over again. I’m ok with the name Shelley. It could’ve been worse… let me tell you how much worse…
My Mom named me Shelley Sue. Her intent was that I be called just that — kinda like Mary Lou or Leigh Ann — you know, names that just go together. I couldn’t possibly tell you how many times she’s said, “If I would’ve known that people weren’t going to call you Shelley Sue, I would’ve written it altogether as Shelisu.” ::cringe::
So I’m not Michelle or Rachelle — I’m Shelley. I was almost Sheila, but for whatever reason, that fell through. My brother was absolutely devastated because I wasn’t named Olive Oil. (For that at least, thanks Mom!)
I knew my only child was a boy even when I was told he was girl. The pencil on a string lied, and the nurse in the doctor’s office didn’t know what she was talking about. He had the name Benjamin Scott even before I got pregnant. Benjamin was for my (now ex) husband’s uncle (they called him Joe but ummmmm – no), and his middle name, Scott, was chosen because of my favorite brother in the whole wide world. Had Benjamin been a girl, he would’ve been Morgan something or the other. I think he’s actually ok with his name — he’s never complained.
My brother goes by his middle name — he was named Dallas after my father — and I have no clue where his middle name, Scott, originated. I’m assuming he either wasn’t crazy about being a ‘Dallas’, or he just figured that name simply belonged to our Dad. He’s always gone by D. Scott.
After marriage and divorce, I dropped the Sue totally (gone! outta here!) and took my maiden name as my middle name instead. At the end of the day, I think the names Scott & Shelley are pretty ok. With parents named Dallas Maynard and Polly Marcella, it could’ve been worse!!