For a while since starting this blog, I’ve flipped back and forth between using my first and middle name, and just using my middle name. The fact is, I find my first name common and not terribly pretty, and I love my middle name. But I’ve been known by my first name for so often that I don’t think I could bring myself to switch over in my daily life, short of picking up and moving somewhere far away where nobody knows me. And in this day and age, that would be difficult anyway.
My mother loved the name she gave me, her first daughter. I know she picked it out practically before I was born. She also loved the name Rebecca, from the old Daphne DuMaurier novel, but decided that the character namesake was not suitable. While I can’t disagree, I find Rebecca a much more lovely name. In an odd twist, I had a dear friend in elementary school named Rebecca who looked a great deal like me and we were often confused for one another. How confusing it would have been had we actually had the same name!
I am less certain of the origin of my middle name, Elizabeth, the name I’ve chosen to use for this blog. I know I had a great grandmother named Elizabeth. Rather, her name was Erzsebet, but it was Americanized when she emigrated to this country. So it’s possible that my middle name is also a link to my past, something that I find appealing.
As a lover of British history, I have to say the name Elizabeth appeals to me for its repeated use among the monarchy. It is a lovely and traditional name that spans eons, rather than a name that ended up being very trendy for women of my age. So for now, I choose to present myself by my preferred name, one given to me in fairness, but not one by which I could bring myself to be known in the everyday world. This blog is the one place where I can use it with wild abandon.
So please, call me Elizabeth.