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Category: changing your name



Rename Your Family!

family names

Some of us think about renaming our babies.  We may also fantasize about renaming ourselves.  And pets — well, yesterday’s Tuffy could easily morph into tomorrow’s Toto.

So why not indulge our name-changing fantasies, if only here on Nameberry?  Here’s your chance to rename your entire family — you, your partner if you have one, your children, your parents and/or your siblings, even the goldfish if you’re so inclined.  Define who’s included in your family however you wish.

The rules: In the interest of sanity, the new names need to start with the same letter as each person’s old name.  And you have to change everyone’s names, even if you think they were perfect to begin with!

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What name would change your life?


If my name was Vesper, would I be dating James Bond?

It seems like a pretty fair bet that I would have a more glamourous life than I do now, one that involved, I don’t know, lots of evenings (Vesper means “evening’!) at nightclubs and zooming around European locales on Vespa motor scooters.

Or is that just an illusion?  Would I still be myself, whether my name was the straightforward Pam or the glamourous Vesper, the peppy Pippa or the sophisticated Sophia, would I still be the same person?

Do you think a name can have the power to change your life, and if so, what name do you think could change YOURS?  And how and why?

(Sorry, but Vesper is mine.)

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The following essay is re-published with the permission of its original author Robbie Blair. You can view the full essay here.

A name is not a small thing. I didn’t realize its full weight until I read Helen Keller‘s account of her genesis in the world of language and identity. In Keller‘s blind, deaf, pre-linguistic experience, there was only sensation. Keller tells how she was given a doll, and how her teacher attempted to tell her what doll meant. “I became impatient at her repeated attempts and, seizing the new doll, I dashed it upon the floor,” says Keller. It was later that same day that Keller discovered language in the experience famously captured in The Miracle Worker.

“Somehow the mystery of language was revealed to me,” recounts Keller. “I knew then that ‘w-a-t-e-r’ meant the wonderful cool something that was flowing over my hand. On entering the door I remembered the doll I had broken. I felt my way to the hearth and picked up the pieces. I tried vainly to put them together. Then my eyes filled with tears; for I realized what I had done, and for the first time I felt repentance and sorrow.”

It was only once the set of sensations embodied by “doll” had a name that Keller experienced guilt. To dash the doll to pieces wasn’t merely changing the experiences: It was destroying its very doll-ness. To understand that identity could be more than mere sensation was the beginning of an entirely new world for her. “When I learned the meaning of ‘I’ and ‘me’ and found that I was something, I began to think,” said Keller. “Then consciousness first existed for me.” It is this process of naming and defining that creates the world of the conscious mind.

For years I worked to consciously create an identity for myself as Rob D Young.  I created heavy self-perceptions, definitions, a brand of self. I established a reputation. I decided who “Rob D Young” is.

Then about six months ago I started seriously considering changing my name to Robert Blair in honor of my grandfather. Two years ago my grandfather started bleeding internally for no reason in particular. Not long thereafter he had what he dubbed “a bit of a problem with gravity.” I don’t know how people handle this process; I don’t know how to wait for the death of someone I love. There are so many ceremonies and processes and support systems for the passing of a loved one, but the gradual waning beforehand aches fiercely and we are given little else besides the ticking clock. We remind ourselves to remain grateful for whatever time he has left, and we try not to feel guilty for wanting him to stay around in a breaking body for even longer.

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Tell Us About Your Berry Alias!

Linda and I were talking about our beloved Berries the other day, naturally calling people by their Berry names since for the most part we don’t know their real names, when suddenly dawn broke.

Hey!, we thought.  Here we are, a name site, with lots of regular visitors who are fascinated by names and think and know a lot about the subject, and yet they’re known by names they’ve invented for themselves.  So where did those names come from?

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Quick! Pick a new name


When I was a kid, I wanted to be named Susie: cute, popular, contemporary — everything the sedate Pamela was not.

Then in college, the name I might have picked for myself was Daisy.  Daisy was the carefree flower child, with long blonde hair and a battered guitar, I would have liked to have been.

Later, in a Jane Austen-reading period, I might have renamed myself the patrician-yet-quirky Eliza.  And now?  Well, while I’m thinking about it, let’s talk about you.

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